Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

whispered, "Yes. It was worth it."
    The sound of fluttering wings filled the room, and then there was only the soft sounds of an apartment at night. The refrigerator kicked on, humming softly through the wall, and the toilet ran for a moment, filling its tank. The air conditioner clicked on, the unit nearly silent as it pumped cool air into the many rooms. Cole rolled over in bed, mumbling softly in his sleep as his hand reached for warmth he missed in his dreams, but the warmth was gone. The sheets were cool, the room empty but for its sole occupant, and even in his sleep, Cole knew something was missing.
    ****
    Cole couldn't help but wince at the way his front door shut behind him. The sound was resolute, like the clang of some prison cell slamming shut, locking him inside. Solitary confinement, that's what it all felt like these days. A wave of loneliness welled up in him as he went through the motions of hanging up his coat and keys, removing his tie, and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt.
    He kicked off his shoes, letting them scatter haphazardly as he tossed his briefcase to the sofa and padded into his bedroom. He paused on the threshold, his eyes wearily scanning the room as they had every day for the last three weeks. "Raziel?" he murmured uncertainly, hoping, praying for some sort of response.
    But there was no answer to his call, no guardian angel perched on his footboard, no smile and bird-like chirp of pleasure waiting for him. Only the silence of his bedroom greeted him. The longer he waited for Raziel to answer, the more the quiet ticking of his wall clock seemed to hammer the harsh reality of his solitude into him. He couldn't stop himself from trying, no matter how much it hurt his heart each day to reach out and find there was nothing left for him to grasp.
    He turned on his heel, unable to stand the sight of his empty bed, which had felt too large to sleep in alone. Back in the living room, he paced for a minute, caught between hurt and anger. What the hell had happened? Raziel had appeared right when he'd needed someone most. Raziel had saved his damn life, told him to have faith and not give up hope, to search for that path away from Daniel that would heal him. In such a short time, the angel had wormed his way into Cole's heart, but the morning after they'd made love, he'd woken up alone, as if the whole thing had been a dream.
    Cole paused in his pacing, glancing back at the hallway that led to his bedroom. Maybe that was it. Maybe the whole thing had been a dream and he'd just been fucked up by the cocaine and hallucinated his guardian angel. It was a painful thing to believe, but the alternative made his chest ache even worse.
    If he hadn't hallucinated the whole thing, then Raziel had lied to him. He'd just started to feel alive again, to feel like he could recover from the heartbreak of losing Daniel. To lose Raziel as well, right on the heels of Daniel, was just too much. He'd tried to stay strong, tried to push back the hurt of waking up alone, and give Raziel a chance to appear or at least make his invisibility known. But the last three weeks of turning his head at every bit of birdsong and hoping in vain had taken their toll.
    There was nothing left for him. Raziel had known him inside and out. Maybe Raziel had finally found something inside him not to love, something that made him worth abandoning. After all, the common denominator of all his problems was him . Maybe he just wasn't worth saving.
    Cole swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat and crossed the living room to his liquor cabinet. It was too easy to pour himself a generous glass of bourbon, far too easy to kick it back and hiss at the burn of it traveling down his throat. He waited for the little voice in his head to appear, for someone to stop him, but there was nothing. No voice, no disapproving twitter and concerned flutter of wings, just silence. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and went to the couch.
    Daniel was gone. Raziel was gone. Everything seemed up in the air, but there was one thing Cole knew for certain: another glass of bourbon would take the pain away. Not forever, but for tonight, and that was as far ahead as he wanted to plan.
    He was halfway through the bottle of bourbon when someone knocked at his door. Cole narrowed his eyes, tried to make the numbers on the clock focus through the haze of alcohol. Ten o'clock? Who would be at his door at ten o'clock at night? He stumbled to his