Because loving him is heavier, and somehow, it’s worth the ache.
Levi shifts, his breath catching, and I rest my chin on the top of his head. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore,” I whisper.
Because the choice is clear, and I’m not going anywhere.
“I thought about telling you a hundred times,” he says, his voice slightly strained. “But somehow, ‘Hey, you probably met me when I was seven and crying uncontrollably at your funeral home’ didn’t feel like a great opener.” He gives a humorless laugh, brittle at the edges. “I didn’t know how to bring it up without making it feel…real again. Without admitting how much power that day still has over me.”
His truth settles between us, weighted with years of unspoken hurt. I rub his back slowly, grounding us both.
“I wish I’d connected the dots sooner. That it was you, your family, your grief,” I say hesitantly. “Thousands of souls blur…names, their relationships. But their auras and their faces neverfade. The photo of you and your brother on your fridge? I remembered him immediately.”
Levi tenses in my arms, his breathing uneven as he absorbs my words.
“It never occurred to me that you’d remember him.”
I shake my head gently, my chest aching with something deeper. “No soul is ever just another to me. I remember their faces. Your brother carried a gentleness and warmth. Even after, it stayed with me.Hestayed with me.”
He shifts, pulling closer against me, fingers knotting in my sweater as if to anchor himself in this moment.
Levi trembles, my shadows settling tighter around us, attuned entirely to him. “I’m just glad you’re here now,” he finally says, voice small and vulnerable.
My heart swells. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”
He nods slowly against my chest, breathing evening out, body growing heavier as sleep finally claims him. And as I hold him tighter, my shadows protecting him, I realize something important.
All this time, I thought my purpose was helping others move past grief.
Now, I understand that my true purpose, my real power, might be to simply stay with them through it.
25
Levi
I wake slowly, Hayden’sarms around me, his shadows draped like cool ribbons across my chest. For a moment, I just breathe him in. Steady, warm, present. Then memory presses in. The grief. How it swallowed me.
How he stayed.
Hayden stirs, presses a kiss to the back of my head, then slips out of bed. I hear the hum of the coffee machine before he returns, offering me a hand. No words, just the quiet intent in his eyes:Let me carry you, just for today.
He undresses me with care, pulls me into the shower, and washes me methodically.
It’s intimacy beyond sex. Care and devotion.
It’s love, fluent without words.
And I think I understand now. Why people must fall for him, for the god of the underworld, for the man who carries death in his hands but still chooses tenderness. I close my eyes, letting the water rush over me, letting this man hold me up in case I need it.
Because right now, I think I do.
By the time he sets a plate of food in front of me…toast, eggs,coffee…the fog in my chest has eased just enough that I can breathe again.
Before he leaves, he lingers at the door. “There’s, uh…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Irene leads a grief group on Thursdays at the community center.”
Oh.
His gaze flickers to mine, uncertain. “You don’t have to go. But if you ever wanted to, I could go with you. Or just…make sure you have the details. Your choice.”
I stare at him.
