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Chapter 57
e My Second Chance Mate
I knew this wasn’t the first time I’d made promises like this, but something felt different now. Final. Like I was truly ready to let go of the guilt that had been poisoning me from the inside out.
I would never again let anyone steal my joy. This was my life, and I was going to take charge of it.
When I’d finally cried myself empty, when the last tremor had left my shoulders, Tristan held me until my breathing steadied. Only then did he gently pull back and nod toward another part of the cemetery.
“Are you ready?” he asked softly.
I followed his gaze and saw another headstone, smaller and newer than the others, standing alone beneath a young maple tree. My heart clenched as I realized what, who, was waiting there.
Jess.
We walked over together, our footsteps seeming too loud in the reverent silence. The headstone was simple but elegant, rose granite polished to a mirror shine.
Fresh flowers lay at its base, white roses and baby’s breath that couldn’t have been there more than a day or two.
Tristan moved closer to the grave first, his movements careful and deliberate, like he was approaching something sacred and fragile.
“Baby,” he said, his voice breaking on the endearment, “I want you to meet my… sister, Athena.”
The word ‘sister‘ came out strained, like it physically hurt him to say it.
I watched as pain flickered across his features, raw and unguarded in a way that made my chest ache. He looked like his world was crumbling all over again, like this was the first time he was truly accepting
that she was gone.
It made me wonder if he’d actually been avoiding this place, if tonight was as much about his healing
as it was about mine.
“You’ve always wanted to meet her,” he continued, and I looked up in surprise. She’d known about me.
that mattered. Of course she had, she’d been his mate, his partner in every wa
They’d shared everything, including stories about the girl who’d been like a sister to him since
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Chapter 57
childhood.
While I’d known nothing about her. The familiar gult started to rise, but I pushed it down firmly. I’d made a promise to our parents, and I was going to keep it.
“I know you’d love to hear from her,” Tristan said, looking at me with eyes that held a desperate kind of hope, “so I’ll let her talk to you.”
What could I possibly say to this woman? How do you address the grave of someone who’d been everything you’d once dreamed of being?
Hey, it’s me. The girl who was once madly in love with your mate, who still can’t control her feelings around him even though he’ll never be mine.
The thought made me feel sick, but Tristan was waiting, and I could see how much this meant to him.
I cleared my throat and stepped closer to the headstone, running my fingers over the cool granite.
– “Hi, Jess,” I said, my voice steadier than I’d expected. “It’s me, Athena. You probably know all about me
already, I’m sure Tristan talked about me every day. He’s never been able to go more than five minutes
without bragging about something I’ve done.”
Tristan’s laugh was watery but genuine, and the sound gave me courage to continue.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come see you. Tristan’s been so greedy, keeping your memory all to himself. He wanted to hoard all your perfection instead of sharing.”
His smile became more real then, less painful and more fond.
“I’m still shocked that someone as perfect as you ended up with someone like him,” I continued, glancing at Tristan with mock severity. “But I’m so glad you came into his life. Thank you for loving him the way he deserved to be loved.”
I reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently. “I promise I’ll make sure he doesn’t destroy himself grieving for you. I’ll try my best to make sure he keeps smiling, because I know that’s what you’d want. Keep resting, love.”
Tristan’s lips moved silently, and I read “thank you in the shape of them. I mouthed “you’re welcome” back and stepped away to give him privacy for whatever he needed to say.
I watched him from a distance as he knelt beside the grave, his shoulders bowed with the weight of
Chapter 57
everything he was carrying.
His lips moved in what looked like a long, complicated conversation, and I found myself wondering what promises he was making, what guilt he was confessing, what love he was declaring to the woman who would never answer him again.
When he finally stood and walked back to me, his eyes were red–rimmed but somehow lighter, like he’d set down a burden he’d been carrying too long.
“Ready to go?” I asked gently.
He nodded and took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine as we walked back toward his
motorcycle.
When we reached the bike, he handed me the spare helmet, but instead of putting on his own, he stood there looking at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“We still have one more stop,” he said.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
