Death Becomes Him - 16

“Why wait until now to get in touch with me?” Trent asked, pain lacing his words.

“I was afraid. When we did it, it was meant to put a finish to my… story. Like I said, to give it closure for you and for Mom and Dad. After all, how could I have done otherwise? You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d told you the truth. Or so I thought.” Rory grimaced. “For all that you say you do now, you still want me out of your life.”

“Have I said that?”

“Not in so many words, but you do. Somehow I don’t see you dealing with the ramifications of my sticking around. After all, it’s not as if I can do things with you. Normal, everyday things. There’s truth in the fact we can’t be out in the daylight. At least not until we’re Ancients, like Emily.”

“Which is how old?”

“Five thousand or more.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, sort of gives a whole new meaning to living a long and fruitful life, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll say.”

“Anyway, back to what I was saying. I was terrified of telling you. Back then and even tonight. But”—Rory looked at Trent, his deep blue eyes filled with pain—“when it came right down to it, I knew I had to. I… we came back as soon as we knew the bones had been found. Emily said we needed to make certain our plan worked the way it was supposed to and that everyone believed I was dead.” He lowered his gaze. “I had to see you one more time. I suppose in a way I needed closure too. I hoped, well no, not really hoped but I thought that by now you would have moved on and found someone new. I followed you home from the hotel.” He looked up, smiling a bit. “You do have someone new, but not the way I figured you might. He’s a cute dog.”

“Beau? Yeah he is, and a good friend and companion.”

“But not the sort you should have. Okay, I mean…”

“I know what you meant.”

“Why haven’t you found someone? You could easily enough.”

“And get my heart torn out again if they walked away? Thanks but not thanks. Once was enough.”

“I didn’t walk away,” Rory protested.

“But I didn’t know that, did I?”

“No,” Rory replied quietly. “You didn’t.”

“Are you going back to France? And why France?”

“It’s Emily’s homeland. She has a chateau there, deep in the Pyrenees. A beautiful place, a beautiful area, but then that isn’t what you wanted to know. Am I going back? Perhaps. I haven’t decided yet.” Rory gazed at Trent then turned away. “I should… let you go,” he said almost under his breath. A bit louder he added, “You have a plane to catch, a funeral to attend.”

“I suppose so. You’re folks are expecting me and I should get some sleep before I leave or I’ll look like death warmed over.”

Rory cocked an eyebrow, barely smiling. “Like me?”

“Not at all. You look, a bit pale maybe, but other than that just the way you did the last time I saw you. Just the way I will always remember you.”

“That answers my next question,” Rory said, getting to his feet. He looked down at Trent, smiling sadly. “I wish I’d listened to you that night. I… Never mind. It’s too late—for everything.” He started to walk away, paused and turned back. “No damn it. I can’t leave without at least telling you I loved you. I still do.” Without another word he was gone.

“Rory,” Trent called out, “don’t go. Please.” His voice dropped to a mournful whisper. “Don’t leave me… again.”

There was no reply. No sound except the river lapping along the banks, the leaves rustling in the trees and the distant movement of traffic in the streets behind him.