The Curse of Redwood (Ivy Grove #2) - Jaclyn Osborn Page 0,115
needed to imprint his face to memory, memorize every little thing about him—the light crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, the perfect slope of his nose, and the poutiness of his lips.
“I see.”
“It’s a stupid ending,” I scoffed, as more tears fell. “Ben’s such an asshole.”
Zeke released a short laugh before a desperate gleam appeared in his eyes. He held my nape in a firm grip and slammed his mouth to mine. The kiss could’ve lasted for eternity, and it still would’ve been too short.
“I must go,” he whispered. “I’ve delayed it long enough.”
I slid off his lap and got to my feet, but I didn’t let go of him. Our fingers linked as he stood in front of me.
Just one more touch, I silently begged. One more kiss. I tilted my head up to meet his pain-stricken gaze.
“Promise me you wont dwell in heartache,” Zeke said, cupping my cheek. “You need to live your life to the fullest. Fall in love again, but never settle for a man who doesn’t treat you as you deserve.” A low growl left him. “I hate him already.”
I tried—and failed—to smile, but I hurt too much. No man would ever compare to him.
Something red caught my eye, and I turned my head to see a rose bush. With the roses in full bloom.
“Zeke,” I said, pointing to it.
He looked over and smiled. That smile widened when the rest of the dead plants began to awaken once more. It was like magic as the rest of the mansion woke from the curse. Thorns circling the gazebo withdrew, leaving only green vines, and the garden he loved so much gained new life.
“The trees,” he whispered, staring up in awe. “Look at them, Carter.”
The branches on the dawn redwoods were no longer bare. Leaves sprouted on them, and though it was too dark to see the color, it was still incredible. A gentle wind blew, and the breeze was carried through the branches, ruffling the leaves. Like music.
“You finally got to see them again,” I said, remembering his words from before. “Redwood is no longer a place for dead things.”
Zeke pulled me into his embrace and pressed his face into my hair like he always did. “Which is why I must go now.”
I gripped his shirt and closed my eyes as more tears welled in them. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to you.”
“Then don’t say goodbye,” he whispered, angling my head up to look at him. “Say… until we meet again.”
“I love you,” I said, moments from breaking apart. Perhaps I was already broken and just didn’t know it yet.
“You will always have my heart, no matter where I am.” He wiped away one of my tears. “I love you… truly and deeply.”
His body began to fade.
“No!” I cried and clung onto his shirt.
Zeke leaned forward and kissed me. The pressure of his lips lightened on mine, and when I opened my eyes again, he was gone.
“Zeke?” My gaze swept around the garden, to the gazebo, and then to the back patio. Panicking, I rushed forward before spinning around and frantically searching. “Ezekiel!” When seconds passed with no sign of him, I fell to my knees in the grass. “You can’t be gone.”
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I pulled myself up off the ground and went back inside the mansion. Callum had cleaned up the salt and was gathering the rest of his supplies.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said, somewhat surprised by my detached tone. I just felt so… tired. Mentally, physically, and most of all, emotionally. I had cried so much that I felt drained. “You saved my life.”
“You may be annoying, but I’d do it all over again,” Callum answered, turning to me. He looked nearly as bad as I felt. The night had taken a toll on him too. “How are you holding up?”
I shrugged and glanced around the entrance hall. I hated the emptiness. I missed hearing William’s steps as he ran down the corridor. I put a hand on the railing of the stairs and remembered Zeke carrying me up the steps as we both laughed. I missed him, and he’d only been gone for such a short time.
“I know it hurts, but we did a great thing,” Callum said, drawing my eyes back to him. “There’s no more suffering here. The spirits are free.”
Headlights shone through the stained-glass window, and we ducked out of sight.