A vampire named Citlali receives an email from an old lover who broke her heart centuries ago. The message says the immortal is dead and she left a key for Citlali in a bank in New York. But the same message had been sent to two other persons whose...
Alone in the house, I thought it could be an opportunity to read the most recent diary we had found. My goal, of course, was to see if I could find something about myself.
But the moment I crossed the office's threshold, I froze. I was so nervous. I stepped back and, after excruciating minutes of tension and immobility, I surrendered and went back downstairs.
I walked through the kitchen, and the living room, which seemed like safe places in their neutrality. I looked for some tea in the cupboards. When I found a decorative metal box, I opened it. It was loose tea indeed. But the smell of it felt like a shock. I had forgotten about this scent. Now that I experienced it again, it came back to me, though. It was Ameyal's favorite, an earl grey with a touch of lavender.
And the memories should have made the situation even more difficult, but actually, it was as if Ameyal was putting her hand on my shoulder, saying that everything would be okay. I took a deep breath, warmed the water in the kettle, and, the mug in my hand, I climbed the stairs to the second floor again.
This time, I entered the office, I took the diary, and I went to the sitting room to read it.
It didn't take me too long to find what I was looking for. It was an entry near the end of the notebook, written six years ago.
Kai offered me a gift, this wonderful sculpture. And I saw it in her eyes: she wants more. More than the casual sex we have every time we meet. And I can't give that to her. She's so young. She needs to experience her immortal life on her own, understand who she is, and not commit to an old loner with so much baggage. It's not right. I can't do that to her.
I should have known. But I love her and I wanted to see her. There is this fire in her. I know it's cliché to say that, but it's true. She's so tall and strong, and she hides her fears, of course, but her boldness has always touched me. She dares, despite everything. And that's probably why I cannot pull her down.
Yes, I'm in love with her. I know. I fooled myself into thinking it was casual for me. But it clearly isn't. And now. She hasn't said anything yet, so it's not too late. I'm going to tell her that I need to leave, that something important requires my attention on the other side of the world, and then we'll stay in contact from afar. As friends. Something like that. We always said we were friends.
And hopefully she will forget about her feelings for me, or meet someone else. It's better this way.
I pushed down my instinct to throw away the notebook. Ameyal had never limited me. She had opened up a world for me. How could she have thought that?
It took me two or three cups of tea and three or four strolls to the garden to find the strength to go back to my reading. And when I read the narration of our first meeting from Ameyal's point of view, it was late in the night. And amid the tears, I smiled.
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