Page 18 of Not Another Happily Ever After

Then the wind picks up and slams my already bruised body into the wall.

“Sunday!”

Corroded stones pummel my chest and cheek, drawing a pained groan from my stomach.

“Sunday?” The growing urgency in his voice fights against the berating wind.

He’s panicking. I hate it when he panics.

I muster every last bit of my strength to keep my voice from trembling when I answer. “Yes?”

Silence. I start to wonder if he’s still there when his voice breaks against the wind, “Do you trust me?”

“Is that even a question?” I huff.

His lips part in reply.

Oh.

“With my whole heart.” I answer, and god, if that perfect curve of his lips doesn’t already have me falling.

Riven must notice the warmth spreading into my cheeks because he looks away, clearing his throat. “It’s time to let go, Miss Sunday.”

I suck in a ragged breath, my weakened grip straining to do the opposite of just that. Letting go defies every instinct urging me to hold on.

“I’ve got you, Miss Sunday,” Riven soothes, but I can hear it in his voice. It’s now or never.

I take one more deep breath in and reach for the swaying vine.

“That’s it.” Riven nods. “Now climb!”

I hold my breath the whole way up until my stomach is flat on solid ground once more.

“That was…” I shake my head, still trying to catch my breath.

“That,” Riven forces out between a few ragged breaths of his own, “is never going to happen again.”

I roll onto my back, eyes narrowing on how his chest rises and falls in quick succession. If my feet weren’t still dangling over the ledge, I’d think he was the one about to fall from it. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up?—

Wait.

“Do the dead breathe?” The question pops out so quickly it startles us both.

I push myself into a seated position beside him. “I’m sorry. I just— do they?” I ask, unable to silence my unbridled curiosity.

A hint of amusement tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You are very much alive, Miss.”

“But you’re not.”

I slap my hand over my lips, desperate to take back the words I’ve let slip.

I did not just say that aloud.

Riven doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. And I—I turn away, casting my eyes toward my dirtied feet, too much of a coward to watch the evidence of pain I might have caused.

“I am so sorry. I?—”

“It’s okay.” Riven slides his hand close to me and I watch his fingers flex, resisting a life he will never be a part of again. For just a heartbeat I wonder, what might it feel like to meet him in the ever after? To hold his hand in mine?