I nce over at him.


    “I will take any gift of time with you.”


    I smile softly.


    “One life of loving you could never be enough,” he whispers softly.


    My eyes ze over in emotion.


    “Don’t be scared,” he whispers as he cups my face in his hand.


    “I am,” I whisper, and my bottom lip quivers as I try to hold in my tears.


    “I know this is frightening. But it’s also a gift. Don’t you feel slightly empowered knowing that, no


    matter what packaging we bothe in, where in the world we are born, what heritage wee from,


    our love still shines through and finds its way back to where it belongs?”


    I smile.


    “That we made history together…” he whispers as he gently kisses my lips.


    I smile through my tears.


    “We  belong  together,  Emmaline,  and  no  matter  how  fucked  up  this  story  seems  to  anyone  else,  it


    doesn’t matter to me. This is our story.”


    I kiss him softly.


    “I believe the word soul matees from circumstances just like ours.” I smile. This beautiful man.


    “You never hear of body mates now, do you?” He raises an eyebrow sarcastically.


    I smile broadly.


    “A soul does not die with our bodies. And soul mates will always find each other. Every time, in


    every life.”


    “I love you,” I breathe.


    “I love you, too.” His eyes close as his lips touch mine.


    “Because of us,” I whisper through tears.


    He smiles into my lips. “Because of us.”


    I grip the steering wheel with white knuckle force as I wait for the garage door to go up. “Come on. Come


    on.” I tap my hands nervously on the wheel as I watch the rearview mirror. “Just hurry up,” I whisper to


    myself. The garage door opens. I rev the car and fly out of the garage and down the street to the sounds of


    the tire’s screeching. I have just stolen star’s car while he showers. He is going to kill me. I nce to


    the backseat at the threerge garbage bags tied up at the top. The rolled up canvases of stolen art are


    inside and I have a n. star and I had heated discussions on and off all day yesterday. He is under the


    ridiculous opinion that this art belongs to us and that we can keep it in the basement; that nobody will ever


    know.


    Realistically, I know that it’s only a matter of time before he gets caught and I will not let him be a


    fool and go to prison to prove some stupid point.


    His memories of painting those paintings of me have clouded his judgment.


    They are not ours to keep in this life.


    The phone rings. It’s star. Shit. I flick the button on the steering wheel.


    “Hello.”


    “What the hell do you think you are doing?” he screams in his deep Irish ent.


    I screw up my face. Oh, he’s never yelled at me before. “I’m, umm, returning the art,” I stammer as I


    stick my tongue out in concentration to turn the corner. Ah, it’s weird driving on the wrong side of the


    road. I could die here any minute. “Get back here now. You don’t have an international license.”


    I frown. Is he kidding. “Last time I looked, a fucking valid license was the least of our problems,


    star,” I shout back.


    “They will me you,” he screams. “Come and get me and I will tell them I did it.”


    “No.”  Shit,  what  will  I  say?  “I  have  already  told  Mark  that  it  was  dumped  on  my  doorstep  this


    morning when I woke up.”


    “What?” He screams. “He’s not fucking stupid, Emmaline.”


    “Yes, he fucking is!” I yell. God, I don’t need this shit. I’m stressed out enough already.


    “If they me me…e and bail me out.”


    “Emmaline!” he yells.


    I  push  the  button  on  the  steering  wheel  and  disconnect  the  call.  I  inhale  deeply  and  wipe  the


    perspiration from my forehead as I grip the steering wheel hard again. Holy crap, what am I doing? This


    is insane. My heart is beating so fast. I pull up into a loading bay outside of work and look around for a


    parking spot. Shit. I nce into the back seat and I know the three bags of paintings will be heavy for me


    to haul a long distance. Screw the parking ticket. star can frigging pay for it. He got me into this mess.


    After parking the car, I put my handbag strap across my body and grab the three bags. I struggle up the


    steps and into reception. Oh, great, Stephanie is here early.


    She raises an eyebrow in question. “Collecting trash now?” She smirks sarcastically.


    “Something like that…” I answer, distracted. Jeez, these bags are heavy. “You could give me a hand,


    you know.” I groan.


    She smirks. “I could.” Then breaks into a broad smile. “But I won’t.”


    “Why are you such a bitch?” I frown.


    “Takes one to know one.” She waves sarcastically as I get into the elevator.


    I give her the bird and the doors close. Fuck, I hate that chick.


    I breathe heavily as I watch the dial turn, and finally I arrive at my destination. My floor. I drag the


    bags through the office and knock on Mark’s door. I hope he’s not in yet. Please don’t be here.


    “Come in,” he calls.Text property ? N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org.