She stood there in the doorway, at first unable to move without him guiding her and then unwilling to startle the red cardinals that swooped to the bird-feeders hanging just outside the doors, and the chickadees clamoring for the suet and hanging upside down to acquire the remaining sunflower seeds.
Old cloth-bound books lined the shelves of the heavy bookcase, titles gold-stamped on the spines – curiously she stepped closer to read them. Not words, but symbols, like nothing she had ever seen before labeled each and every one of the more than one thousand books.
Perplexed, she glanced around the room then sank into the overstuffed leather couch promptly choosing the middle cushion so Philip could sit on either side of her.
He entered the room carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and sat down on the couch to her left. She should have known he would because she was right handed and he was left handed, and that way they never bumped into each other. Time could never erase her memories of him.
He tried to hand a hot cup of tea to her carefully, but her hands were still shaking so he allowed her to take a few sips while holding the cup for her and then placed it back on the table. As he reached for both her hands to hold in his, she turned to look at him with deep questioning eyes.
“There is no easy way to tell you this CJ, so I will get right to the point. Do you remember that night in the darkness of your apartment, when you debated whether to take the handful of pills or not?”
She stared blankly at him. It took her more than a few seconds to register what he was saying, first because her memory of that night was thread bare, and second it then occurred to her that she had never once thought of that time since. In disbelief she finally whispered, “How could you know about that?”
“And you worried about karma?” he continued unabated.
She stared at him, and slowly, ever so slowly, her entire body began to shiver.
Quickening his verbal pace, “Well, you took them…”
She stared at him and at once became like stone, and without delay he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and held her tightly, placing his hand on the side of her head to gently guide her to rest against his chest. She felt a fine white energy from Philip’s body heat rise up and envelope her; warm, heavy, and profoundly calming. She heard his heartbeat rhythmically in her ear, and with that nothing else mattered.
The Forgotten Song will be available in eBook July 1, 2020
If you would like to pre-order or a notification when it will be ready, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org