The Sinner by Emma Scott

I

One year later…

 

I unlocked the door to my little apartment and pushed it open. Moving boxes crowded the kitchen, though I didn’t think we had enough stuff to warrant so many of them. I picked my way through the living room, bypassing more boxes, and hung my coat up in our tiny, over-stuffed closet.

I smiled at Cas’s clothes brushing up against my dresses, the scent of his cologne mingling with my perfume. The bedsheets smelled like both of us.

This is heaven.

Except moving. Moving sucked. But thanks to Cas’s promotion, we’d been able to afford that magical Manhattan miracle—a decent place that wasn’t going to break the bank. In three days, we’d move to nearly seven hundred square feet in Midtown with a tiny view of the Park all to ourselves. No more trash-strewn back lot or rickety stairs; we’d actually be able to enter our apartment building through the front door like normal people.

Normal people. Is that what we are?

I smiled and glanced at the clock. A little after four. Cas would be done with his classes soon. NYU’s newest associate professor of Ancient Civilizations was also the youngest person to ever hold the post. The board of trustees had been ready to dismiss his application, having no résumé, no teaching experience, and no credentials of any kind. But whoever had given Cas back to me, had given us a little help, too. On that rainy morning, we found a wallet in his jeans pocket with a thousand dollars in cash and a social security card with his name on it.

“The money’s from Ambri,” he’d said, smiling fondly. “I was going to pay you back with it. And this…”

The social security card was his passport to this lifetime.

With my help, we put together a presentation that left NYU slack-jawed at his expertise. To explain his uncommon talent, he told them his family had taken great care to pass down the traditions of his heritage, generation after generation. It was a weak explanation at best, but while some archeologists and linguists could speak Sumerian, Cas was fluent. He unlocked doors to pronunciation and context that had been mysteries for thousands of years.

Now, major museums across the globe were sniffing out NYU’s prodigy, calling on him to translate broken or faded tablets, identify and date artifacts, and generally fill in the missing pieces of Mesopotamian history with information no one could’ve possibly known…unless they’d lived it.

Outside, the November sky was leaden and gray. It was going to be cold tonight, the perfect night to cuddle up on the couch and watch Schitt’s Creek, wrapped securely in Cas’s arms. Then he’d take me to bed. We’d bring each other to one crashing orgasm after another, then lie tangled up together, whole and perfect.

I was at the window, watering Edgar Junior, when it came over me…that overwhelming feeling of being so impossibly happy, it was almost scary. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe I’d wake up from this crazy dream to find it was no different than waking from the dreams of Japan or Russia. My bed would be empty, and that sense of incompletion would swoop in…

I heard Cas come in, muttering a curse at the boxes near the door.

“Hey,” I called without turning, making my tone as light as possible. “How was your day? Did you—?”

My question dissolved into a soft moan as Cas slipped his arms around my waist and put his mouth to my neck. Pleasant shivers rippled through me as his teeth nipped, his tongue and lips migrating up to my ear.

“Did I miss you?” he finished. “Yes. Did I daydream about having you? Yes. Did I fantasize about taking you on my lectern in class, or on my desk in my office, or up against the wall in the hallway…?”

“That’s a lot of places,” I managed weakly, melting against him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“The subject for today’s lesson was sex and marriage rites an ancient Sumer,” he said. “You have no idea how difficult it is to describe your own wedding night to a room full of college students without getting an erection.”

I laughed, but it faded fast, and he felt my tension.

“What’s wrong? I didn’t actually give particulars of our night—”

“No, of course you didn’t.” I turned in the circle of his arms and stopped, arrested by how beautiful he was. How he looked at me with such love and want, the way I’d always dreamed of being looked at. It was all too perfect. Too good.

“You don’t have to be with me,” I blurted.

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I need some air.”

I went outside and sat on the top step of the stairs. I heard Cas follow me and quickly brushed away the tears of frustration that slid down my cheeks.

“Lucy. Talk to me.”

