Page 105 of Eternal Devotion

Was it odd for him, celebrating the life of her dead husband fifteen years after his passing? He seemed comfortable. Content. Happy.

So did she.

Despite my guilt and fears, despite having told Mordecai that people in my hometown would talk behind my back and give me dirty looks, that they would outright blame me for my father’s death, everyone was perfectly cordial. Regardless, I couldn’t help feeling disconnected. The outsider who didn’t belong. For years, my mother and I had leaned on one another, holding each other up. I was all she had left.

Until now.

In that precise moment, I recognized the distance that had grown between us over the past month. Our daily emails had petered off. We didn’t speak on the phone with the same regularity. Texts were fewer and farther between. I took partial blame. I’d been caught up in everything Mordecai, but in my defense, it wasn’t every day you found out the guy you were sleeping with wasn’t human. And yes, maybe I’d been equally preoccupied.

But Mom had found someone else too. Someone to fill the void. Someone to lean on. Someone to share time with. Someone who helped her look forward, not back. Someone who brought a smile to her face instead of tears to her eyes.

I would always be a reminder of all she’d lost.

Later that night, Mom got me alone. Mordecai had gone for a walk after sunset, and James was… somewhere.

“You don’t like him.” Hurt cut grooves into her forehead.

“I don’t know him, Mom. How can I not like him?”

“He’s a good man.”

“I have no doubt. I’m glad you’re happy.”

And I was.

Mom must have read the pain in my heart and drew me in for a long hug. Shamefully, I cried on her shoulder.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

When she released me, she dried my tears and held my face. Then, with a frown, she pushed my shirt collar aside. “Your necklace. You aren’t wearing it.”

I touched my throat. “Oh. It’s at home. I must have forgotten it after my shower.” A lie. I no longer wore the necklace because of Mordecai.

“Oh, sweetie. Please put it back on when you get home. It protects you.”

I wasn’t sure I believed it anymore. Protected me against what? Against whom? Mordecai? Sweet, gentle Mordecai? He believed his curse was the devil’s doing. That he was reborn from evil. Eternally punished for something he couldn’t identify. But why? What had he ever done that was so wrong that he deserved the fate he’d been given?

What had my father done?

God, heaven, hell. It was too much to process. Who drew the line between good and evil? Who decided who suffered and who didn’t? Maybe there were things in the universe we weren’t meant to understand. Things we weren’t meant to control. Perhaps our destinies were set, and no amount of jewelry and prayers would change the course of the universe.

It wasn’t a conversation I could have with my mother. Her faith was too deeply embedded, and mine had long since fallen to pieces.

“I’ll put it on when I get home.”

Mordecai and I left the following morning after a smattering of goodbyes and well wishes from my mother and James—who had spent the night.

Driving away from my hometown, I was assaulted by a strange foreboding. I couldn’t help thinking that I might never return to Strathroy, that I would never see my mother again, that I was leaving it all behind for good. The past, the pain, the memories, the guilt. A door had shut on all of it without my notice or permission.

I was adrift.

November started much the way October ended, under a moody, overcast sky, with a blanket of fine rain, a muted landscape, and a chilly north wind that sank into my bones and made me think I would never be warm again.

Something ominous hung in the air, foretelling of a future I had yet to understand.

Recognizing my disquiet, Mordecai took my hand. For the first time since we met, I sensed no difference in our body temperature.