Playing with Forever

Chapter 34: The Stone

Two months after Sam and I had gotten together, I'd never had so many weeks spent feeling content and happy. The time we spent together was so wonderful and I ended each day craving even more when we separated.

It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. I still fought against my trauma, and kept Sam's physical affection at bay at times. He was patient, not pushing me past my constantly shifting boundaries, but made sure I knew just how much he wanted me. He made our physical affection count, taking advantage of the innocent touches that my trauma let me have fear-free. He was becoming an expert in tracing delicate lines on my skin that had affection pooling in my chest and sent the butterflies inside me aflutter.

However, the simple bliss of being together changed with one conversation.

"Abigail, I need to tell you something. Something important," Sam told me one night as we soaked in the cool night air in his backyard. A quilt was spread beneath us and a thermos of hot chocolate was on standby. Despite the chill, I was warm snuggled up beside him, my hand cradled in his.

"Hm?" I asked with a content smile.

"On Halloween, when I was explaining everything about immortality to you," he said, "I mentioned that immortals have a complicated way of falling in love."

My innocent contentment stuttered in my chest. I had forgotten about that. It couldn't be good. I tried not to jump to conclusions, but they were flooding my mind. "Oh."

"I need to explain it to you now," Sam said.

Anxiety shot through my stomach, and I put my hand there, trying to calm it. We had been lying on our backs on the ground star gazing, but he sat up and leaned over me, gaze intense and concerned. He paused for a moment, and I couldn't help but think he was stalling.

This was bad, so bad.

He finally continued in a slow, hesitant tone. "Love is a one-time deal for immortals."

Useless.

Of course. This, what Sam and I shared, was too good to be true. I never deserved something as pure and good as what Sam gave me.

Unlovable.

"You had Eleanor," I whispered.

 "No, Abigail—that is not what I am trying to tell you," he said. "Just listen, alright?"

My heart wanted to lighten, but I couldn't let it hope. "Okay."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "For Immortals, soulmates exist. Part of being immortal means you find the one person whose soul fits perfectly with yours."

So this was it. This was when he told me I was not his soulmate. I was nothing more than a distraction for his present. Of course I'd never be the real deal to Sam. I wasn't endgame material. I knew that, I'd always known that. I was stupid for assuming Sam knew what he was saying when he told me he loved me.

Well, he knew now.

"We all have a stone," he went on quietly. "Every immortal has a stone we've collected from the bank of the stream of eternal water. When you meet your soulmate, the one person you are destined for, their name etches itself into the stone."

He reached into his pocket and I knew what he was pulling out. He placed it inside my palm: his stone, with another's name written across it. "I don't want to see it," I breathed, desperately holding back the sob that wanted to break free from my chest.