Page 97 of Living with Death

Rain.

He smiles at me, and I smile in return. “Still haven’t finished that bucket list,” I say.

“Perhaps we should go in the back, so the neighbors don’t think we’ve lost our minds.” He winks.

“After you,” I reply, stepping down from the ladder, but as soon as I do, he grabs me and runs through the house. We’re soaked in minutes, the freezing rain hammering down on us. Azrael kisses me, and I think to myself,This is living.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Fifty years later

The old house is just as I left it, but with different furniture. I walk through the kitchen, down the long hall, running my hand over the wallpaper I hung fifty years ago. It’s faded and outdated now. I walk into the living room and lean against the doorframe.

She sits in a comfortable chair, watching as the fire burns. I cross my arms, thinking of what to say to her. She was my only friend. I recall the laughs we shared and the moment at the grocery store with the Ouija board. God, what a night that was. We shared many nights after. We went dancing and road-tripping, and I was her maid of honor when she married John, her landlord.

It turns out, he was in love with her and her him. They had two children together. She lost him three years ago. I stood in the shadows at the funeral, wishing I could be by her side.

The day I had to tell everyone goodbye was heartbreaking for me. But they were getting older, and I was not. I made up a story, telling them that Jack had gotten a good job in France. So far away that they wouldn’t have the chance to visit. It took a while for the phone calls to stop. But eventually, they did, and I threw my phone away. I was never on social media, so that wasn’t an issue. Robbie’s wife lived ten more years before cancer took her. But she got to see her children grow.

Patty never found another husband but seemed content with her life. She passed over six years ago. Cassie got the help she needed and eventually became a counselor to help people with drug problems. I checked in with her a few years back. She’d aged, but she seemed happy. She walked out to her car, holding a little girl's hand. I imagined it was her granddaughter.

Leigh and Jason were married and had more children. They’re living somewhere up north. Neal finally won the lottery. He hit it big and bought a lake house. He spent his days fishing and watching his grandkids grow. But he passed away in his early seventies.

Mother lived a long time. A heart attack took her when she turned eighty-five. She was the only one I could still talk to and visit. We grew close. It’s hard to forgive sometimes, but not forgiving is heavier. She left me all her wealth, and I regularly sent money to my friends from the store. Anonymously, of course.

I gave Sam my home.

“You going to come in or keep standing there looking?”

I smile, my eyes already getting watery. I sniff and walk into the living room, standing before her.

“Wow,” she breathes. “You’ve got to give me your beauty ritual.”

I laugh.

She shakes her head, her eyes sparkling. “I knew it,” she whispers. “I knew something wild was going on with you. I thought maybe you just got good genes. And you did ’cause your mom was beautiful, but you never aged. And then you started distancing yourself. You quit the store and would be gone for long periods.

“But what got me was when you called me that last day we spoke. You still looked thirty-three, and we were forty-five. You had no sign of aging. And Jack,” she says. “He never changed a bit.”

For appearances, Azrael and I were married in front of my friends and Mom. But truthfully, we were married when we put those rings on.

He continues his duties as the Angel of Death, and I have a degree in design. I also received one in therapy, so I can help those who have lost people they love.

I own my practice at our manor, and I don’t have any help, so no one knows I don’t age.

I keep away from going to one town too often. It’s lonely at times, but I don’t have any regrets.

I love my life with Azrael and have a library filled with books. Michael allowed him to walk among the mortals until we said goodbye to my friends. But now he must stay in the In-Between unless he is at our home. Morgan visits me often, and I enjoy her company very much.

“Are you going to tell me your secret? Or am I to still guess?”

“I’m immortal.”

“Immortal?” she asks. “There’s such a thing?”

“Yes.”

I sit on her footstool.

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