The Sky We Seek (Love and Other Dreams #2)

Chapter 26

Noah

It's raining blood.

I stretch out my hands. Viscous drops pelt on my fingers, leaving deep red trails on my joints and seeping into every crevice of my skin.

Where am I?

My bare feet touch blades of grass. They are damp and cold. The scent of incense surrounds me. And I hear whispers. I don't understand what the people are saying; I only hear hissing sounds and uneasy clearing of throats.

" In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit ," resounds a deep male voice, singing and speaking at the same time.

Silence.

" Amen ," replies the choir.

I flinch, and suddenly, I can see it.

Right in front of me.

A tombstone. It glistens even though the sun isn't shining.

No! Please, not here.

Someone presses a flower into my hand. Eyes as light gray as November mist stare at me accusingly.

"I'm sorry." Yes, that's the truth. I'm sorry.

It's not enough , say the misty eyes.

" Not enough, not enough, not enough ," sings the choir that I can't even see. Someone shoves me. I stumble forward. My feet land in a puddle.

A pool of blood, with more blood dripping from the sky with every passing second.

" Look, coward. Look at what you've done. "

I can't. It's impossible. Something hard and cold presses against the back of my neck. It forces me forward, and I can't resist. My knee crashes against the stone, and I sink to the ground.

" Look, coward. Look at what you've done. "

No!

My fingers touch the stone, tracing the engraved inscription.

There's the J, then the U.

A thunderous roar runs through my body. "Julian," I utter, my eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible.

But it's as if my eyelids are transparent. And my eyes stare at the stone, hypnotized.

05.09.1992 - 05.09.2021

"I'm sorry." My words are no more than a whimper. I bury my hands in the soggy earth, feeling its penetrating coldness and catching the metallic scent of blood that clings to it.

" Look, coward. Look at what you've done ," the chorus taunts me.

I lift my eyelids.

There is another name.

Elina.

Immediately, I realize it's also my fault.

All my muscles tense. "No!" I shout with all my strength. Suddenly, darkness surrounds me. The rain has stopped, but my forehead is still damp.

I reach for the moisture .

No blood. Sweat.

And my surroundings?

Not a cemetery. My bed.

Gasping, I sit up.

"A nightmare. It was just a nightmare," I repeat to myself over and over again, but it can't diminish the memory of the horrifying images that the night painted in my mind.

More than eight months have passed since Julian's burial last autumn. Not once have I dreamed of him.

Why now, all of a sudden?

I turn on the night-light to ground myself, and then it comes back to me.

Elina.

Her name was also on the gravestone, and I know exactly what my subconscious is trying to tell me.

She will go back to Vienna to pursue her dream.

In my mind, I see her. Her sunny smile, her radiant eyes. The way she looks at me and the strength with which she fights for me. I feel the home I find in her presence and my own helplessness to resist it whenever I'm with her.

Desperately, I run my hands through my hair. Because one thing I know for sure: even though I don't really have the right to ever be happy again, there is a longing within me that I cannot ignore.

I can't lose her either.

But won't I lose her anyway, especially when she learns the truth about Julian?

No. She mustn't. The past is at rest. Within me and within everyone else who knows about it.

For months now, no one has talked about it, not even myself. It doesn't make sense to bring up what happened. It would serve no purpose. Not even for Elina.

Hanna says I am stronger than the ghosts of my past. She is right. What happened must remain locked away because nobody knows the whole truth. Not even myself.

Despite my tiredness, I peel myself out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom. Afterward, I gather everything needed for breakfast, for the rendezvous I have with Elina today, and load it into my car.

An hour early, I stand in front of Elina's cottage and knock softly. Hopefully, she's already awake. The handles of the tote bag press against the scar on my shoulder. The thought of facing Elina soon quickens my breath.

There's no movement inside the cottage, so I knock again.

"Yeees," I suddenly hear someone grumble, followed by shuffling footsteps. The key turns noisily in the lock, and a moment later, an adorable, disheveled Elina stands before me. Her blond hair is tousled, and she yawns with half-open eyes. In her hand, she holds a steaming cup of coffee. "What's up?" she mumbles, still half-dreaming.

"Did someone order breakfast?" I tap the bag under my arm demonstratively and try to read something from her expression. Something that gives me a hint of what she truly feels for me.

With effort, she finally lifts her eyelids. As if she's just realizing who's standing in front of her, she quickly covers her face with her hands. "Noah!" She takes a step toward me and kisses my cheek. As she turns away, I can just catch her uncertain expression before she disappears into the house. "I'll freshen up real quick."

Why? She looks enchanting without any makeup. Much better than with that gunk on her face, to be honest. "To me, you're always beautiful," I call after her.

She pauses in her steps, slowly turning to face me. Her disbelieving gaze meets mine, then her expression softens. "You're unique," she says in a tone that sends shivers down my spine.

She's in love with me. Undoubtedly.

But is that enough?

I'm instantly by her side, pulling her into my arms. "I've missed you," I manage to say before our lips meet. She nestles against me like a cat, giving me a feeling of warmth and security that I wish to feel every moment.

"And I've missed you even more," she murmurs between two kisses. She gently strokes my back. I let the bag fall to the ground and lose myself with her in the sea of emotions flooding my insides.

So warm. So beautiful.

Suddenly, I hear her stomach growl loudly. Laughing, I release her. "Now, let's have breakfast," I say as I make my way to the kitchenette with my bag.

I unpack the homemade spreads and the bread along with the hard-boiled eggs and cheese. There's also jam, grapes, and a few freshly picked strawberries I just swiped from Hanna's garden.

"Is all this for me?" Elina presses close to my side.

I place a napkin in the wicker basket and fill it with bread. "And so much more."

Hardly have the words left my mouth when she kisses me exuberantly. As we part, she raises her eyebrows meaningfully. "Mmm, I like that," she teases, her tongue grazing her lower lip.

Suddenly, she looks at me with a start. It's as if something just dawned on her, something she momentarily forgot. Swiftly, she averts her gaze and opens the cutlery drawer. Was she also thinking about the fact that she's already about to leave me? Swallowing hard, I reach for the spreads. On my way to the small dining table in the corner of the living room, I do everything I can to distract myself.

"Have you put together the results of the sleep study yet?" I ask, trying to shift the focus.

"I have," she sounds remorseful. I turn to face her and see her slumping shoulders as she reaches for the cheese plate.

"And? Did you find anything?" I ask, knowing how much this topic captivates her.

She places the plate on the table with a clatter. "Nope." Her pleading gaze meets mine. "Except for a missing REM phase during falling asleep, which I might have simply overlooked, there are no significant abnormalities. Nothing at all. I checked the values twice and thrice."

So it's cancer after all.

I remain frozen in place. "And now?"

She takes a step toward me, wearing her determined doctor face. "I'm thinking of something. Don't worry, we'll figure out what's wrong with you. I promise!"

Reluctantly, I nod. "If anyone can do it, it's you."

Although she acted strangely earlier, she lovingly wraps her arms around me now. "Nothing is ever lost as long as we don't give up on it," she says, sounding so confident that I suddenly feel the same way .

Gently, I return her embrace. "What would I do without you?" I ask, and at the next moment, I feel a painful pang in my chest.

"The same as I would without you." She holds me tightly, and that alone ignites hope within me that everything can still turn out fine in the end. But how could she stay here with me, giving up her greatest dream? And how could I ever live with the guilt of taking that away from her?

I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't be standing here, hugging her, knowing that I have to let her go. Yet here I am. And I hold her tightly. Because I simply can't do otherwise.