Page 71 of The Last Kelpie

My throat tightened. “Áedán.”

“It's fine.” He slipped out of his shirt. “I'm fine. Just being practical.”

He wasn't fine. But I understood the impulse. The need to hold on to something, even if it was just words on a page.

“Come here.” I pulled back the covers and set my book aside.

Áedán finished undressing, then crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed. I pulled him close, and he leaned into me, his head on my shoulder. We sat like that for a long time, not speaking. Then we slid under the blankets, and he turned off the lamp.

Eventually, Áedán fell asleep. I stayed awake, listening to his breathing, feeling the weight of him against me. When I was sure he was deeply asleep, I carefully slipped out of his embrace and got out of bed.

The notebook was still on the desk. I shouldn't look. I knew I shouldn't. But I picked it up anyway. I just wanted a peek. So, I flipped to a random page and read. It was a sweet memory of his mother. About two sentences in, I felt like a creep. So I put the book back.

It flopped as I set it down and opened to the first page. I froze with my hand hovering over it. The first page was mostly blank. There was writing at the bottom, but as I watched, it faded. Dissolved into nothing, just like the Forgotten in the loch.

My hands started shaking. I looked back at Áedán, still sleeping peacefully, then down at the blank page. His words were already disappearing. How much longer did he have?

I closed the notebook and moved it back to where it had been in. Then I slipped under the blankets and pulled Áedán close. I held him as if I could keep him solid through sheer force of will. I certainly was determined. But would it be enough? Would I be enough?

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next morning, I opened my eyes to find Áedán already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the notebook in his hands. His shoulders were rigid, and his head bowed. He turned the pages slowly, methodically.

“Áedán?”

He didn't look at me. “They're gone.”

I sat up, the blankets pooling around my waist. “What's gone?”

“The pages.” Áedán's voice was flat. Empty. “I wrote twenty pages. Maybe more. I don't remember exactly how many, which I suppose is the point.” He turned another blank page. Then another. “They've all vanished.”

I moved to sit beside him. The notebook was open to what should have been the middle, but the pages were pristine. Untouched. As if he'd never written a single word. I had hoped they might last a little longer.

“I'm pure feart.” His words came out quiet, almost conversational, which made them worse somehow.

“You're what?”

“Terrified. I'm feart that one day I'll wake up, and I wullnae remember you either, that I'll look at you and see a stranger. What if everything we've done, everything we are, just flows away from me like water over stone?”

My chest felt tight, and my shoulders burned. I took the notebook from his hands and set it aside, then turned him to face me. Áedán's normally glittering green eyes were dark, haunted, and dull. I cupped his face in my hands. “Memory isn't the only place we exist.”

“Ethan.”

“It's not.” I stroked my thumb across his cheekbone. “We're right here, right now. You and I are in everything we do.” I slid my hands down to his shoulders and then over his chest. “What we've shared is in our skin. It has sunk into our souls.” I took his hand and placed it over my heart. “You are right here, Áedán. Always. And I will always be with you. Even when your mind forgets, your body will know my touch. Memory is just one way we hold on to each other. It's not the only way.”

His eyes searched mine. Looking for certainty, maybe. Or hope. “I dinnae ken if I believe that,” he whispered.

“Then believe in me believing it.” I leaned forward and kissed him. Soft at first, then strong, steady. Through my lips, I offered to ground Áedán to the present and the world. His hands came up to grip my shoulders, holding on as if I were the only solid thing in an intangible universe.

When we eased out of our kiss, I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. His face pressed into the curve of my neck, and his breath caressed my skin.

“I've got you,” I said. “I won't let you forget. I will remind you every day, every hour if I have to.”

Áedán didn't answer. Just held on tighter.

We stayed like that for several minutes, and then I led Áedán to the bathroom, and we showered together. He especially needed the water on his skin. I washed him, then massaged him under the spray, letting him soak it in. Afterward, I started to dry him off, but he stopped me and used his magic to dry us both. Then we got dressed and went to the dining hall for breakfast.

The dining hall was in full chaos when we arrived. Brannoc stood at one of the long tables, gesturing emphatically at a bowl of porridge while Mateo stared him down with arms crossed over his chest.