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How could he have gained and lost everything he’d ever wanted all in one breath?

This place was warm. Soft. It brushed against his skin, loosed the strain and exhaustion from his shoulders.

“We’re happy you’re finally here with us,” his father said, arm sliding around his shoulders. “Right where you belong.”

Wolfe stared down at the earth so far below him.

To where she waited.

He didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was wrong—where he belonged wasn’t here but back below, back with her, back in her arms, held in the glow of her heart.

Wolfe closed his eyes and let her go, praying with everything inside him that he would one day find his way back to her again.

Chapter 35

Everything around me was quiet.

Those final two weeks in Ireland ripped something from my soul—something I thought I just might never get back. The castle was cold, draped in shadow and sorrow. I hadn’t realized that even before Wolfe had materialized, he’d brought a signature to the space. An energy, a warmth, that made such a sprawling place feel like home.

The logs in the fire were blackened and hardened. For a while I wondered if I’d just imagined all those fires being lit because the wood left in the grate had nothing left to give.

I promised him I would try, and I meant it.

After the day he disappeared, I went back to bed and cried.

I didn’t write for the rest of the week. Instead, I sat outside by his grave and picked the thistles from the grass around it. I knotted them with a bow and laid them over top. It was odd not to feel him. Odd to just…feel the air around me. No charge. No electricity. No amusement.

It was just me and the sea.

I dragged myself to book club that week with red-rimmed eyes and a heavy heart. I knew they all saw the new ring on my finger but no one was brave enough to ask. Only Isadora pulled me aside, eyes concerned on my face.

“I can’t feel him anymore,” she whispered.

A fresh wave of tears took over. “No,” I managed, throat thick. “You won’t again.”

She laid a heavy hand on my arm in sympathy.

If she thought I was insane for falling in love with a ghost, she was good enough not to say it. I didn’t tell them my birthday was two days away. I didn’t feel much like celebrating and I thought that Wolfe would have understood.

The morning of, I walked into town and picked up a chocolate cake and a bottle of wine for myself. I walked in silence, boots crunching over the gravel. I turned to the empty space beside me twice, mouth opened to speak, when I realized he wasn’t there. I clenched my jaw so hard it ached, but I kept moving.

I filled the bath, dumped in some of my expensive soaps, and slid in. I ate the cake right out of the box and the wine directly from the bottle. It was a depressing sight, to be sure, and I swore I could feel Wolfe’s disappointment from here.

“It’s main character energy,” I said into the silence. “I’m channeling.”

My voice echoed against the tiles, but no other sound came.

Drunk and stuffed full of chocolate, I collapsed into bed and fell asleep with the lights on.

Writing was painful, but I forced myself to do it. I sent Marissa my newest chapters. I walked the cliffs. Sat by his grave, ripped the petals from the dead thistles and tossed them into the sea.

On my last week, Moira’s book club threw me a going away party. It was cruel, in a way, to have only fallen in with them now. To just get to know them in such a capacity. I adored all of them. Lisette and Bianca were close in age to me and I thought if given the chance, something deep-seeded could grow between the three of us.

Nadine offered to conference call me into their meetings if I wanted to stay with the club and with tears in my eyes, I told her I would like that very much. Moira packed me snacks for my flight home and handed me a hand-made blanket in the colors of Ireland. I clutched it to my chest, wondering how much more I could stand to lose.

But it was Tommy that walked me out. Tommy that had to clear the emotion from his throat before he said goodbye.

“I know you’re grown,” he said gruffly, “but I know—I know what going home means for ya. If you need me—if you need to talk—promise that you’ll call. I’d like to consider you one of my own, if you’ll have me.”