Senescence: A Grove Hollow Novel

chapter i

Reunion

I can feel him.

The bedroom of our suite in The Actias Hotel, bathed in dim light, is still as we sit on the carpeted platform that displays the art deco mirror. Tears stream down my face. The passage of time is marked only by our erratic breathing and the rapid rise and fall of Will’s chest against mine.

My heart races a million miles a minute as I try to make sense of the impossible. Wrapped in his strong embrace, I bury my face in his neck, and the warmth of his skin brushes my wet cheek. My fingers card through the strands of his raven locks, twisting and twirling their velvety waves.

I breathe him in, inhaling the surviving scent of citrus hair oil. It’s a scent I never knew he had before. I grasp the collar of his shirt. The fabric bends to the firm clasp of my fingers, providing tangible confirmation that he is here. The invisible barrier preventing me from touching Will is gone.

A hushed sigh flows from his lips, like a gentle lullaby to soothe a weary child. It calms the restlessness of my pounding heart. I draw back as his grip loosens. Our tear-­bright eyes lock—­a reunion of two old souls who have waited centuries to cross paths again. My breathing grows shallow. Just moments ago, he seemed lost to me forever, and now here he is, right in front of me. The realization hits me with a dizzying force.

He traces the paths of tears on my cheeks. The smooth touch of his fingertips carries a light tickle. A soft laugh escapes me, more of a staggered sigh of relief.

“You’re really here,” I whisper.

“I really am.” A tear streams down his face as his hand caresses my cheek. “And I can touch you.”

“But how?” I lean in to his palm and close my eyes. “How is any of this real?”

Will left. He left me through the mirror. I saw the whole thing happen. With each passing hour, the gaping hole in my chest expanded, intensifying the ache within. But here he is, sitting before me. None of this . . . none of this makes any sense. The knots are starting to form in my stomach. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m hallucinating from exhaustion.

No.

I can feel him.

His touch is warm, weighted, and real. My mind is in a blurry haze as I struggle to process everything logically.

“They let me return.”

My eyes flutter open. I peer past Will. The hotel mirror’s reflection displays only the two of us perched on the floor of the platform before it. Why did Osiris and Isis want him and the necklace? And where did they take him?

“They let you come back? I—­I don’t understand. How come?”

His hands move down my shoulders and come to a halt at my elbows. He exhales, glancing at the beetle locket beside us. “I’m unsure.”

Will picks up the locket and studies it with hesitation, as if one touch could transport him back to wherever he was and end all of this. The uncertainty squeezes my chest.

“What happened, Will?”

Without looking away from the scarab, he says, “When I stepped through the mirror, I was greeted by the most beautiful music coming from a sky filled with new colors. The two figures led me toward a bright light that promised me freedom from all sadness and anger. When I heard my mother’s voice calling my name, I knew everything would be all right.” He pauses to wipe the corner of his eye. “Before I stepped into the light, the man—­Osiris, I believe him to be—­presented me with the locket. I didn’t understand at first, but I soon realized I had a choice.” He tucks the locket into his pocket.

I take a shuddering breath. “What kind of choice were you given?”

“To accompany them to the other side or return here.”

My nose stings, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. The heaviness of what my reality could have been, had he chosen differently, pushes down on me. I’d have been forced to wake up and face each day without Will, mired in memories of moments shared with him and knowing we’d never create new ones. I’d have had to learn how to live with a heartache too powerful to suppress.

My vision blurs with tears. I want him here with me, more than anything. Losing Will is a pain I never wish to experience again. But my relief is tinged with guilt as I wrestle with my own greedy wants and desires versus what might have been best for him. If he’d chosen the other path, could I have mustered the strength to accept his leaving? Could I have genuinely found contentment in his eternal happiness and selflessly moved forward with my life?

Without him?

The ball in my stomach rises and chokes my throat, tears spilling hot down my cheeks. I throw my arms around his neck.

“Will, I thought I’d lost you forever,” I cry into his shoulder.

