I held her close, kissing her violently, wanting to drink her soul and take her with me. “Without you, what am I? Who am I?” My teeth nipped at her lip. “Almost every memory I have, you’re in. Almost every recollection, you’re there. And I know I’m the same for you. Our lives are so entwined, there is no before. No time where we were separate. Therefore, there can be no ending. Right?”
I kissed her again and again. “We’re tied together for life a-and we’ll just have to hold onto that. This isn’t the end. It can’t be. It just can’t.”
Della nodded, kissing me as furiously as I kissed her. “I’m tied to you just as surely as you’re tied to me, Ren Wild. We’ll never lose each other. Ever.”
Our breathing was haggard as our foreheads pressed together, and Della climbed back onto my lap.
Somehow, I was hard even though I was distraught, and she slid me inside her, connecting us even while we said our goodbyes.
As we rocked together, I allowed myself to be spiteful. To speak the truth. To ease some of the burden I’d been carrying. “You’ll have a lifetime without me. I’m fucking heartbroken that it won’t be us anymore.”
Her sobs came hard. “Me too.”
“I’m jealous of your future, Little Ribbon.”
“Don’t be. I will always belong to you.”
“I’m livid at my inability to stop this. I want to bargain with the devil for one more year. I’d sell my soul for just one more day with you.”
“I’d sell mine, too.”
We grinded against each other, roughly, meanly. My hands guided her hips, clamping her down harder, forcing her to take all of me.
Talking ceased as we fought each other and our grief.
My coughing mixed with our groans, and hands slapped over our mouths to stay silent and not wake Jacob.
Before, we’d made love.
Now, we fucked.
And it was messy, wet, and nasty.
It was our version of the war inside our hearts, the physical need to hurt each other when none of this was our fault.
Finally, when my thrusts went deep and Della came around me, and my body released the sick cocktail of rage and relief, we clung to each other, sweaty and sad, our tempers no longer as hot.
My lungs were in agony.
My heart no longer rhythmical but failing hour by hour.
Kissing her cheek, I breathed, “I need you to move on, Della. I want you to be happy. I need you to live even when I’m no longer here.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. Live for Jacob. Live for me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” Hugging her close, I promised, “You can. Because this isn’t the end. We will never end because that isn’t what true love is. True love is constant. It has no beginning, middle, or end. Life might end, but love…that’s immortal.”
“I love you so much, Ren.”
“I know.”
“I’ll always be yours.”
I nodded, accepting her vow even when I shouldn’t. “I’ll wait for you, Della. I’ll watch you and Jacob…somehow.”
“Promise me you’ll always be near.”
“I promise.”
She kissed me sweet, a single word on her breath. “Good.”
And I knew what I needed to say in return.
A phrase that meant so much.
Four little letters that held such history and hope.
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I touched my lips to hers.
And all I whispered was, “Fine.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
DELLA
* * * * * *
2032
REN DIED ONE week after Jacob turned ten.
It was as if he’d been holding on until that special age.
Clinging to life to see his son turn the same age he’d been when he’d saved me.
The symbolism in that tore out my heart, injecting exquisite sorrow that I’d never overcome.
I’d been rescued from a life of murder and hell by a ten-year-old boy who’d fallen in love with me. And I’d been left in the hands of another ten-year-old boy who was just as destroyed as I was now that his father was gone.
The fifth and final incident.
The one I’d hoped so badly wouldn’t come true.
My tears hadn’t stopped since I’d woken in the night, six days ago, and knew.
I knew.
I couldn’t explain it.
After we’d returned from Jacob’s birthday in the forest, neither of us mentioned our goodbyes in the tented dark. We continued as normal, with Ren slowly fading, and his refusals about going to the hospital coming often.
Rick Mackenzie had taken to visiting us, instead of Ren going to him, and the last house call…we’d all known would be the final one.
He’d wanted Ren to be admitted. To be put on Fentanyl and a steady dose of whatever drugs could extend his final moments.
But Ren refused.
His life belonged to the land and sky, and his death wouldn’t be spent in a building with concrete and glass.
I honoured that choice even if I hated watching him dim before me. How his body slowly gave up, piece by piece. How his energy levels diminished, breath by breath.
To start with, I trawled the internet for a last-minute miracle. I studied the use of goji berries and apricot kernels and every supposed super food out there.
But in the end, Ren stole my phone.
He turned off the internet, returning us to a world where it was just us and no one else, and we lived in our memories because that was all that was left.
The Wilsons visited often, all of us tasting what lingered in the air.
Liam and Chip and John shared a drink with Ren while they watched some nonsense on TV. Cassie and Nina curled up against him, saying their own goodbyes. And Jacob and me…we were his constant shadow. Part of him. Part of us. So damn aware that he’d be gone soon, and the house would be so empty without him.
And then six days ago, that terrible night arrived.
Ren coughed, but no more than often.
He had a fever, but not hotter than before.
