From the other side of the low coffee table, Despina's sympathetic hum provided a counterpoint to her ragged inhalation, as she attempted to get a hold of herself.Get it under control!
"Lurielle? Khash isn't sick, is he? Is there something that you need to—"
"No," she interrupted quickly. "No, it’s nothing like that. I-I don't mean right now. I just mean . . . someday."
Even though the sphinx gave no outward sign of laughter, Lurielle decided Despina was trying mightily to hold in a snort of laughter at her patient's ridiculousness.Because youarebeing ridiculous. You need to get a grip and start taking melatonin so you can sleep.Instead, the therapist said something that brought her up short.
"Well, you can look at it this way. Marriages tend to end in two different ways. Death or divorce. They both have a tendency to be extremely painful. Sometimes they’re a relief, even if your heart is heavy. But it’s everything that comes before that influences our path to one destination or the other that makes the difference, don't you think?"
She forced herself to breathe, capturing her lip between her teeth as she did so, digesting the sphinx's words.
"I'm not going to patronize you by reminding you that we are all going to die—"
"That's not it," she blurted again, once more cutting off Despina's words. "I mean — yes, of course. We're all going to die, Iknowthat. That-that's not what I mean. That's not what . . . I've barely slept for the past month. It's not some intangible concept of death that has me up at night.I'mgoing to live a full common lifetime and then some without him. That's . . . that's what I'm having trouble with. He's going to die, and I'm still going to be here for another hundred years, maybe more. Half my life without him. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that."
The tears began to fall again. This wasn't as simple as confronting the universal reality that someday she and everyone else she knew would be gone and forgotten. It was specifically that he would be gone and she would live on —thatwas the terrible future for which she had absolutely no point of reference or anyone in whom she could confide.
The consequence of an upbringing like hers meant Lurielle didn't know any Elvish women of a considerable age who'd had partners of a different species. Most of their Elvish husbands were gone as it was, andthatwas taking into consideration that their species lived longer than the common in general.
Time stole all things. One could wander the cemetery in Oldetowne to see the proof of that in crumbling stone. She had visited the graveyard with Ris, who wanted to see thefinal resting places of several notable names in Cambric Creek history, and she’d not been back since that singular visit. The historic graves were there — obelisks and statuary on marble plinths, marking the graves of werewolves and shifters whose names graced the downtown landscape, several victims of the famous fire — but there was an older section of graves that had made her so impossibly sad that she’d felt the need to put distance between herself and the wrought iron gate to get some air, despite being outside in the sunshine. Age-worn etchings were barely decipherable on the forgotten, sunbleached stones in that oldest section, where the earliest settlers to the area were laid to rest, long before Cambric Creek was even incorporated. Not even their names remained. Lost to time.
Would time steal her memories as well? Would the day come when she was as tiny and aged as her own great-grandmother, when the contours of his face and the warmth of his melted chocolate eyes were lost to her? Would she forget that first weekend entirely, their first kiss, the first night they spent together beneath a sky exploding with color? Would every anniversary and milestone they’d celebrated be gone? Would she outlive her own children? Would they inherit her Elvish lifespan, or the common lifespan of their father? Would her heart be broken time and time again until there was nothing left of her but grief and misery and a yawning expanse of years to spend alone?
Thatwas what kept her up at night.
"Oh, Lurielle."
Despina's voice was full of compassion, and Lurielle realized with a jolt that she had been giving voice to the collection of suppositions that robbed her of her sleep each night. The sphinx set her tablet aside, coming around the table to sit next to her on the loveseat, her wide, leonine paws pressing into the plush carpeting, and handed her a box of tissues.
“That’s a whole lot to deal with. No wonder you’re not sleeping! That’s a heavy load to carry alone. Have you talked to Khash about the way you’re feeling?”
She shook her head vehemently. She didn’t want to burden him with her histrionics, anymore than she wanted to admit that she’d never considered the reality of their differing species until her great-grandmother’s party.
“I haven’t. I . . . what am I supposed to say? ‘I’m sad you’re going to die before me?’ Why would I even want to speak it into reality?! I probably just jinxed us by saying it here!”
That time, Despina did laugh, moving back to her own chair.
“I don’t think that’s the way it works. This is probably a bit unprofessional to disclose, but I have a feeling you'll forgive me. My partner is not of my species. There aren't many of my kind in this area. As a matter of fact, I only know of one other sphinx in Cambric Creek and I've only met maybe half a dozen in Bridgeton in all the years I've lived here. Now, we don’t live quite as long as elves, but, you know, we're no slouches. Sphinxes live longer than the common lifespan, by a fair bit. So . . . I know I am going to outlive my partner. And I recognize that’s not the same scenarioyou’redealing with, but Idounderstand. I can't tell you what to do, Lurielle. I can't give you a step-by-step set of instructions on how to come to terms with this and make peace with yourself. Only you can do that. But I'll tell you what helps me.”
She leaned forward in her seat, hoping against hope that whatever Despina was about to say was, in fact, a step-by-step set of instructions she could follow.
“The journey we're on together is more important than that final destination. The memories we make, the love we surround ourselves with. Love someone hard enough that the life you share is worth the pain of losing them. And then when they're gone, let the memories of that love and the life you built togetherkeep you warm. But right now, you can’t get so wrapped up in worrying about that future that you forget to make those memories."
Dammit. There was no checklist in sight.That was the opposite of helpful.
"Memories fade," she mumbled. “That’s what I’m worried about. Thank you for telling me that, though. That helps. Like, alot." She choked out a laugh. "I don't know anyone else who's going through this, so . . . it's pretty isolating.”
“Didn’t you tell me that one of your friends is also involved with an orc?”
Lurielle paused. She supposedtechnicallyDespina was right. Ris and Ainsley and Tate and Silva were all Elvish-Orcish couples, like her and Khash. Neither her friends were in the same type of relationship, though. Ris had emphasized on more than one occasion that she and Ainsley were just having fun, while it didn't seem as if Silva was capable of getting through a month without some sort of interpersonal catastrophe with her family, mostly centered around and stemming from her relationship with the enigmatic owner of the Plundered Pixie.
"Two of them, actually. It's not the same, though. Neither of them are in serious relationships. And I'm already asking them to help plan my wedding. I don't want to burden them with this, too."
The sphinx shrugged her shoulders. "Who are we supposed to burden with our innermost thoughts and fears if not our friends?"
"Yeah, well . . . that's why I see you once a week."
"Don’t think you’re off the hook with no homework. Start building memories big enough that they outlast your mind, my dear girl. Surround yourself in that love. And don't forget all you accomplished on your own in the past few years. You've proven to yourself and everyone else in your life that there's nothing youcan’t do, Lurielle. I have no doubt you will attack this with the same sort of dedication to results.”
