Close to Destiny (A Magical Love Story)

Chapter 73

June 15

I threw the glossy magazine onto the couch with disgust and tried to wipe away the tears that constantly renewed themselves in my eyes. What did it matter that my article finally made it into print? It was a shell of what it should have been if I had truly wanted to tell the story of The Grand East Hotel. That wasn't the reason for my sadness, however.

Ten days had passed and no word from Will. It was over. After six months of turmoil, of daring to believe in an extraordinary romance, all had vanished as swiftly as it had appeared. In a burst of anger, I grabbed Will's notes off the desk, scrunched them up into one big ball of wrinkled paper and threw them into the trash basket. I could no longer fight the tears. I let them fall freely as I huddled against a cushion and dreamed of days when my biggest problem was not knowing or understanding the reason for my sadness. Ignorance is sometimes bliss.

A tentative jingle at the front door startled me. I jumped up and looked at the clock. It was close to four. I must have cried myself to sleep. I wiped my bleary eyes and wandered toward the ringing, which now continued more insistently. A package, probably. Blanche was always receiving them, and those delivery guys never liked to leave anything without a signature.

"Just a minute!" I called out impatiently.

With anxious hands, I jiggled the lock and opened the door.

"Sam." The name escaped my throat in barely a whisper.

I stepped back and looked at him through widened eyes.

"I know this is a surprise," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't call first, especially after all this time."

"No... no problem at all." I took him by the hands and lead him inside, then nervously wiped at my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ears. "Excuse me for being such a mess today..."

"It hasn't been easy for you," Sam said. "I understand. That's why I decided to come over and have a chat."

"Sit down," I said, leading him to the couch. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

We sat facing one another across the coffee table. I bit my lip and studied his calm, kind eyes. He was here to finish the story. The story I thought would never make it to my ears.

"Why did you change your mind... about telling me?"

"So you know that's why I'm here," he said with a wry smile. "I read your article. I could sense the pain and curiosity you were feeling. Maybe I'm being ridiculous, but that's what I picked up when I read it."

"You were right."

"I guess I should first ask what you know and what you would like to learn..."

"I know what happened to Gabriel and that you resented Destiny for not predicting it. But Sam, I don't understand the parties. We were both there and so was Gabriel. How could he be... gone? And yet we can speak with him. It's like a communal dream."

Sam hesitated and then leaned closer across the table.

"This is going to be hard for you to believe, but there's no way around it so I might as well say it flat out: They weren't dreams. You know Destiny was a medium. Well, so was Audrey and many of the others who attended those parties. They escort people like you and me, and then they channel the energy. That allows us to experience things we normally wouldn't have the ability to experience. I'm sure you've had a look around the old ballroom before. You've gone up there in the middle of the afternoon, and it's empty. We've all done it. And at first, I have to admit, it would freak anyone out."