We cleaned our teeth together, read a bit before turning out the light, and kissed each other goodnight like we did every evening.
A simple, domestic night.
The epitome of intimacy and marriage.
I lay beside him, listening to that god-awful wheeze—the wheeze that I hated for stealing what was mine.
And I kissed him again. And again. Never fully satisfied.
Finally, he drifted off with our hands touching and bodies moulded into one.
I had dreams about boys and backpacks and kisses.
Midnight ticked onward, creeping us into a new tomorrow.
But somewhere between two and three, while the moon seduced the stars, I woke up.
Something prickled my awareness.
Something triggered the trip line of my instincts.
I sat up in bed and looked around.
There was something there.
Something unseen.
My breath turned shaky as something cool rippled over my skin.
And I knew.
Just knew.
Tears flowed before I even turned to Ren.
He lay on his back instead of propped up, but he wasn’t coughing.
He looked more at peace than he had in years—no pain, no torment, no struggle.
Lying down, I pressed against his side, looped my arm around his waist, and hooked my leg over his.
He smiled in his sleep, his nose nuzzling my hair.
I squeezed him hard. So hard.
And then, the rattle and wheeze that had become so familiar hitched and halted.
And tears streamed unbidden down my face.
There was no time to call for help. No seconds to waste screaming for him to wake up or begging him to fight for just one more day.
He’d protected me.
Provided for me.
And in that darkness between the hours of two and three, the boy who would forever hold my heart took his last breath.
His body was still beside me…but his spirit…
It’d gone.
And I’d felt him.
I’d woken to his kiss; I’d shivered in his goodbye.
Swallowing silent sobs, I laid a hand on his chest, begging for a heartbeat.
His skin was still warm.
But there was no heartbeat.
For a second, I was repulsed.
The animalistic part of me blaring with warning to stay away from the dead.
But this was Ren.
This was the other piece of my soul.
I was not afraid of him.
And so, I hugged my husband, telling him he was not alone.
And even though it ripped my heart apart, I told him to go and be happy.
To be free.
For the first time in my entire life, I was no longer part of a pair.
He’d gone to a place I could not go.
And as dawn crested and his skin grew steadily colder, life intruded on our bedroom tomb.
Jacob.
He’d be awake soon.
He couldn’t see.
And so, I’d done what any mother would do.
I left my dead soulmate and climbed out of bed to lock the door. I picked up the phone and ordered an ambulance. I called Cassie and John and told them.
I dressed in a fugue and went to my son’s bedroom to hold him, tell him, break him.
And we cried together.
God, we cried so much.
We cried when Ren was taken away.
We cried when he didn’t come back.
We cried when two days passed, then three and four and five.
Without Cassie and John, my son and I would’ve starved that week.
It was nothing but a blur of black, perpetual despair.
Ren’s body was cremated as per his wishes, the funeral already arranged, his Will and Testament activated seamlessly as everything was choreographed from the grave.
I didn’t remember sleeping or eating or even living…just existing…just surviving.
I’d died with Ren, but on the outside, I still played my part.
I consoled our—my—son.
I held him close as he sobbed.
I whispered stories when he couldn’t sleep.
I did my best to do what Ren would have done and that was to protect him from the pain.
But now…I couldn’t protect him, because today, it was the last time we’d hold Ren in our arms.
The silver urn was heavy and gleamed in the sun.
The trees around us swaying and sad.
The funeral had been announced in the local paper, and I’d expected a quiet affair of the Wilsons and the doctor Ren had grown close to over the years.
I wasn’t prepared for the entire town to attend.
Deep in the heart of the forest with no strict address or location, teachers and parents, friends and policemen had all gathered to say farewell.
There were no chairs or service.
No priest or hymns.
Just me holding Ren’s ashes.
Standing at the altar of his church.
I didn’t think I could speak.
I knew I couldn’t do Ren justice, but as Jacob came to stand beside me, a breeze whisked through the trees, kicking up leaves in a wind-devil.
And once again that prickle, that knowledge overwhelmed me, and the tears that were in constant supply erupted.
I cried in front of strangers.
I sobbed in front of family.
And when I’d finished hugging Ren for the last time, I stood taller, braver, older, and opened the single printed page from the manuscript I’d been writing on and off for years. When Ren had bought me a new laptop, and I’d tasted the first signs of him leaving me, I’d turned to the salvation of the keys.
I’d done my best to write all the happy moments and try to forget the sad.
I focused on our fairy-tale, never knowing the words I’d chosen for my prologue would be part of the eulogy at Ren’s goodbye.
He was forty-two and gone.
A life cut far too short.
Jacob nudged me, holding out his arms for his father. “I’ll hold him, Mom. While you—” Tears strangled his boyish voice, but beneath the childhood pitch lurked the rasp of a man.
He’d aged overnight, and I finally understood why it was so important to Ren to never treat him as a kid. To forever nurture that wisdom that was already ingrained in his soul.
