“What are you reading?” she asks, circling the desk. She nods down at the book in my lap, and she lifts a brow. “The Bible?” I quickly open a nearby drawer and shamefully hide the evidence of my moral struggles. She swallows before taking a tentative seat on my lap. She wraps one arm over my shoulder, her long, soft legs crossed over one another. “Where were you this morning?”
She smells like an angel. A combination of sugar and salvation. I bury my head into the crook of her neck and inhale, praying I never forget her scent. “I had some errands to run.”
“Errands?” I feel her left hand gliding toward the paperwork on the desk. She sighs. “I see.”
I refuse to open my eyes. I refuse to watch her catch me in a lie. My lips rest against her pulse point, and I can feel her rhythmic heartbeat against my skin.Tick tock. Tick tock.Like a clock. A clock powered by a battery I sourced. It’s so hauntingly beautiful. The melody of her breathing. The evidence of life, both given and taken away.
Tears well in my eyes and roll onto her shoulder. I can’t stop them. I have no strength to prevent them from pouring out.
“You’re allowed to feel conflicted, Damon,” she whispers, curling into my embrace. “You loved her. But…” She swallows. “I know what I felt that day on the balcony. It wasn't… It wasn’t of this world. I felt her, Damon. You saw it. I know you did. And I know… I know you felt it too. And I-I think maybe, regardless of your part in her story, the ending would’ve been the same.”
I stiffen. “We can’t know that, Emery.”
“You’re right,” she sighs. “We can’t.” She pulls away, her eyes locking with mine. “But isn’t that a lovely thought? That all of this… All of this was somehow part of a bigger plan.”
I frown at her. “You don’t believe in fate. You made that clear from the start.”
She palms my cheek, tilting her head as she smiles. “That day changed me, Damon. It’s hard to explain, but she was in here.” Emery points to her chest, to her scar. She places a hand over her heart. “I can’t prove anything to you, Damon. I have no facts or empirical evidence. No quantitative data. But I know that what I felt was the truth.” She pauses. “God is not angry with you, Damon. The universe isn’t angry. I am not angry with you. Alison…” I wince. “Alison is not angry with you.” She places a chaste kiss on my temple, and whispers, “So, please, Damon, stop being so fucking angry with yourself.”
I hold her in my arms for what feels like hours. Use her as a weight. A rock. An anchor. I want to believe her. I desperately wish her words would cure me. Save me. I’m trying. God knows I’m fucking trying. And I’ll continue to try. For her. For Quin.
And, despite my resignations, for myself.
THE MELODY
EMERY
The plane begins to taxi,and I stare out the large window at the disappearing terminal. The engine rumbles, an unsettling reminder of the distance between Damon and me. A pang of guilt tugs at my chest. I should've stayed with him. It feels wrong leaving him alone. But what was I supposed to do? Drag him? Tie him to a seat on Quin’s jet? Force him to join us?
He’s an adult. A grown-ass man. And he’s capable of making his own decisions. Maybe he’ll spend the next seventy-two hours trying out a million other hobbies. Quin mentioned he saw a horse-riding pamphlet on Damon’s desk. Damon on a horse. It’s an odd image. But if it makes him happy then so be it.
The sharp sound of a lighter being flicked draws myattention, and I turn my head to find Amir seconds away from lighting a cigar. My eyes widen in disbelief as I swiftly grab the cigar from his mouth.
"Are you crazy?” I hiss. “What are you doing? You’re going to get us kicked off the fucking flight.”
Amir blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Am I not allowed to smoke?"
I point to the illuminated no-smoking sign above our cabin. "Seriously? Smoking on a plane has been banned since like the 90s or something."
“Even in first class?”
Is this a joke? “Everywhere.”
Amir sighs, pocketing his lighter. "My apologies. I didn't realize it was a rule. I've never flown commercial before."
I shoot him a glare. "You really are a little prince, aren't you?"
He smirks. "Well, technically, a very late and distant cousin of mine was a?—"
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. "Don’t start with that again. In no universe will I ever address you as My Royal Highness.”
“I’m just saying…” Amir chuckles, dropping the topic as he glances over his shoulder. "I don't mean to alarm you, Miss Jones, but there are two rather large men three rows behind us who can’t seem to stop staring at you."
I follow his gaze, inwardly cringing. "Just ignore them."
Amir purses his lips. "You know who they are?"
I could lie but there's no point. Amir will undoubtedlynotice them following us around all weekend. "Yes, they're my...bodyguards. Barry and Larry."
