Элизабет Чандлер - Soulmates

You've fallen in love! Don't deny it.

Angels shouldn't lie to each other, and neither should friends. You're in love, Lacey."

"Better dead than never, huh?" she replied. "And now you've got your wish, so you can go on."

"Who is it?" Tristan asked curiously.

She didn't answer him.

"Who is it?" he persisted. "Tell me. Maybe I can help. I know you're hurting, Lacey. I can see it. Let me help."

"Oh, my!" Lacey walked a circle around the grave. "Look who's orbiting in the upper realm now."

He ignored the remark. "Who is it? Does he know you're here for him?"

She laughed, then dropped her chin and silently shook her head.

"Look at me," he said gently. "I can't see your face."

"Then we're even," she said quietly.

"I wish I could touch you again," Tristan told her. "I wish I could put my arms around you. I don't want to leave you hurting like this."

Lacey grimaced. "That's about the only way you can leave me," she replied softly, then looked at him with a full and steady gaze, her dark eyes shimmering with his own golden light. "Unless…," she said, "unless I leave you first. Good idea, Lacey. No sighing, no crying," she said resolutely.

Then she turned and started walking down the cemetery road.

"Lacey?" Tristan called after her.

She kept on walking.

"Lacey? Where are you going?" Tristan shouted. "Hey, Lacey, aren't you even going to say good-bye?"

Without turning around, she raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a bright purple wave. Then she disappeared behind the trees.

Like the windows of the sleepy town Tristan had passed through on his way back from the cemetery, like the windows of his parents' house that he had looked through one last time, every window in the big house on top of the ridge was dark. Tristan found the three girls asleep on the floor of Ivy's bedroom: Beth with her round, gentle face bathed in moonlight, Suzanne, her mass of black hair flung like shiny ribbons over her pillow, and Ivy in between her friends, safe at last.

What the girls didn't know-or at least had pretended not to notice-was that Philip had crept into Ivy's bedroom and was asleep now in her bed, his head at the lower end where he could listen to their secrets.

Tristan touched him with his golden light. Only Ella was missing from the quiet scene, he thought.

He sat for a long time, letting the peace of the room seep into him, reluctant to disturb Ivy's sleep, reluctant to bring the time left between them to an end. But it would end, he knew that, and when the sky began to lighten, he prayed.

"Give me one last time with her," he begged, then he knelt beside Ivy.

Focusing on the tip of his finger, he ran it along her cheek.

He felt her soft skin. He could touch her again! He could sense her warmth! Ivy's eyes fluttered open. She looked around the room, wondering.

He brushed her hand.

"Tristan?"

She sat up, and he pushed back a tumble of golden hair.

Her lips parted in a smile, and she reached to touch her hair where he had touched it. "Tristan, is it you?"

He matched that thought and slipped inside.

"Ivy."

She rose quickly and walked to the window, wrapping her arms around herself. "I thought I'd never hear your voice again," she said silently.

"I thought you were gone forever. After that moment on the bridge, I didn't see your light anymore. I can't see it now," she told him, frowning and gazing down at her hand.

"I know. I don't understand what's happening, Ivy. I just know that I'm changing. And that I won't be back."

She nodded, accepting what he said with a calm that surprised him. Then he saw her mouth quiver. She trembled and looked as if she would cry out loud, but she said nothing.

"I love you, Ivy. I'll never stop loving you."

She leaned against the window, looking out on a pale and glittering night. She looked through tears.

"I prayed for one more chance to reach you," he said, "to tell you how much I love you and to tell you to keep on loving. Someone else was meant for you, Ivy, and you were meant for someone else."

She stood up straight. "No."

"Yes, love," he said, softly but firmly.

"No!"

"Promise me, Ivy-" "I'll promise you nothing but that I love you," she cried.

"Listen to me," Tristan pleaded. "You know I can't stay any longer."

The pale, glittering night was raining now, and fresh tears gleamed on her cheeks, but he had to leave.

"I love you," he said. "I love you. Love him."

Then Tristan slipped out and saw her standing at the window in the early-morning light. He stepped back and watched her as she knelt down and rested her arms and face on the sill. He stepped back again and saw her tears dry and her eyes close. When he stepped back a third time, Tristan thought the sun had risen behind him, shattering the pale night into a thousand silver fragments.

He turned suddenly to the east, but the brilliant circle of light was not the sun. There was no knowing what it was, except that it was a light meant for him, and Tristan walked swiftly toward it.

Ivy awoke with the sun in her eyes. Before she remembered Tristan's visit, and before Beth said drowsily, "I had a dream last night that Tristan came," Ivy knew that he was gone. It wasn't a feeling she could explain, just a clear sense that he was no longer with her and wouldn't be back. The struggle to hold on to what they had, the longing to reach back in time for Tristan, and the dream of living in another world with him had ceased within her. She felt a new kind of peace.

Maggie, Andrew, and Philip were up and out of the house early that Sunday. The girls had a leisurely brunch, then Suzanne and Beth gathered their belongings and carried them out to Beth's car. Suzanne waited till then to ask the question Ivy had expected several times the previous night.

"I've been good," Suzanne began. "All last night and this morning I haven't said one thing I shouldn't have."

"You ate two brownies you shouldn't have," Ivy reminded her. She watched with amusement as Beth caught Suzanne's eye and made quick cutting signs across her throat. But Suzanne would not be silenced.

"Beth told me that if I brought this up, she'd stuff a purseful of paper in my mouth." Beth threw her hands up in the air.

"But I've got to ask. What's going on with you and Will? I mean, he saved your life. Am I right?"

"Will saved my life," Ivy agreed.

"Then what-" "I told Suzanne that you just needed some time to sort things out," Beth intervened.

Ivy nodded.

"But he's totally hooked on you!" Suzanne said, exasperated. "He's head over heels in love-he has been for months."

Ivy didn't say anything.

"I hate it when she gets that stubborn look on her face," Suzanne complained to Beth. "She looks just like her brother."

Ivy laughed then-she guessed she and Philip did share a mulish streak-but she refused to say anything more about Will.

After her friends left, Ivy walked toward Philip's tree house, pausing on the way at the patch of golden chrysanthemums where Ella was buried. She brushed the flowers with her fingers, then moved on. Beth was right, there was a lot to sort out.

Tuesday night she had told the police everything she knew about the case against Gregory-everything but Will's attempt at blackmail. Against her better judgment, Ivy had kept quiet about the note she had found in Gregory's room.

Tuesday night she had succeeded in convincing herself that the police already knew about Will. She had reasoned that they traced the blackmail money when Will deposited it. That's why Donnelly went to Will's house, she told herself now as she climbed the rope ladder of the tree house.

But Ivy knew that in the end she had to tell the police about the note.