Ren needed Jacob to accept his place before he was no longer there to guide him, giving him knives and truths and chores normally withheld for a more mature age.
And he’d known he could handle it.
Because he’d handled it himself.
My vision blurred with yet more tears as I ducked to Jacob’s height and held out my arms. Without a word, I transferred my loved one into his son’s arms and brushed the skirts of my simple black dress.
Today, I wore no ribbon.
No usual flair of blue.
Today, that ribbon fluttered around the lid of the silver urn, hugging Ren one last time.
Jacob squeezed the urn, pressing his cheek to the coolness, breaking my heart all over again. “I love you, Dad. No matter that you’re just ash now.”
A sob grabbled with my voice as I forced myself to turn from the touching, breaking moment and face the tear-streaked members of our town.
John cried silently. Cassie hugged Nina while Chip hugged her. Liam hugged his wife and son while Adam and his family hovered close by. Behind them, the town stood poised and waiting for whatever words I could deliver that might stop the pain.
But I didn’t have that power. No one did.
And even if such a magic existed, I wouldn’t want it.
I wouldn’t want my smarting, bleeding grief to be erased because that was the price of love, and I’d loved dearly.
Reading from my printed page, even though the words were typed on my heart, I took lines from the prologue and shared them, all while keeping others just for me.
“First, I want to say thank you. Thank you for falling in love with Ren just as much as me. Thank you for understanding that love spans decades, infects souls, and turns you immortal because, when you love that deeply, nothing can ever die.”
I looked up, meeting the eyes of John.
He nodded, biting his trembling lip, his mind awash with Patricia and Ren.
I spoke for me and for everyone with lost loved ones.
I hoped they’d see what Ren and I had seen…that love truly was mystical and miraculous.
My voice threaded tears with truth.
“Love transcends time, space, distance, universes.
“Love can’t be confined to pages or photos or memories—it’s forever alive and wild and free. Romance comes and goes, lust flickers and smoulders, trials appear and test, life gets in the way and educates, pain can derail happiness, joy can delete sadness, togetherness is more than just a fairy-tale…it’s a choice.
“A choice to love and cherish and honour and trust and adore.
“A choice to choose love, all the while knowing it has the power to break you.
“A choice, dear friends, to give someone your entire heart.
“But in the end, love is what life is about.
“And love is the purpose of everything.”
John broke from the ranks, striding in leaf-crunching boots to bear hug me. Cassie joined him, her subtle perfume clouding around us.
“We’re here. You and Jakey are not alone.” John let me go, blowing his nose on a handkerchief.
“I love you, Della.” Cassie kissed my cheek and squeezed my arm before guiding her father back to their places.
With their kind support, I stood braver in the face of heartbreak and tucked my page away.
I smiled at the
crowd, wobbly and watery. “Ren died knowing how loved he was. And we’re still here, knowing he’ll always love us in return. Some might say our romance is over. That his death ruins our story. And I’d agree, but only because romance can be killed, but love…it can’t. It lives on, and I’m patient enough to wait for our happily ever after.”
Townsfolk nodded, some sharing looks, others glassy-eyed with their own memories.
But I’d said what I needed to.
I’d done what was expected for a grieving widow to honour her dead lover.
Now, we had something else much more important to do.
Turning to Jacob, I held out my hand. “Ready?”
He hugged the silver urn tighter. “No.”
I kissed his soft hair. “He’ll always love you, Jacob.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“But we’re not.”
“I don’t want to let him go.”
Bending closer, I whispered, “We’re not letting him go. We’re setting him free. The wind will guide him to visit us; the forest will keep him safe. He’ll be all around us, Wild One.”
His face shone with tears. “But who will I talk to?” He stroked the urn. “At least he’s still here.”
A tear rolled down my cheek. “He’s not in there, Jacob. His spirit is already listening. He hears you when you talk to him, even without his ashes.”
“You sure?” He hiccupped. “Promise?”
I opened my arms.
Jacob launched into them, wedging the urn between us. “I promise. He’s watching us right now, and he’d want us to be brave, okay?”
Pulling back, he wiped his cheeks with his black-suited forearm. “Okay. I’ll be brave. For him.”
Standing, I didn’t look back at the crowd, merely waited for my son to take my hand.
When he did, we moved farther away, deeper into the green-shrouded forest.
Once we found a perfect sun-lit spot, we stopped.
“Ready?”
“’kay.”
Together, with shaking hands and slippery grip, we unscrewed the lid.
Another flute of a breeze found its way through the boughs and leaves to lick around us.
My skin prickled. My heart answered. I felt him near.
I love you, Ren.
As we started to tip, I whispered, “Don’t say farewell, Wild One. Don’t say the words goodbye because it isn’t. If you must say something, say I love you. Because he’ll hear it and know he’s not forgotten.”
Ren and Della: Boxed Set (Ribbon Duet Book 3) Page 89
