I thought sitting in this chapel would be poetic in a way. Seemed like a great way to clear my mind and get deep.
But as I sit here and think about where I want to go from here, the same words keep playing in my mind over and over again. You know when you find a song annoying, but its jingle is remotely catchy, and your mind latches on to it for no reason at all? Then, before you know it, you’ve heard that song in your mind a thousand times and can casually sing it backward against your will.
This phrase, repeating in my mind, reminds me of that horrid sensation.
You’ll always be stuck, even in death.
It may not make much sense, but in my mind, the only way to get unstuck—I’m sure there’s a better word for that, but that’s irrelevant—is to run. I’ve been running for as long as I can remember.
It’s easier to run.
Should I stay down here indefinitely and run forever? The Archangels have much more important matters to tend to than one rogue angel.
Staying down here may make Cleo’s life easier. She deserves better than babysitting someone like me. A thousand times better.
I doubt she’d really get reprimanded for this anyway—Nial seemed fucking obsessed with her if you ask me. My jaw tightens while thinking about him and the way he interacted with her during my trial.
Not hearing that cute laugh of hers again would kill me, though. I’d miss her feathered wings and brown eyes and little scowl, too.
Truthfully, I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least correctly say goodbye to her before running, either.
Damnit. What am I going to do? My feelings for her are growing stronger by the minute, being stuck in the Middle Realm isliterally driving me insane, and I really miss my life. I miss it a hell of a lot. All three of these things are problematic.
I lean forward and rub my forehead, drawing a deep breath and resisting the urge to scream.
Movie characters make chapels look magical. They walk in troubled, walk out clear-minded. I, on the other hand, am feeling even more conflicted. This is probably what I deserve for believing in fiction.
Eventually, I leave, hoping I’ll find clarity sooner rather than later.
At the very least, spending time in such a cool building was nice.
I walk out of the cathedral and begin my speed walking regimen again, fitting right in with the locals. Not that anyone can see me.
Well, okay, I guess that’s not entirely true. Animals can see me. In fact, they often gravitate toward me. If I form a connection with an animal, we can speak through our minds to each other. Truman and I had a connection like that. He’s a sassy little guy, but damn, he’s the best cat ever.
With the number of birds and squirrels who flock to my side in this city, I’m practically a modern-day Snow White at this point.
I put my hands in my pockets and continue walking, sights set on the antique shop, when I notice a sign for a bookshop across the block. I’ve never been much of a reader, but that doesn’t occur to me as I change my course and approach it.
No, instead, I choose to stop there because it reminds me of my angel.
As I get closer, I notice the quaint shop has several books on display. From afar, I can’t make out the finer details, but I can clearly see a woman with her backside facing me, currentlyperched over to get a closer look at the books from the sidewalk. Dressed in knee-high black leather boots, black tights, a navy plaid skirt, and a light gray sweater, I feel drawn to her for reasons I can’t understand. Crossing the street, I catch an even better look at her and notice she has short black hair that barely runs past her shoulders.
I rub my eyes and determine my mind must be playing tricks on me because she looks a hell of a lot like the angel I can't get off my mind.
But she hasn’t spent time down here in the land below for leisure since dying, so it can't be her. In fact, I tried to get her to join me recently, and she utterly refused. She said she had no desire to ever visit this realm for fun. So, this simply can’t be my angel.
I finally reach her side, and before I can even get a good look at her, she turns and pierces me with her brown eyes, saying, “I finally found you.”
Twenty-One
Cleo
“Excuse me?” Kai gawks and gapes while squinting at me. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“Oh, stop.” I roll my eyes and scoff. “You’re joking.”
He takes a step back and shakes his head slowly, actual confusion lacing his features.
