AllFreeNovel
Share Us
This is the last time.
I repeat this over and over as I make my way to our—thepark. Not our park. The park.
This is the last time.
A few minutes later and I’m sitting on the park bench, after I was so sure I would never lay eyes on it again. I can’t help but feel like this is a mistake; Arman is smooth with his words, and I worry that I’ll fall prey. At the same time, I need to give him a chance, like Olivia said.
I begin to regret coming. I’m already fighting with myself and he hasn’t even shown yet. How am I supposed to figure my shit out when he’s actually here?
Before I can contemplate further, I see him walking toward me. My breath increases as he nears. I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough, I know I’m not.
“Amelia.” His voice is soft and his expression solemn, as if he’s been in torment since I left.
I remind myself that he’s a master of lies. There’s no way that I am causing him pain like this. I’m no one.
He clearly knows better than to sit next to me, instead choosing to stand at least twelve feet away from the bench. He takes a breath, eyes never wavering from my face. “I know you’re overwhelmed—"
“Lied to. Feeling stupid for falling for your tricks. Not overwhelmed. There’s a difference.” I’m startled that the words come out so quickly and with such heat, but not surprised as my blood begins to boil at the pent-up anger I’ve felt for the past month.
He stares at me in silence, obviously also startled by my proclamation. He recovers quickly, however, clearing his throat and picking up where he left off. “I know you feel lied to. But, Amelia, I promise you that I am not lying. What purpose would be served by a lie like that?!” His voice begins to rise at the end. He looks down, trying to gain some sense of control over his emotions.
I roll my eyes, not falling for the display. I refuse to let him make me look stupidagain. “Oh, I dunno. Creating discord in the Society? Isn’t that your goal? You act like we don’t learn about you assholesconstantly. Plus, I’m training to be an official. What better target?”
Hurt flashes through his eyes. No, not hurt; he’s acting. He’sactinghurt.
Abandoning all pretense, he takes a seat next to me. When he reaches for my hand, I push myself against the railing of the bench, glaring in his direction.
Pain clouds his expression again, but then his face goes neutral, and he places his hands in his lap. “First of all, you are worth so much more than a life as an official to the Society Elders,” his voice is scathing, but he seems to catch himself and closes his eyes briefly to temper his disgust. Once he’s gotten ahold of himself, he turns to me. “Just…allow me to show you that I’m telling the truth. That’s all I ask of you. I can show you.”
My brow furrows, confused. What does that mean? I say this aloud, still on my guard.
He nods once, expecting this question. “Elders, we have this…ability. To share memories via contact. Or, in this case, give memories back, even if they are from past lives. It works best at the temples.” He raises his hands toward my face, as if demonstrating.
I shoot him a look and push myself into the railing again, and he backs off. It’s no secret that Elders have hidden abilities. He could easily be lying. Maybe he has the ability to control minds through touch. But if that were the case, wouldn’t it have been easier for him to control me than try to manipulate me with lies?
“Amelia, please. Just this one thing.” He moves a fraction closer. “Have you ever considered that maybe you do trust me, but you’re too busy protecting yourself to take the chance? That maybe you’re worth more than you think?”
I pause at his words. Is that the problem? Am I so focused on believing he’s lying because the alternative is much scarier: he’s telling the truth, and we have this grand love story meant for princesses locked in castles?
I remember Olivia’s words. If this is all true, there’s a lot to lose. Letting him prove himself is the bare minimum I can offer. Finally, I turn to look him in the eyes, resolved. “Okay. But that’s it, Arman.”
Relief floods his face as he nods. “Of course. That’s it. Let me…” He raises his hands again, placing his fingers gingerly on my temples.
I ignore the urge to back away and allow him to settle. A few seconds later, I feel a slight tingling throughout my body, leaving me breathless. I start to lose my ability to perceive depth, unsure if I’m as small as an ant or as large as a house. Fear begins to set in, just before the images start.
There areso many memories.
A girl, no,me, with light blond hair and a hot temper curled up with Arman.
Me, again, though this time with curly red hair, lying in bed next to him, sated from a sleepless night.
Image after image, life after life, flashes before my eyes. I can barely keep up, until it settles on one specific life.
It’s the first. I know it deep in my bones. This is the first time I met Arman.
I don’t look much different from now. My skin is olive and my hair dark, though much silkier than it is now. I am wearing a long, periwinkle tunic that reaches my ankles and a headdress with a veil. The first night I meet Arman, and by first, I meanfirst, he’s already an Elder. Here, though, he’s not necessarily considered bad. Simply a being that my simple mind cannot grasp. He comes to my starving village toting food and beverage. He incorporates himself into our daily lives, clearly not out of need but out of respect and intrigue. We meet at one of the nightly gatherings and dance until the sun rises.
I feel the desperation when he takes a leave of absence on a trip of duty, and the joy when he tells me he loves me for the first time.
