I pause, my finger hovering over a red candy I was getting ready to switch with a blue. Shit… I need a will. I own property—the house and the coffee shop—and without Fallon to inherit it, I have no clue what would happen if I died without an estate plan.
The sudden thrill I feel at the idea of needing to see an attorney to create a will is sad, but at least it’s something to do that’s important.
“Are you as bored as I am?” Zaid asks as he walks in from the general direction of the kitchen, which is his domain.
I’ve learned more about Zaid over these last few weeks that Carrick has been gone than I have in the almost three months I’ve known him. I used to think he was Carrick’s servant since he was always cooking and doing other odd jobs.
Turns out, he’s not a servant at all. Rather, he’s just a loyal friend who happens to love being in the kitchen.
He’s also smart, crafty, and overly pigheaded about some things.
Most of all, I consider him a friend now, and I think he feels the same about me.
“So bored,” I reply as I exit out of my game. I sit up on the couch, settling against the cushions and crossing my legs Indian-style. Zaid plops in a chair on the other side of the coffee table.
As usual, he’s dressed all in black and looks perpetually pissed off and disdainful. I’ve realized, though, Zaid just has a resting bitch face that doesn’t necessarily match his mood. Although, granted… he is grumpy a lot.
Without Carrick around, he seems as lost as I do, and dare I say we’ve bonded since Rune took Carrick. Since then, we’ve talked about a lot of things. I’ve gingerly poked into his background, particularly where Boral’s concerned. In turn, Zaid tried to get me to open up about Carrick, but that’s been a difficult feat to achieve since I don’t even know how I feel about him.
Because he’s gone and I’m completely in the dark, which is a horrible place to be.
“Who takes care of Carrick’s businesses when he’s gone like this?” I query out of the blue, something I wondered but had been afraid to know the answer to. Why I have the guts to ask it now is beyond me.
Maybe it’s the boredom.
Zaid shrugs. “Each company has presidents and vice presidents, and they’re all fully capable of handling matters. I assume he’s passing on instructions to them.”
And there it is. The real reason I’ve avoided this particular question because I knew the answer would infuriate me.
I can’t help but sound petulant. “He has time to reach out to his businesses but not to me?”
“It’s not like that, Finley,” Zaid chastises. “If Carrick hasn’t reached out to us, it’s for a good reason. Trust me on that.”
“Trust you on that?” I ask incredulously.
“I know Carrick, so—”
“See, that’s just it,” I snap harshly, throwing my hands out to the side in frustration. “I don’t know him. Apparently, I’ve fallen in love with him over and over again throughout history, yet I don’t know a damn thing about him. You might trust him, but don’t ask me to.”
“You’re angry,” Zaid says dismissively. “I get it.”
“You get it?” I reply with a frown. I’m confused why he’s not defending Carrick more.
“I get it.”
We commence a staring match, but I resolutely refuse to continue with my rant. Zaid said he gets me, so why bother?
“Do you want to talk about what happened on the patio that night?” Zaid asks cautiously, his voice soft and conciliatory. I almost want to laugh because it’s so… anti-Zaid.
We haven’t talked a lot about what happened. Zaid found me on the patio, completely freaked out, and I became a sobbing mess. He held me in his arms while I got it out of my system.
He then led me inside, made me tea, and asked what happened. I didn’t have it in me to tell him anything but the very basics.
I was the reincarnated love of Carrick’s life, and Rune stole him away.
That was the nutshell of it, and Zaid didn’t push for details. He had merely said, “I’m glad Carrick finally told you.”
Which meant Zaid knew all about mine and Carrick’s history. I assume his brothers do, too.
To address Zaid’s question now, no… I don’t want to talk about what happened on the patio because I have never been deluged with such a myriad of gut-wrenching emotions as I had when I learned about my history, and I didn’t feel like facing them again.
But I do have curiosities.
I can’t help it.
“I’ve read some of Carrick’s journals,” I say hesitantly, my gaze going to my clasped hands. “They don’t mention me that I can tell.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Zaid says without any apology for his friend. My head pops up so I can see him, and his expression turns empathetic. Not a hard thing for Zaid as he is part empath. “Carrick would never write about you because he didn’t want anyone knowing about you. He didn’t want any of his enemies to know about your existence in case it put you in danger. It was bad enough Rune had cursed you to die early and reincarnate. Carrick didn’t want to make it worse on you.”
“Oh,” I whisper, something flickering warmly in my heart for the first time in two weeks. It’s been so easy just to believe Carrick has abandoned me. Plus, after he basically told me I was the absolute love of his life, to find he had never once written about me in his journals that covered the time we had together had me feeling such a disconnect from him.
“I have stories I can tell you,” he offers. “I was with Carrick from the beginning of your story together. I can help with any questions—”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish his generous offer. Zaid isn’t the type to sit around and tell stories. He’s always on the go with something to do, although I haven’t quite figured out what exactly he does for Carrick other than handle the cooking. He has better things to do than give me a history lesson about… well… me.
More than that, though, I don’t want anything tying me deeper to Carrick right now. My heart is already so shredded by what I’ve learned and then having him snatched away from me…
I’m feeling very overwhelmed right now.
“If you’re interested,” Zaid continues, despite the fact I’m shaking my head. “You can see all of your past lives.”
My eyes about bug out of my head. “What?”
He nods. “Everyone’s life is recorded and kept in memory crystals.”
I’m stunned speechless. Like… who would record such things, how time-consuming would that be, and why on earth would that be important to begin with?
Perhaps because he’s an empath, or maybe he can read my mind, he launches into an explanation. “I can tell by your expression that you’re wondering why someone would bother doing this, but why not? The gods have infinite magic at their disposal, but, more importantly, they have an army of demi-gods at their service. Many are created just to record history, which includes individual histories. But it’s more than just the events themselves—it’s from the people it happened to and their personal points of view, so you get feelings and emotions from watching them.”