There are some things that were said between myself and Freya which I will not repeat. They are for us alone, and she has asked that they stay that way. I am happy to keep them private for her.
I did not go to her last night, knowing what I knew and that she knew that I knew. What a tangle all of this can be! There is so much uncertainty and fear when a relationship changes. I have a new sympathy for every person I ever pressed to take this step.
In the end it was just hard to be away from her for so long. It felt almost painful, letting the distance stretch between us. And so early this morning I visited her, and the moment I arrived she woke and turned her face to me.
At the worry in her gaze, my heart softened with all the tenderness I have ever felt for her. “If you do not want to discuss it,” I murmured to her, “we need not.”
She sighed, and then she sat up and rubbed her face. “Give me a few minutes,” she said, and she left the bed and went into the bathroom.
I waited through her morning ablutions. By now I am familiar with her routine—washing her face, brushing her teeth, combing out her hair. I have even kept her company through them sometimes. But now it felt too invasive, too intimate.
When she came back into the room and settled at the foot of the bed, I stood back against the wall. I could feel in her and in myself a need for space.
“Did you really agree to let Therai show me her memory?” I asked her, when she did not immediately speak.
She nodded. “I figured this conversation would be easier if you knew something of what you were getting into first.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “So much for that theory.”
“Take your time,” I said. Then, because I thought it would comfort her, I added, “This is difficult for me, too, Freya.”
She shivered a little when I spoke her name. But then she summoned all the fire in her and looked up into my eyes.
“You aren’t secretive about loving me, Ace. You’ve said it over and over, and you’ve shown it. You’ve loved me for way longer than I even knew you existed, and you’ve loved me without hope of any kind of return. You learned everything about my faults and my struggles in life, and you loved me anyway, and you’ve loved me through all my relationships with other people, without selfishness, without pain. You’re the only reason I know what love really is.”
There was water standing in her eyes, but she spoke steadily. I listened and I was so proud of her.
“But I don’t love you just because of what you’ve done for me,” she went on, “even though that would be more than enough. I love you because of who you are. I love your selflessness and your courage, and I love your wisdom, and I love your protectiveness, and I love that all of that is not just for me, but for everyone whether you know them or not. I love how clueless you can be about human things. And I love the peace that you have with everything, that even while you’re hunted by someone you once loved, you have faith in the goodness of the world.”
Of all the beautiful things in the world, there is nothing so lovely as having someone you love say good, true things of you.
Freya ducked her head then, and her voice finally cracked. “Ace, you’re the reason I believe in God, and I think you’re the best thing he ever made.”
In that moment my heart was a song.
She took a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. “I know there’s so many different kinds of love,” she said, “and whatever you give me is enough, I promise. But I need you to understand that even though it may be wrong—”
I’d resolved to let her finish before I spoke, but this I couldn’t abide. “Nothing between us could be wrong, Freya.”
“Unwise, then,” she said with a ghostly smile. “I heard everything Kara was saying, and she’s right to be worried. Because Ace, as long as you are in my life, there will be no one else for me.”
The song stopped short. Still I waited, and the moment stretched out into eternity. I truly did not know what she would say next.
She exhaled, long and slow. “Even so,” she whispered, “I don’t ever want you to leave. Not ever.”
And the song began again.
I drew closer to her, falling to my knees before her, and closed her in my wings where she belonged. “Then I will not,” I whispered to her. “Not ever.”
She broke into great gasping sobs and reached out to me, but as ever her fingers passed through. I have never been so aware of her, nor of my own intangibility. Her sobs became louder, carrying more than just relief, falling away from all that could be between us and into all that could not. For that, I wept with her.
In time, she asked me hoarsely, “They won’t try to take you away from me?”
“If you do not will it so, they cannot,” I told her. “We are tied too closely now. Salathiel and Anteros both knew it when they came to propose our new training. Nothing Heaven can do will separate us now.”
Her red eyes stretched wide. “Then what would happen to you if I ever did send you away?”
