Page 138 of Inked in Bloom
I step off mybike, combing through my wind-swept strands. “It really did.”
It’s the end of our first spring as mated Blooms and partners in crime.
We trudge across the grass, bootprints weaving between pale-pink and rich-lavender foxgloves sprouting up from the soil. Cherri finds the spot first and waves wildly for me to come over.
I inhale and stare out at the watercolor sky with puffy clouds.
“Are you ready?” she asks, and I hear the part she doesn’t say…Are you readyto leave?
This time last year, I was plotting how to stay, desperate for a loophole to hold on to my mortal life and the people in it. I’d be lying if I said there aren’t moments I still ache for a reality that no longer exists. Healing is pretty on paper but messy in practice, and I remain an eternal work in progress.
I recall the Ever Briar and the first time its petals were depicted in strokes of paint smeared across a canvas of newspaper clippings, my mate’s reach extending farbeyond his ephemeral mortality. Briar didn’t recognize the seeds he’d planted at first and neither had I.
If immortality has taught me anything, it’s that we don’t always witness our impact, but the seeds we plant still grow long after we’re gone.
My legacy is far from over, and I’ve still got more tending to do.
Cherri takes my hand and squeezes. “We can stay longer… I’m sure our mates will survive a few more hours without us.”
My friend has the patience of a saint. I’m starting to understand why Fate paired her with Dani. She reminds me so much of Charlotte, never quick to judge, brimming with love, and a light shining on everyone around her. Yes, there were people in my life after Charlotte’s passing who loved me, there’s no doubt in my mind about that, but I’d fixated on what I could offer them. What I could do or achieve to earn their love. I never considered the blessings they gave unconditionally in return.
I’d lived my life for everyone else. Part of me would probably always feel the need to fix things for the people I cared about. But through a seemingly impossible love, I was learning how to live for myself.
“No, it’s time to head back.” I squeeze her hand in return. “Our work here is done.”
Her smile grows wide. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Palms clutching our sternums, we both close our eyes and think ofhome.
Dragged through the veil,I stagger forward, still clumsy traveling between worlds. Before I open my eyes, I’m knocked off balance, gripped by three giggling sprouts. I trip over my feet to the joyful chorus of “Mommy!”
Lilliana’s little body vibrates with excitement. “We missed you so much!”
Millie shouts over her twin. “I missed her most.”
“It’s not a competition, Millie,” Taylor says, rolling her eyes.
Briar’s rich chuckle comes from behind me. His mere proximity is like a magnet. I spent months trying to resist its pull, but I’ll always be drawn to him. Taylor helps me up, and I turn to find him with Juniper attached to his hip. Her tiny fingers reach out, and a moment later, she’s bounding out of his arms and into mine.
“Hey, Juni B. You been keeping your dad in line?” I give her a conspiratorial wink.
“Always.” She giggles, nuzzling my nose with her own.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out her Snickers, along with two bags of Skittles and a Fun Dip for the other three. They squeal, taking their treats and hopping up and down.
Briar and I watch them tear into the wrappers. “Impressive haul.”
“Thanks, learned from the best,” I tease, my huffed-out laugh transforming into a long, full-body yawn.
“We ought to be getting your mommy home. I know you girls had something you wanted to show her before her rejuvenation,” Briar says, tone tender and firm.
They cast each other mischievous glances, and Taylor mimics zipping her lips before any of the others say anything more.
“What’s that all about?” I ask my mate.
“Oh, you’ll see.” Briar rests his forehead against mine, the tips of our noses touching as he whispers, “Welcome home, my love.”
“Glad to be back.” I pull him in for a kiss.
