Death of a Nightingale

CHAPTER 27: NO RETURN

I close the French doors on the little window and blink, taking a beat. So many emotions to sort through that I don't know where to begin. So I decide to postpone sorting altogether and do something useful. Grace is following an immortal creature. Something she doesn't know nor fully understand. As I hop into my pants, one clumsy leg at a time, fear strikes me and strikes deep. What if that tall man isn't like her? What if he's dangerous?

But I push the idea aside. Grace is immortal. We've established that most thoroughly against my better judgement. Twice.

She'll be fine. However, I'm not so sure I can say the same about myself. I love her. And even though she might not be able to make me immortal herself, she's not the only death-impaired being I know. I know another. Sparkly and full of electric fire. I wonder just how far Luke's research has progressed and if he's found anything useful. Well, checking his notes for myself seems like a much better use of my time than sulking around my room, waiting for Grace to return, or not to return at all...

The thought sends an ice-cold shiver down my spine. I shake it off and put on a sweater and a beanie. It's cold outside. Another glance at the window confirms that. Small ice crystals build in formation on the glass. But I pay them no heed. I'm full of adrenaline and won't feel the cold on my skin. Nevertheless, I put on a pair of thick socks and good hiking shoes, this night promises more adventures.

When I finally close the door to my room, something feels strange... as if I'm leaving a part of my old life behind. Having made a final decision. A step towards the unknown, right off a cliff. I hesitate, my hand still on the door handle. The warmth of the house surrounds me with love. I felt love here. My family's love. My father died here and my mother continued living just for me. Even with only half her smile left.

As much as I respect and adore her for it, I'm afraid of that fate. I don't want to inherit her half-smile and a broken heart. I have to follow mine. I have to find a solution and be with Grace. Something else flares up within me. Hope.

But the door across from me opens as well and my mom stumbles out half asleep towards me. Familiar eyes search my own and I gulp under the scrutiny.

"You're up late, or awake very, very early, darling." She wipes her face with one hand, looking a little more worn than usual. My mother is a beautiful woman, but that's never the quality people first notice about her. The thought makes me smile.

"I'm going to the aquarium. I have to talk to Luke." It's not a lie. I know I can't lead that wonderful man on when I know what my heart desires more than anything. But hearing my voice say it out loud, feels so different. A small sliver of panic shoots through my chest.

She looks me over again, sadness building up in her face as if she already knows. My wise, wonderful mother is so incredibly intuitive. She nods.

"Be gentle." Her voice remains steady, even though her face betrays its intent. Gentle. What a word.

Is that what I should be? Or would it be much kinder to rip off the Band-Aid? The different options and possible outcomes race through my head, each terrible and heartbreaking in their own way. Luke deserves none of them, nor any of what I already did to him last night. I feel rotten. Through and through. Guilty and dirty and altogether awful. My mother reads that on my face too and crosses the distance between us. Her arms wrap around me before I can stop her and she kisses my cheek.

"He...we only ever wanted you to be happy. Remember that."

Her breath warms my ear as she says it and the words ring true. She means my father of course.

The man I still strive to be so perfect for even though he'll never know. I wonder what he would think of my adventure, of Grace. Would he welcome this? Be worried? Be as petrified and excited as I am? He would want me to be happy. He loved Luke, sure, but happiness is messy. It can take turns and lead you to a completely different destination than you originally set out for. I remember Dad telling me to take happy moments wherever I could find them, cherish and celebrate them, laugh often and hard. Some of the guilt melts away and I feel better. Even now, as an adult, my mom has this wonderful ability to calm me down with a few, sincere words of love.