Page 34 of Forget Me Not (The Shifters of Timberfall #1)
Syve
Gurgling from the coffee pot echoed through the loft as Syve stretched her arms above her head, then threw the sheet off her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
With a mug of coffee securely in her possession, she made a lap of her home, collecting an arm load of things that needed to be put away as she went.
In the kitchen, she collected a few of her mother’s journals that were still lying out.
After shelving the journals in the living room, she ventured to the bathroom, where she caught her reflection and distracted herself with a much-needed shower .
Afterward, she dug out her dusty blow dryer and, for the first time in ages, she blow-dried her hair.
Once she was showered and dressed—in a pale yellow sundress with daisies trailing down one side, pulled from the deep recesses of her closet—she dragged her laundry basket from the hall to the washer.
While separating the clothes from the towels, she tripped over Erhard’s boots.
Syve stared at the boots—still where they had lain for over a year and a half.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, turned back to start the wash, then stooped down to pick up the boots. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she smiled as she hugged the dirty leather footwear.
Ceremoniously, she walked them to the closet, where she nestled them among the sneakers and dress shoes of the same size, and gently closed the closet door.
Clouds darkened the sky and thunder rumbled in the distance as Syve made her way down the alley.
It was a Tuesday, so she waited until lunch to walk to the cemetery. Asking Bastien to join her had crossed her mind, but this visit felt like one she needed to make alone .
This trip was not for her, and it was not for Noah. It was Erhard’s thirtieth birthday.
Passing by the ever-watching Angel statue, she habitually counted her steps, taking the usual thirteen, then two more. On the back of the stone writ with her sons name, another was etched:
E July 16th, 1989 December 5th, 2017 Loyal Husband, Loving Father.
Buried beneath her feet was the box holding his remains. Other than her, only Aimi knew he was there.
Everyone believed he’d intended to be buried on the Gehring farm, but when he died without leaving behind a will and Syve was given the power to keep him close—she did. She was too ashamed of going against his wishes to admit it to anyone—her soul sister excluded.
The left side of the stone was empty—meant for her. One day. A day she suddenly realized she wanted to be far, far in the future.
“ Alles Gute zum Geburtstag .”
She sank down into the grass as she wished him a happy birthday in his first language. Sighing wistfully, she added, “It’s going to rain—just like it does every year for you.”
As if on cue, thunder rumbled again .
She told him about the grant and all the pieces she finished and she told him about how well Aimi was doing with The Glass.
Past a stifled sob, she told him about how well Cameron, Kayla, and her brothers were doing—scoffing when she mentioned the deadbeat husband, Tyler.
Next came the story of Del and her prom dress, and of Soriah—who had lost just as much as Syve had.
Last but not least, she told him about Bastien.
“I met someone.” She cringed, hating how that sounded but unable to call Bas just a friend .
“I think you would’ve liked him—you two would’ve been friends.
He’s patient and thoughtful…he got our boy a birthday present.
” A lone tear dripped down her cheek—or maybe it was a raindrop.
“He’s been really supportive…and incredibly understanding,” she added, tucking away a strand of hair the wind had whipped into her face.
“Erhard. I will always love you.” She sucked in a deep breath.
“But…I think I have a little more love to give in this lifetime.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
“I tried so hard—God knows I tried—to ignore it. He makes me smile, E. Really, truly smile. And I don’t know that I’ve been able to do that since you left me.
He’s just been there. Selflessly. I know he has feelings for me—if he’s been trying to hide them, he’s done a piss-poor job. ”
She hiccupped a laugh and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“I care about him. I want him to succeed, to enjoy life and get everything he dreams of. Most of all, I want to be beside him when he does. I feel like I’m failing you. I’ve felt like I’m dishonoring you, disrespecting you and spitting on your memory.”
She was sobbing now; there was no blaming the rain that had yet to fall.
“I know,” she paused, struggling to swallow the emptiness. “I know you’d want me to be happy. That’s all you ever wanted for me. You’re probably out there somewhere shaking your head because I’ve been so stubborn about this—”
Lightning lit the sky, thunder booming a split second later, and she laughed.
“Point made.”
Eyes down, she toyed with the hem of her shirt.
“I will miss you up to the very day I see you again, but I will try to be happy until then. I’ll make sure to live the full life I know you would wish for me.”
She brought her fingers to her lips, tears slowing as warmth washed over her. Then, parting with a kiss, she pressed her fingers to the granite.
“I’d have to agree with you.”
Syve jumped, a hand flying to rest over her heart. “Jesus Christ, Gunther. You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?”
She took a second to catch her breath, trying to ease the adrenaline rushing through her veins.
Gunther was leaning against a headstone, maybe ten feet away, with his hands in his pockets.
He had one ankle crossed over the other and was looking at her down his nose—one eyebrow raised, and one side of his mouth pulled up in a smug smirk.
It was clear he had been standing there a while.
“I thought I might run into you here.” He pushed off the stone, sauntering over to where she still sat on the ground.
The wind had picked up, the thunder becoming more frequent. Lightning flashed over the trees again, illuminating Gunther’s silhouette as he now hovered over her.
Scrambling to get her feet under her, Syve stood, retreating in an effort to put more space between them and finding herself now backed against her Husband and Son’s headstone.
“Happy Birthday, Cuz.” He leaned down, throwing the phrase around her as if the words were insignificant. When his attention returned to her, he added, “My dear cousin always did prioritize your happiness.”
“Is there a reason for you being creepy and eavesdropping today, Gunther?” Syve asked, crossing her arms in front of her. “Or, is that just your personality?”
“Creepy? Come on doll, you’re going to hurt my feelings.” He reached up, slipping a finger around a loose strand of her hair and tugging.
She swatted his hand away.
“I didn’t realize that was possible. How did you know I would be here? ”
“You think you could bury my own flesh and blood without me knowing where?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension.
Syve fought the urge to cringe. “My lunch break is over; I need to get back to work.”
“I’m sure your boss wouldn’t mind if you were a few minutes late.”
“Goodbye, Gunther.” She stepped around him, walking backward, not wanting to turn her back to him just yet.
“Alright then, Doll. See ya later.” He winked, and she turned away to hide her look of disgust.
Torrents of rain began to descend from the sky as she jogged through the cemetery’s iron gates.