R. W. Patterson

“You don’t have a monopoly on pain or loss. It’s a level playing field—we all lose—we all grieve. It’s what remains afterwards that defines us. Guilt is the poison we pump into our own veins. It’s self-inflicted torture.”

“You want to show me your wrath? You want to hurt me, so show me. We can take this to the bedroom if you like—the bed might be reduced to kindling, but I’m willing to take that chance. Now fight me,” he growled aloud, his obsidian eyes narrowing to angry slits. “Show me what you are becoming.”

“If a soul could drown in its own tears, then hers was already dead.”

“What we share between us is powerful. It consumes and burns brightly, love. When we—if we—consummate this relationship, I want us to be thinking clearly. Most importantly, I want you to be strong. Healthy. I want you to be whole. I wish that for you—in every second of your life—whether you choose to stay or go—that you be you again…that your heart…and your body heal. You’ve survived much, Laney. Let us not forget your journey leading to this place in time.”

“Laney, why do I believe you transcend the ordinary? Why do I look at you, and expect to see a façade fall away, revealing something much more than even the extraordinary? Tell me."Elaine flushed, her knees wobbling. “I…don’t…know. But thank you—for the kind words. I’m flattered.” She closed her eyes wanting to hide. He was too close…too beautiful…too fervid.And she was too vulnerable, too exposed.“Look at me.”She hesitantly met his unwavering gaze.“No more hiding in your shadows,” he whispered, “because I will find you. And I will drag you kicking and screaming back into the light, where you belong. Do you understand?”“Yes."“Good.” He took her hand and guided her forward.”

“Grief—in all of its agony—burrowed deep into her essence, its serrated edges killing her piece by piece.”

“Even as she began to slip into the gloaming of her life, the primal need to live…to survive...clawed at her soul.”

“I need to say something. Take it anyway you like,” Ian stated, his eyes boring into hers with a fervor that left her holding her breath.Elaine started to shake her head. “Look, we just met…you don’t need to say…”His deep, cultured voice interrupted her. “Everything you are, Laney, resides in your eyes. I need to see you—all of you. Don’t take that from me while I’m still here. Please.”Tears welled. “You don’t even know me,” she whispered. “How can you say that?”“Because I think I do know you—I just haven’t figured out how.”

“One celestial quake and the timeline belonging to her had imploded in the heavens like a dying star. It was like falling into oblivion, she thought wearily, the tattered remains of her life floated—unanchored in a vacuum of what was and what little remained.”

“We’re at church, for god sakes!” she hissed. “This isn’t right.”He shifted just so, his eyes narrowed with stubborn determination. “Why? God is love. God nurtures love. And, I love you, Elaine Pearson, and not just for your lovely body.”“You’re talking about sex, Ian.”He visually swept the church interior, noting the empty pews and flickering candles. “No, ma’am, I’m not,” he murmured, turning his attention back to her. “Sexual attraction is only a fraction of what flows between us. My body responds to you on a physical level, but that doesn’t mean I’m not in love with your mind and your soul. Remember that,” he stated with conviction, his words sounding like an order. "I can get inside your head, love. You and I are connected in the stars—whether or not you believe that singular truth is irrelevant. What we are…who we are…together…transcends the past. Every experience led us here. You need to stop fighting me…yourself…and us.”

“Fire and ice licked at his soul—whispered his name—drawing him deeper into the enveloping pain and blackness as he’d dreamed earlier. He suddenly wished to return to the rippling stream. The water would wash away the blistering pain…the fire…the burn. He’d wade deeper…submit to the current…He’d let go…”

“Death had marked his family with unbreakable black halos, until only two remained.”

“I know you’re tired…but this is your time, Laney. Claim your power. Make everything…from the beginning until the end…make it all count.”

“Somehow everything always came down to time, she realized with perfect lucidity. There was either too much or too little. It either passed too quickly or too slowly. It didn’t belong to anyone—it was simply a gift, bestowed by God, and yet eternally taken for granted. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing Time could be tamed—reigned in—and tethered, synchronized with human needs and wants. But that wasn’t the case, was it?”