"Why? Knowing that we continue in some way is supposed to be comforting."
"The veil means separation of the dead from the living. I now understand why Navuh jumped after Areana. I thought that he expected to survive because he was an arrogant bastard who thought he could do what no one else could, but he didn't think that. He couldn't live without her, and he didn't care about surviving. He just wanted to be with her even if it was beyond the veil."
Tula also understood. She understood what Esag had said without actually saying it, and it touched places deep in her heart.
She nestled into his warmth, pressing her face against his chest. His heart beat faster now, a subtle betrayal of the anxiety her words had caused him.
"It was just a peek," she said. "I came back, and I'm not going anywhere."
He let out a breath. "I'm going to hold you to that." His hands resumed their gentle exploration of her back, her hip, the curve of her waist.
Tula let herself drift, savoring the sensation of being held, of being wanted, of being seen. "Nothing I've ever experienced compares to tonight, and I'm not talking about the orgasms, although those were spectacular. There are just not enough words to describe those. It's the connection between us. It's like a solid cable pulled taut, linking us together. With Tony, it waslike a thread, and with those who came before him, it was even less. There was no connection at all."
"There's more connecting you to Tony than a thread," he said quietly. His hand drifted to her belly, palm pressing gently against the swell. "You're connected through the child you created together. That's not a flimsy thread. That's a bond that will last forever or for as long as Tony lives."
His words should have felt like a rebuke, but they didn't. They felt like acceptance. Like understanding.
"Are you jealous?" she asked.
"Of course, I am." His hand remained on her belly, warm and steady. "He'll always have a piece of you that belongs to him." He shifted, tilting her chin up so she was forced to meet his eyes. "I know I will love your child wholeheartedly, because I love you. This baby is part of you, which means he's already part of me. I intend to be there when he takes his first steps and says his first words. I can already imagine myself teaching him to carve and telling him stories about the old world."
Tula's throat constricted, but at the same time, her heart swelled with emotion. The declaration was so open, so vulnerable, so utterly sincere that she didn't know how to respond.
Esag had said that he loved her, and she'd felt the truth of it in the connection between them, that taut cable humming with emotion.
He loved her.
And she didn't know what to say back.
"I—" She stopped, frustrated with herself. Why was this so hard? Why were those three little words so hard to say?
She'd never spoken them to any of her partners because she'd never been in love. She'd loved her parents and her sister, and she loved Areana, and she had strong feelings for Esag, but love?
She wasn't there yet.
"It's okay," Esag said softly. "You don't have to say it back." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I'm a patient male. I'll wait until you're ready."
She stared at him. "Can you read my mind? How did you know what I was thinking?"
A small smile curved his lips. "I know you, Tula. Better than you realize."
"We've only just met, Esag. You knew me superficially as a girl five thousand years ago, so that doesn't count. We are still in the stage of learning about each other."
He smiled. "You forget the visions and the dreams. The connection we shared was intimate. I saw pieces of you that you don't let anyone else see. Your fears. Your hopes. The walls you've built to protect yourself." His expression softened. "At some point, you will feel safe enough to allow your heart to open to love."
She wanted to deny it. Wanted to snap back with something sharp and deflecting, the way she always did when someone got too close. But the words wouldn't come because he was right.
"I don't know if I'll ever be able to do this. I've lived like this for thousands of years. My brain is hardwired a certain way."
He chuckled. "It's funny to hear you talking in computer speak when you are still struggling to figure out how to navigate your phone."
She lifted her head and glared at him. "I also can't fly an airplane, but I know how it works. I've read about aerodynamics."
Smiling, he cupped her cheek. "I didn't mean it as an insult. I'm sorry if it sounded like that. What I should have said instead was that we are not computers, and our brains are much more malleable." He kissed her forehead, soft and lingering. "We'll figure it out. There's no rush. We have eternity, remember?"
Eternity.
For the first time in forever, that sounded like a promise rather than a curse. The word had always felt like a prison sentence before. An endless stretch of years to be endured and survived. But lying here in Esag's arms, with his heart beating beneath her ear and his warmth seeping into her bones, she could actually look forward to spending eternity like this.
