Panchali slid off her cushion and moved closer to Michael’s, eager to be near him after his seemingly endless absence. Then she noticed his frown.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t your show go well?”
He shrugged. “I sold nine paintings.”
He looked so sad. She yearned to take his hand, brush the hair from his face, and hold him in her arms. She did none of those things because that wasn’t what he wanted from her. “What’s going on?”
“You’re the psychic. You tell me.”
“Okay.” She assumed her best gypsy demeanor. “You’ve fallen in love with a gorgeous Brazilian maiden.”
He snorted.
“You’ve fallen in love with a gorgeous Brazilian man?”
He sighed. “She’s married.”
The words smacked the joy out of her heart.
“You look shocked. Didn’t you think I was capable of falling in love?”
She shook her head and stalled for time. She had been out of her meditative state for all of thirty seconds and already her serenity was shot to hell. She needed a moment to calm her mind. This was dangerous territory. One careless word could undo three years of careful avoidance.
She and Michael shared an artist’s perspective, an introvert’s need for seclusion, and a history of spirit intervention—although Michael wouldn’t have described it this way. There was so much she loved about him aside from being ridiculously handsome. Why wouldn’t she be attracted to him? At first, she had hoped he might feel the same about her. Stories had been shared, hearts opened, and a kiss nearly exchanged before she ruined it by offering to channel her spirits to reconnect Michael to his own. After an hour spent telling her about his fears, she had volunteered to awaken them.
“Of course I think you’re capable of love. But in the three years I’ve been living here, you’ve gone on what…half dozen dates? I just didn’t expect it.”
It was more than that: As long as Michael remained emotionally immune to the effects of all women, Panchali didn’t have to take his rejection personally. Now that another woman had broken through his barriers, she’d have to face the truth.
Michael groaned. “It happened at the gallery show. I had spent the whole evening trying to get away from people, but when I saw her, standing in front of my painting like she was a part of it, all I wanted to do was crawl inside of her, feel her heart beating against mine. Does that sound crazy?”
“No.” It was exactly how Panchali had felt when she had first walked into the atrium and met Michael. The sense of familiarity had been so clear she had almost told him how good it was to see him again, but she couldn’t afford to lose an awesome rental by implying she had known her landlord in another life. On that day, she kept her reincarnation ideas to herself. On this day, she felt secure enough in their friendship to risk it. “She might be a soul mate.”
“Then how could I have lost her?”
Panchali shrugged. “We don’t always get to be with the ones we love. Soul mates can make appearances in our lives to fulfill roles and lead us to lessons. They don’t necessarily stay. Sometimes other karmic issues are more important.”
Was she speaking for his benefit or hers?
She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Soul mates find us again, eventually. A past lover becomes a mentor. An enemy becomes a family member. Who knows? Maybe some connections are too significant to be confined to one lifetime or one relationship. Or maybe we just need a lot of lives to learn what we need to learn.”
Michael grimaced. “I know you believe in all this past life stuff, but all I know is that I met a gorgeous woman who touched my heart and turned my life upside down. Now she’s gone, and I have to fill a hole I never even knew existed.”
Panchali nodded. They both had work to do, but not now. Now, they needed camaraderie and comfort food.
She stood up and offered him her hand. “Come on, Romeo, I’ll fix you a nice lentil loaf.”
When Michael placed his hand in hers, she smiled and reminded herself not to cling.