His arms tighten around my back, proving this is real: Will has been granted a second chance at life, with the warmth of flesh and the reassuring mass of existence. My heart is full of gratitude. We both share in this second chance. It’s an opportunity for something more. He lets out a faint, melodic laugh that vibrates against my chest. He nestles his head onto mine.

“You feel more incredible than I ever imagined,” he says, so quietly I wonder if he meant for me to hear it.

His embrace is an uncompromising chain meant to keep me close. I offer no resistance. A blush graces his cheeks. His whole body radiates with newfound color. His teeth gently tug at the bottom of his lip, and he hides a shy grin. His vulnerable confession was never meant for my ears.

In the soft glow of the hotel’s light, we share breaths in the small space between us.

I trace the edge of his face, his sharp jaw, his full lips. Could this be a dream? Is it really his soft skin I feel beneath my fingertips? I follow the graceful line of his neck, gently gliding over his firm collar­bone concealed beneath the elevated collar of his shirt. I lay my hand flat on his chest. His heart thuds against my palm, each heartbeat a spirited pulse of life. No, this is not a dream. This is the beautiful sensation of touching Will.

As our eyes reunite, fireworks burst inside my chest, their sparkling flare tingling in my fingertips and down to my toes, and I gulp down air. My hand shakes as it rests on his chest. I clench and unclench my fingers to steady them.

“Will, having you here is everything I’ve ever wished for—­losing you was like living through a never-­ending nightmare.” I glance at the mirror. “Knowing how happy you would have been crossing over . . . are you sure returning here is what you want?”

His lips tremble as he draws a long breath. His eyes narrow under his serious brow, and my belly burns. What if he chooses to go?

“Jade Whitney,” he whispers, “I would have chosen to come back to you a million times.”

I gasp. My ability to speak abandons me. My mouth falls open as I absorb the meaning of his words.

Will chooses me.

The blush returns to his face. His eyes deepen, stoking the vibrant, blazing fire within me. No words seem sufficient to express how thankful I am for Will’s profound sacrifice. Instead, I slide my hand behind his neck, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, letting his dark hair cascade over his closed eyes.

Time slows, and I savor the initial touch of his gentle lips gliding over mine. His kiss feels like a new song, fated to be a favorite tune I want on repeat forever. The song plays in harmony with the swift beats of our hearts, as each lyric narrates a bittersweet story—­our story.

As time speeds forward, my fingers twist through his hair, clutching the nape of his neck. I make a concerted effort to absorb every magical, rippling feeling, with the desire to permanently etch the memory of my first kiss with Will in my mind. His arms tighten around my back, drawing me nearer until the delicate tips of his eyelashes brush against my cheeks. A dreamy sigh escapes me, met by his gentle laughter. Delight flitters through my belly. It’s as though the universe conspires to intertwine us, and no earthly force could sever the unbreakable bond pulling us closer together.

The fluttering in my stomach subsides, giving way to a soothing feeling of familiarity. His hands find their way to the sides of my face, and he deepens our kiss. We surrender to unhurried exploration, and our kisses unfold slowly and purposefully, revealing the contours of each other. Each touch of our lips unveils a new discovery. I long to know every part of him, and now we have time on our side.

Our kissing slows, and he gently pulls away. My heart soars high above the clouds, and my body descends from the peak of a roller coaster. I lean against him, weakened by the intensity of unfamiliar yet exquisite feelings coursing through me, and I dissolve into his arms. I cling to him for support while his hands glide beneath my knees, carrying me over to the bed. His head finds its place on his pillow. Gently, his fingers trace along my arm, leaving ghostly goose bumps in their wake. I can’t believe this is real. I smile, as I no longer have to rely on my imagination to understand the feel of his touch.

“How are you feeling?” I ask him.

He chuckles. “I should be asking you that question.”

“I’m much better now that you’re here.” My limbs are heavy, my thoughts hazy with exhaustion and relief.

He smiles, pleased with my response.

“I feel hungry, cold, and very tired,” he answers. “I forgot how delicate the human body is.”

“Let me find you something to eat.”

I sit up on the bed, intending to grab some leftover cheese from the charcuterie tray in the mini-­fridge, but he pulls me back down beside him.