Page 52 of Sorrow & Strangers

I pull him down and claim his mouth, not wanting to hear him tell me to live without him. Connor kisses me back, but I can feel his trepidation. I deepen the kiss, my lips frantically moving on his, desperate to glue us together, entwine us so he can’t leave me again.

Connor pulls back and presses his forehead to mine. I look at him, but his eyes are closed.

“One last moment.”

“Forever,” I say, tilting my head and kissing him again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Summer

Connor walks us to the bed and sits down with me in his lap. My hands roam over his chest, the absence of his steady heartbeat making me whimper.

“Summer?” Connor says, cupping my cheek and tilting my head up so my gaze meets his.

A sob catches in my throat. “I’m sorry, I just⁠—”

He brushes another tear away. “Babe, you need to understand. You were my great love, but I’m not yours.”

“What?” I blink, the sadness quickly being burned up by something else.

Connor brushes another kiss to my lips. “It’s all right.”

“Connor, no.” I shake my head like it’ll expel his words from existence. “You’re my love. My soul.”

“No, I was your love, and deep down you know that’s not true. I was what you needed at that moment in your life.”

I shake my head, more tears spilling from my eyes, but these burn with anger.

“I gave my life for you to live. To love.” He brushes his thumb along my cheek. “There is no worthier cause.”

“I love you, Connor. I love you.” Even though the anger burns bright, there is only sorrow in my voice.

Connor sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. “You are so stubborn.” He chuckles and shifts so he’s lying down on his bed. Pulling me on top of him, he kisses the top of my head.

“I was supposed to be Mrs. Morningstar right now,” I whimper, brushing my fingers over his pecs, my attention catching on my naked ring finger.

“Babe. He’s out there. I wouldn’t have been able to keep you from him,” Connor says, looking down at me.

I shake my head and shift to lean on his chest so I can look at him, hating that I missed even a moment of studying his face. “I’m yours. I have been and will always be yours.”

Connor sighs. “You’re still not listening to me.” He runs his fingers through my hair, twisting the locks between his fingers.

“No, I’m not because you’re being crazy,” I say, shaking my head. “I love you, and I was going to marry you.” I frown at him. “You don’t want that anymore? You don’t want me?” I ask, the words seeming to claw at my throat as I speak them.

Connor buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply, and he chuckles again. “You are just as effortlessly adorable as you were when we first started dating.” He pulls back, looking up at me again, his face set in a relaxed smile. He tilts his head for a moment as if listening to something. His brows knit, and then he smiles again, that same blindingly beautiful smile that haunts my dreams. “I got permission to show you something.”

Connor sits up and leans back against the headboard, pulling me with him so I’m once again sitting on his lap. He kisses my head and then waves his hand. In front of us, images begin to flicker, like a movie playing in midair. I frown, but then I hear a familiar voice, and the picture comes into focus, revealing a bride wearing a white dress.

“Ready, kiddo?” Uriel’s voice comes from outside the spacious tent.

The bride turns her head toward the door, and it’s my side profile I’m looking at. What is this? Some kind of sick joke? Showing me what could have been.

“What is this?” I ask, fresh tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Your future,” Connor says, absentmindedly playing with my hair.

I shake my head.