Juliet Immortal

the truth about who and what she is, about what
I
am. I hate the Ambassadors for trapping me with my own compassion, for forcing me to work for the good of humanity even when humanity seems the furthest thing from good. I hate that I’ve spent so many years fighting for love when my own love was stolen away. So brief and then gone, never to have a second chance.
    Most of all, I hate the hope that continues to spring to life inside me only to die again and again, as if I haven’t lived through enough misery to know that hope is for fools.
    Tears and more tears, enough to fill the world, rush down my face, making it feel like the rain is still falling, though it hasstopped for a moment, leaving the air cold and lonely. I try to pull myself up, but I can’t, can’t find my way through rage and despair to something good enough to get me to my feet.
    And then he’s there behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to him, my back tight to his chest. “It’s okay,” he says, holding me when I try to move away. “It’s okay.”
    “It’s not okay,” I sob. “It will never be okay.”
    “It is. You’re tough, remember?”
    “I’m not.”
    “You are. You stood up to him. You’re strong.”
    I shake my head. I’m not. I’m weak and selfish. I hate and I covet and I’m far too aware of Ben’s skin on mine, of the way his arms circle my waist, the way his warmth surrounds me, banishing the chill. I want him to be mine. I want to know that I belong here with him, that the arms I cling to will never let me go.
    “You are,” he whispers, propping his chin on my shoulder, as if being close to me is the most natural thing in the world. “It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”
    A strained sound—half laugh, half sob—bursts from my throat. My fears have been confirmed, but a part of me wants to weep with relief. He thinks he loves me; he said the words. Even though I know they aren’t true, they are still precious. “You can’t love me.” I do my best to keep the regret from my voice. “You love Gemma.”
    “I don’t love Gemma. I
have
never, and
will
never love Gemma,” he says, mimicking the words I said to Romeo less than an hour ago, right down to the stubborn refusal in his tone. “I love you.”
    “You don’t even know me.”
    “I know you,” he says, with a quiet assurance that threatens to make my tears start all over again. “I know you’re strong and as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. I know you like to eat and hate Shakespeare—at least the love stories—and would do anything for a friend. I know you’re an artist, and you made a wall of bricks look like it should be hanging in a museum. I know you’ve been through hell, but you didn’t let it eat you up inside.” He pauses, hugs me a little closer. “And I know you make me think the hell I’ve been through was worth it … if it’s what made me recognize heaven when it jumped into my car.”
    My throat squeezes so tight I can scarcely breathe. Everything he’s said—almost all of it—is about me, the real me, the soul inside this body. Ben
sees
me. He knows me. Is there even a chance …
    No, there isn’t. I’ve had my chance. One soul mate, one chance, and that’s the end of it. I wasn’t summoned into this time for myself. I was summoned because Gemma and Ben are soul mates—the color in their auras confirms it beyond a shadow of doubt.
    “No,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. “You may think … But you don’t. Not really.”
    “I
know
what I feel. But if you don’t feel the same way …” The pain in his voice makes the tears run again. I can’t stand the thought of hurting him any more than I have, but there’s no other choice. He has to forget me.
    “I don’t.”
    “You’re lying,” he whispers. “Just like you lied yesterday when you kissed that asshole. You didn’t want to touch him; I could tell. You were doing it for Gemma, weren’t you?”
    “
She’s
the one you’re supposed to be with.”
    “How the hell do you figure that?” he asks, anger creeping into his voice. “She was
never
even my girlfriend. Sure, we made out
one time
at one of her family’s barns near my house, but it didn’t feel right. And it didn’t go any further than kissing. I swear to you. Even before I met you, I knew Gemma and I were going to end up being just friends, and maybe not even friends. She’s a
lunatica
, and she’s definitely not my soul