Page 31 of Cruel Saint


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Except I still seemed to be stuck in denial.

Ollie pushed his wet snout against my hand, and I scratched him behind his ears.

“I know, pal. I’m crazy.”

He whimpered, lowering himself onto the floor and looking up at me with those sad eyes.

“You miss him, too, don’t you?”

He inched forward, resting his chin on my lap as I continued unpacking photos and knickknacks to decorate the built-in bookshelves in my office. There were photos of Mama, Lachlan, and me on their wedding day. Some of Lachlan and me bobbing up and down on our surfboards in Hawaii, solving the problems of the world, as he put it. Photos from all my various graduations —high school, college, graduate school.

Mixed in with these memories were pictures of Melanie and me throughout the years. In the beginning, it was just us. But as time went on, Liam started appearing in some of the photos. It wasn’t long before Samuel came into the picture, too.

Pulling out a selfie of Samuel, Ollie, and me on the beach in Hilton Head, I ran my finger along the image, drinking in his striking blue eyes. If he had higher cheekbones and more angular features, as well as stubble along his jawline, I could see the resemblance to Gideon. They were around the same height, although Gideon was certainly more built. Not that Samuel wasn’t in great shape. He was. He was skilled at wrestling and martial arts, even if that had simply become a hobby once the company he started with Liam took off.

I placed the frame on a shelf, my gaze lingering on it for several long moments before I returned my task. After unwrapping a few more frames and setting them on the shelves, I pulled out a keepsake box.

When I lifted the lid, I sucked in a quick breath at the sight of all the letters Samuel had written to me during our relationship. It was one of the things I loved about him. Loved how he took the time to put pen to paper and write down his thoughts and feelings. Now, these letters were the only piece of Samuel Tate I had left.

Besides Ollie, of course.

With a nostalgic smile, I pulled a letter from the box and unfolded the slightly warn paper, Samuel’s familiar scrawl greeting me. I often joked about getting him a penmanship workbook since I could barely read his handwriting. Now, I relished in his chicken scratch.

My Dearest Imogene,

I love watching you sleep.

That’s not too creepy, is it? There’s just something about admiring your chest rise and fall, the look of peace on your face that I’ll never get tired of. It’s one of my favorite looks on you.

I’ll let you take a wild guess what my other favorite look on you is.

You may be lying next to me, but I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to let you know just how important you are to me. I never want to waste an opportunity where you’re concerned. I’ll always tell you how happy you make me. How grateful I am to have you in my life, regardless of the complications.

How much I love you.

Completely.

Totally.

Unconditionally.

Yours forever,

Samuel

“Unconditionally,” I repeated, tracing the symbol of unconditional love he sketched beside his name.

The same symbol that was now tattooed on my hip in the exact place he often mindlessly traced when we lay in bed together.

A sudden chiming from my cell pierced through the silence, and Ollie jumped up and ran out of the office, growling and barking at the front door. It didn’t matter that a doorbell didn’t ring.

Since Liam sent someone to install my smart doorbell earlier in the week, Ollie figured out the exact sound my phone made whenever someone was at the door.

“Settle, Ollie,” I called out, pulling myself to my feet. “It’s probably just Auntie Mel.” I unlocked my phone and navigated to the doorbell app, pulling up the feed.

When my eyes fell on a man in a courier uniform holding an oversized box instead of a tall brunette, I paused in my tracks.

A hint of trepidation trickled down my spine at the possibility it might be another necklace, but I quickly brushed it off. I couldn’t have this reaction anytime I received a delivery. Not at the rate at which I ordered things online.

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