That hurt. Deeply.

In my mind, as I heard my beloved wife say she would never love me, I flashed back to her face on our wedding day, seeing her mouth shape the word ‘forever’, skipping forward then to days by our lake and to so many moments where our love was tested. All of it—every moment that led us here—shot through my heart and my veins like a toxin, hurting me deeper as those words in that single moment became my greatest test of all.

In her mind this girl was someone else, but all I saw when I looked at her was the woman I spent twenty years with. I breathed in deep to stifle the pain inside me, holding back the urge to cry—to sob right here on the floor in front of her. It was stupid to have ever expected anything to develop from nothing but a past we shared before she even knew me. I waited so long to hold my wife again, to tell her I was sorry for everything she suffered that day—everything I had no power to save her from—and now she was here, I was left wondering if bringing her back was the right thing.

This girl was not my Ara. She had traces of her, but only half of the heart, and just a scratch of her personality. Maybe it was the fact that she only owned half a soul now—the other half residing in its original owner. Perhaps I was more in love with that part of her than I ever realized, but for the sake of what was, I wanted to give what could be a go. She wasn’t willing to commit to love, and I would love her eternally no matter how much she changed, but I had to accept now that this would be a long and very painful journey. Again.

“It’ll be worth the try.” I tried to smile but my lip trembled. “I promise you that.”

I came home like a battle-worn soldier, welcomed by the embrace of my closest friend.

“I take it things didn’t go so well,” Mike said.

Safe in this place of sanctuary where we’d housed our worries for the past year and a half, I cried. All the hurt that girl rained down on me poured out onto another man’s shoulder.

Hours passed, and we talked at length, sitting in the dark den as the sun came up, but it did nothing to ease my pain. I’d damaged what might have been with Ara, and I couldn’t take it back. There was just nothing more to be said now than, “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“You gotta stop saying that,” Mike said, stretching out the ache of sitting still for so long. “We’re going round in circles here, mate—”

“You didn’t see the look in her eye,” I said. “The pity. The anger. The hurt.”

“I can relate, you know,” he said. “She can be so unintentionally cold when she’s telling you how it really is.”

“No shit.” I sighed, rubbing my face. “It was so hard not to cry in front of her. I fucking hate being human, man.”

“Why didn’t you just cry then?” Mike sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You know Ara—she probably would’ve fallen in love with you right then.”

“Nope.” I shook my head fluidly. “That girl is not my Ara. I didn’t believe Falcon when he said she had half the compassion she used to, but it’s true. She’s different, Mike—too different.”

“Is that because of the soul, do you think?”

I nodded, the muscles in my face loosening with deep thought.

“Do you think you’ll ever love her the same?”

“I’m cursed.” My voice broke. I touched my chest as if the source of my pain resided there. “I’ll love her even if she sleeps with my brother again.”

Mike sat back, face dropping when he realized.

“I’m human now,” I added, “and I never imagined just how…”

“Confining the curse could be?” He finished for me, flashing a curt grin. “Trust me, I know.”

“It’s hard, you know. I gotta wonder if I’d love her the same if I wasn’t cursed.”

Mike thought about it for a moment, pursing his lips. “I think you would. You always loved her—no matter what.”

I nodded.

“And the way I see it,” he added, “if you’re cursed to love her, and she can love you back… the better for it.” He sat back, laying his arm along the top of the sofa. “Suffering the cruelty of a life without her love when you’re under her curse is more than any man can bear—just ask Falcon.”

I nodded at first, remembering then that Falcon’s attraction to my wife had been kept between he and I since the day I first realized it. And I made a promise that it would stay that way, so I tried to play dumb. “He’s never indicated—”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Mike tapped the corner of his eye. “But it takes one to know one, if you know what I mean.”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, I dropped the facade and just went with it. If Mike had figured it out, who was I to deny it any longer? “How does he do it?”

“He is a man of great self-control.”

“He’d have to be—to be caring for her the way he is and not unintentionally use that position to seduce her.”

Mike shook his head. “He’s too good a man for that.”

I nodded. I knew that. I wouldn’t be, on the other hand. Loving her like this—more intensely than I had without the damn curse—I would go to any lengths to win her love in return. And if I were Falcon, I would have seduced her by now. “Fuck this curse, man.”

Mike laughed, sitting forward again. “I have said that many times, my friend.”

“It’s clouding my vision.” I rubbed my eyes. “I can’t think straight.”

“Maybe that’s the lack of sleep. You are human now,” he reminded me.

“Yeah.” I laid back, closing my eyes for a second. “Maybe I should become a vampire again.”

“Why?”

“For one, she clearly prefers vampires to humans.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just hold a conversation with her,” I said. “And two, maybe ditching the damn heartbeat again might break the curse.”

“No. Nope. It won’t.” He propped his hands behind his head, slouching back. “I speak from experience.”

“Yes, but you’re Lilithian—your heart still beats. Maybe without a heartbeat—”

“She’ll still be in your veins, David—in your blood. You will never be rid of the curse.”

I tried to think of an argument, but there wasn’t one. He was right. “Fuck.”

Mike laughed. “I second that sentiment.”