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With a sigh, a slight nod, and a lump forming in my throat, I said, “Okay.”
8
Sampson
Sitting on the side of the bed in my suite the next morning, I felt the sense of loss and emptiness that had been a part of my wardrobe for two decades begin to cloak me again. A longing that was never fulfilled. A gaping, endless hole in my soul and heart that I couldn’t seal no matter how hard I tried.
I spent years studying at the school of immortality, trying to gain knowledge and understanding of myself and the kindred who walked Earth before and with me. I wrestled with this gift, or curse, and which to see it as. I missed Temple, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I ached for her, but it was always in the back of my mind that I had time to get back to her. I had all the time in the world.
But she didn’t.
I now knew that to be clearly evident, and though I’d sought her before only to find she had married another, this time, I wouldn’t back away as I did then. I wouldn’t wait for her to enter a third marriage. I couldn’t. Besides, it seemed my timing was good on this occasion. My revelation to her? Not so much.
Judging from her reaction to my words, my recklessness with her may have cost me her heart…forever.
Eight hours earlier…
“Temple, there’s one more thing I need to tell you before you leave. It’s important,” I said.
I watched her eyes cloud with trepidation as she gave me a little nod and uttered, “Okay.”
“We should sit down, love.”
She shook her head. “I don’t wanna sit down. Just say what you need to say, Sam.”
Biting my lip, I sighed. “Uh…all right. One of the things my parents told me repeatedly that I didn’t understand or believe was that immortals mate for life.”
“Okay, what does that mean?”
“It means…we mate for life, that when we connect with someone in mind, body, and soul, from then on, we belong to each other and only each other. It means that your marriages didn’t work because you belong with me. It means any other woman I’ve ever touched has served as an inadequate surrogate for you because I belong with you. It’s not true of just any union. The woman has to be my soulmate, and I have to be hers. We have to be fated, and evidently, we are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re telling me that you fucking me when we were kids is the reason I haven’t ever had a successful relationship since? That’s why, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fall in love, not even with the men I married? Not really fall in love? Because of you?”
I winced at the venom in her voice. “Because I love you and you love me, Temple.” I was damn near whining.
She stared at me for a moment before punching me in the nose, hard.
“Shit!” I yelled, holding my hand over my nose. I might’ve been immortal, but I could feel pain—both physical and emotional, and right then, I was in agony.
Without another word, she grabbed her purse and left.
Temple
Now…
I was thankful I didn’t have to work last night after my little adventure with Sam. Even now, hours past when I left his hotel room, I was still tired, exhausted from everything I’d experienced, the hours I spent with him in Africa. Shit, I was in Africa with him. I wanted to be confused about that fact, but I could still taste the damn food I ate. I could describe his chambers in detail to minutia. I could still feel the soft cloth of the black robe I wore as it kissed my skin.
I was there.
It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.
But he’d ruined my life. That was factual.
Nevertheless, his divulgence helped me make sense of a lot of things, like how no other man’s touch had ever made me feel like his did. Or how I kept comparing other men’s bedroom performances to that of a kid I gave myself to on his prom night. How I couldn’t love another man even when I convinced myself I could. No one made me feel like he had all those years ago. Sam was my King David, my Michael Jordan, my metric, a master lover other men just couldn’t live up to because it was impossible for them to. They weren’t fucking immortals. Sam had marked me like a dog would a damn tree.
Shit.