“I would go,” I said, “but I would be severely weakened, for much of my power is invested in you.”
I did not tell her of the pain it would cause me. I will not let guilt be the reason she keeps me by her side.
Her brow lowered. “Salathiel knew this was permanent for you and she didn’t say anything?”
“She said there would be risks. And in the end it was my choice, and I chose you. As I always will.” I smiled at her, hoping she could see how very much peace I feel with that decision.
She still scowled, and I knew she would be speaking to Salathiel about this the next time we have training. Again her hand reached out as if to brush my shoulder, and her fingers drifted through my chest. Her indignation softened to wistfulness.
“Is it permanent for me?” she asked.
“Not in the same way. You have chosen now to bind yourself to me, but you may free yourself from this bond whenever you wish.” I reached up to rest my hand against her face, and she closed her eyes and imagined that she felt it. “Freya, I promise you, I will be here just as long as you want me, and not a day more.”
“I’ll always want you,” she whispered.
The morning sunlight was glimmering on the wall, the upper corners sharp where the window cut it off. The gently shifting shadows from the tree just outside were almost bronzed by the golden gleam.
“You don’t believe me?” Freya asked.
“Of course I do,” I said. “But always is different to a human than it is to an angel. And you must know that I will not hold you to that.”
She stiffened, pulling away from my hand, but I extended both arms, holding her with my gaze. “I mean it, Freya. If the shadows between us ever weigh on you more heavily than the light, if there is more pain than joy in our connection, then you may go find something better for you, and I will be happy for you.”
She could see the truth in my eyes, but somehow she was unsatisfied with that answer. She pushed up from the bed and sprang out of the gap between my wings, pacing across the room. It was a moment before she turned back. “I told you how I felt,” she said. “I told you that I can’t let go of you. I don’t want to hear how glad you’d be for me if I found someone else. Can’t you be a little human for just a second? A little bit selfish? Or do you really just love me the same way you love everyone else, and I just happen to be the one who stuck around the longest?”
The words, and more the doubt in them, cut at me. I considered her for a long moment, trying to think of how to explain my heart to her.
Finally I said, “There is no such thing as soulmates, Freya, not as humans understand them.”
She wilted a little, but I held up a hand, refusing to allow her to misunderstand. “Let me explain. As a Cupid, I was able to measure the likelihood that any two people would be happy together. Most have many possibilities, some with better chances than others. Others are drawn to one person, and it takes little to no intervention to make things work between them. But all love depends on what each person needs, be it warmth, or comfort and contentment, or passion. And those needs will nearly always change as time goes by. Some loves will change with them, and sometimes the love comes to an end, and it is good to step away from it.
“It is rare that we see a love that you would call true. A love that refuses to accept diminishment, that cuts off any possibility of another to take their place, a love that chooses to tie one’s soul to forever. But I know that love now, Freya. That is the love that I have for you. And whatever you choose, whatever you become, whether I am angel or human or saint, there will be no one else for me. You are my soul’s mate, and my forever is yours, whether it lasts a day or a thousand years.”
She ran at me then, and her arms swept through me, and she collapsed at the foot of the bed, burying her face in her arms. I closed my eyes against her pain, her longing, her gladness, stronger than I had ever felt them. And I knelt behind her, closer than I ever had before, letting the boundaries of me cross the boundaries of her. It was not enough, but it was comforting.
It was good that I had woken her so early, for we had much more to say, but I have come to the end of what I may rightly share. I have only given so much because I want my brothers and sisters to understand. I know how this may hurt her, to have a love she cannot touch, cannot share with the world, cannot share a life with. I know how this may hurt me, if ever her heart changes. I accept those risks, and so does she. What we cannot accept is to be taken from one another in any way. I will not pretend that she is less to me than she is.
Perhaps it is cliché to say that I was made to love Freya, but I truly believe it. I am a gift to her from God, and I am glad that this is my reason for existence. With her, with her love, I will do great and wonderful things.