The Fallen

Part Three

The land was making money and I had been able to modify the derrick so that once the cable drill hit oil, the well could be quickly capped, saving possibly thousands of barrels of oil. Now I had proof that it worked, I intended to sell the patent. ​

Once we had money coming in I had plans to start my own refinery too, and lots of ideas on how to streamline that process and make separating the components quicker, cheaper, and cleaner.

Everything in our lives was going well, until I kissed her.

Why? We had a fantastic life together, we got on well, we had fun, we were even affectionate with each other, why did I have to cross that line and make our relationship physical?

'​Because you love her​' a little voice in the back of my mind told me. I knew it to be true but I didn't want it to be. Love was dangerous.

Besides, Angel deserved someone much better than I.

'​Why don't you divorce her?​' that little voice asked. '​If you don't want her, let her find someone who does​.'

Because I care too much to give her up, and I'm selfish.

And anyway, she had given up her immortality to give me a second chance, didn't I owe it to her to give her the best life possible?

'​She doesn't care for money, she became human to experience humanity. If you really wanted what was best for her, you'd give her that feather so she could remember who she was, and you'd admit your feelings for her.'

That little voice was damned annoying, mostly because it was usually right.

I began to wonder what might happen if I did confess my feelings and tried to make our relationship physical. And if I gave her the feather back so she could remember what she had given up, would she still think she had done the right thing?

Although they were clean, I found myself lathering up my hands once more, feeling the callouses on my fingers and palms from erecting the derrick and operating the drill. My hands were pretty scarred now, and no stranger to hard work.

I couldn't help but wonder what Carter Cushing would make of me now.

That thought, and remembering that even although it wasn't by my hand, I was directly responsible for his death, was sobering enough to put paid to thoughts of confessing my feelings.

***

That evening the six of us ate, drank and were merry as we shared a steak stew that Nora had made. My mood was subdued but I made an effort to go along with the celebrations. I didn't want to face any awkward questions.

After the hands and Nora retired to bed, I took my survey plans out and laid them on the cleared kitchen table, although I already knew where I would try drilling next.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked as she sat opposite me.

"Nothing, I just... want to stay ahead of the game."

"You can take one night off."

"No, I can't."

"Thomas," she reached over and placed her hand over one of mine. "Talk to me."

I kept my gaze lowered and didn't reply.

"I thought there was something between us earlier," she continued. "I thought that perhaps you had feelings for me."

"I do, I... care about you."

"I thought it was more than that." She withdrew her hand. "You're so protective of me when we're in town, so kind, always buying a book for me, or picking a flower for me on your way back from the derrick. You respect me and allow me to help you with things that Nora says most men would hate. I... I'm sorry if I misread you, I thought you liked me."