“I want to be strong enough to enjoy it if only for him,” I say, thinking about how stoic and gracious Leo has been after enduring hardship that no living person can even begin to fathom. “He deserves all the happiness in the world, and I’m too selfish to give it to him.”
“Stop, AJ, you’re not selfish.”
I want to take the compliment, but hang the eff on. AJ? Bathroom homegirl knows my name?
“Real love is selfless, you know that,” she goes on. “That’s probably why you found this connection in the first place. It’s likely why you and Leo are here at all. It’s definitely why you should go and cry in his arms and stop sobbing alone in the bathroom. Live in the moment, and enjoy your love.”
The sound of fancy shoes on the bathroom tiles is followed by the swinging open and shut of a door, and thus ends my conversation with a bizarre, helpful, all-knowing stranger. I’m on a boat that’s been absolutely doused in magic, so someone knowing my name isn’t really that weird in the grand scheme of things. After all, tickets to the ball appeared in my hand out of goddamn nowhere. Still, this woman had some pointed things to say. She didn’t feel like your average supernatural party guest.
With tears in my eyes and makeup on my cheeks, I storm out of the bathroom. I’ve got minutes left to be with Leo, and I’m not going to spend any of them out of his sight. Whether I’m crying, laughing, or kissing, I’m going to be inches away from my lover until the universe takes him away.
When I approach the table, he’s already looking at me. There’s a giant pizza, a platter of sushi, and a banana split on the table in front of him, all untouched. He might be full, or it could be that he missed me as much as I missed him and lost his appetite while I was away.
“I can’t believe you left me with all this--”
He can’t get another word out before my lips are on his, my mouth engulfing his, our tongues intertwined, our connection as passionate as one can get while still clothed and in public. I finally release him, moving a few inches back so I can stare into his eyes.
“I can’t believe I left you either. For as long as we have left, I’ll be with you. Touching you. Loving you. Cherishing you.”
His eyes fill with water, but he doesn’t blink the tears away. He keeps looking back at me as though he doesn’t want his eyelids to come between us.
“Thank you for your love, Anna Jane,” he says before kissing me again.
I savor his taste, his scent, his soft touch, and then I whisper back, “thank you for everything.”
I sit on his lap, and he wraps his arms around me, putting our bodies as close as we can while still allowing both parties to enjoy some pizza. We’re both pretty full but taking advantage of the free, delicious cuisine.
A few more drinks, a lot more laughs, and a hundred or so kisses later, we feel the fateful moment arriving. An energetic song with a distinct beat echoes through the dining saloon, and I see people cheer and dance their way out of the room. This is our cue. Time for guests to make their way up to the main deck for the evening’s finale.
“We hope you all found love,” a female voice says, “even if only for a little while.”
The words ring impossibly true, and it’s like she’s speaking directly to me and Leo. One glance at his face lets me know he’s thinking the same thing.
I slide off his lap, and he stands next to me, holding my hands, his torso inches from my own.
“Do we have to?” I ask.
“I’m sure we do,” he says.
I don’t bother holding my tears back, and neither does he. Hand in hand, we walk toward the stairs that will take us up to the main deck, to the evening’s big finish, and to the endless sorrow that will follow.
As my foot hits the first step of the staircase, I freeze, gasping so loudly everyone nearby looks at me with concern.
“What? What’s wrong?” Leo asks, his dark eyes full of fear.
“My pendant,” I respond. “Your pendant.”
That’s all I can say, but he doesn’t need to hear more. He simply looks down at my hand, my palm resting against my chest.
The pendant where Leo lives, my only connection to him once this night ends, is gone.
8
As the band plays a haunting song to usher everyone toward the main deck for the final goodbyes, I go into full-on panic mode. My heart is racing and I feel poisoned by the anxiety and sorrow building in me.
I grab Leo’s hand and pull us against the crowd toward the bathroom I used earlier. “It must have fallen off in the bathroom,” I say, fighting the tears threatening to undo me. “We have to find it.”
He doesn’t argue with me, which is good because I’m on a mission. I blast into the bathroom like a force of nature, not even caring that I’m bringing a guy into the women’s room. It’s empty, and I head straight to the stall I used, searching high and low for my precious pendant. “Check around the sinks,” I say as I continue looking, even going so far as to dunk my hand in the toilet and feel around the bottom in case it got stuck.
No luck. I wash my hands with hot water and so much soap I could swab the deck of the ship with the bubbles that remain. Then I continue scanning every inch of the bathroom, looking in every nook and cranny.
When it’s clear it’s not here, I sink to the ground, my red dress splayed around me like a pool of blood, and I begin to sob.
Leo kneels in front of me and pulls me into his arms, and I cling to him desperately, unwilling and unable to say the goodbyes I know we must make. “We have to find it,” I say. “It’s the only way to be together after tonight.”
But even before he responds, I know what he’s going to say, and I know he’s right. I still don't want to hear it.
“It’s time,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. When I pull back to look at him, tears are staining his own cheeks as well.
“I’m not ready,” I say, hiccuping as I try to stop crying.
“I’ll never be ready to leave you,” he says, “but whatever happens after this ghostly life of mine is over, know this. I will forever be yours. We are bound, heart and soul, and I don’t believe this is the last time we will be together. I’ll be waiting for you, Anna Jane. I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes. But in the meantime, you must promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” I say, meaning it.
“You must allow yourself to find love again. To be happy. Live your life to the fullest. Don’t waste a precious minute of it. Life is too precious to squander living in the land of what-ifs. Live in the land of now.”
“Anything but that,” I say. That’s not the promise I was expecting to have to make, and my heart feels pulverized by his words. “How can I move on from the only real love I’ve ever known?”
He smiles gently at me, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Maybe this--us--was so that you could see just how much you deserve to be loved. So you could discover what it felt like for someone to treat you with care and respect. Now you know what to expect. Now you know what’s possible.”
This just makes me cry more, and I swipe away the tears impatiently. “There has to be something we’re missing. Something we can do.”