“We were married four thousand years ago, but that doesn’t mean you have to stick with me. Or be…obligated.”

“Obligated,” he said flatly. “But I am obligated. I’m obligated by how much I love you.” He sat down beside me. “Where is this coming from?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. My inner demons telling me this is too good to be true.”

Cas muttered a curse and withdrew a small black box from his suit pocket. He turned it around and around in his hands. A little gasp fell from my lips.

“I should’ve given it to you months ago,” he said. “Every day since I came back, I could’ve gotten down on my knees and asked if you’d be my wife.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked softly.

He turned to me, his eyes heavy and full of love. “The same reason you came out here. ‘Inner demons’ telling me that it wouldn’t be good enough. So I’ve been reading your romance novels for guidance. I wanted to make my proposal something special. To give you what they call a grand gesture.”

A fresh rush of love swept through me at the idea of this man pouring through my romances, just like I had, looking for something he could give me. “Is that why you insisted on packing my books last? You’ve been reading them?”

“Yes, but I can’t do what the billionaires do.” An adorably grouchy scowl came over his face. “And how are there so many billionaires in the first place? Or British nobility? How many eligible dukes does the royal family have?”

I laughed. “You have to suspend disbelief in the name of love.”

He scowled. “It’s enough to make a poor professor feel inadequate.”

“I don’t need a grand gesture.” I hid a smile in his shoulder. “But if you wanted to open the box, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Not yet. Your books taught me another phrase—the grovel.” I started to laugh but he turned to me, so earnest and serious. “I must beg your forgiveness, Lucy.”

“For what?”

“For so many things. Little wounds I’ve given you…and large ones. Ones that cut deep. For the time I told you to mind your fucking business in the department store. I couldn’t stand the idea of you being worried about me. Already, your gentle heart cared for a bastard like me.”

“Oh, Cas. You don’t have to—”

“I do. I’m sorry I made you feel ashamed when you were dressed up to go to the singing bar, when in truth, I was stunned by your beauty.”

“Really? I thought you hated all of it. The makeup, the dress…”

“No. The women in Larsa lined their eyes with kohl. You looked so much like Li’ili in that moment, I could scarcely breathe. But I did hate that red dress. Because you weren’t wearing it for me.” He brushed a lock of hair off my cheek. “But I liked your hair pulled away from your face so that I could see more of it. I never tire of looking at your face. I never will.”

I could hardly see for the tears now. “Casziel…”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you at the wedding. It should’ve been me, not Guy. I should never have put your hand in his. I should never have said those terrible things to you. I said them instead of what was in my heart, and that is that I’ll love you forever. I have loved you forever, through every century, with every lifetime that’s passed and every lifetime to come. There is only you. There will only ever be you. My love. My life.” His jaw clenched. “And if you’ll have me again…my wife.”

He opened the box to reveal a gold ring with an oval of lapis lazuli, surrounded by tiny pale blue diamonds.

“Lapis is the sacred stone of our people,” he said, taking the ring from the box. “The same color as your eyes.”

My hand flew to my heart. “Cas…it’s so beautiful.”

“Not half as beautiful as you. In body and soul.” He slipped the ring on my finger and pressed my hand to his lips. “Lucy Dennings…we were wed once before, but I’ll never take your love for granted. It is the greatest gift I’ll ever receive, and I’ll spend this life making myself worthy of it, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, Cas. Of course, I will.”

His smile was breathtaking, and he kissed me softly, his mouth taking mine in tender touches, pouring his love into me. I could taste it, feel it, breathe it in until it filled me up and left no room for doubt. I rested my head against his chest while he held me, and we sat in the twilight, basking in the wholeness of us. The ring wasn’t merely pretty, it felt like a seal to bind us together. A promise fulfilled, at long last.

“Will you miss it?” Cas asked after a while, nodding to the barren lot below us.

“A little. It’s where I found you. Twice.”

“You were so brave, Lucy. To see me as I was and take me into your home. To accept me.”

I smiled. “It helped that you were naked.”

He laughed a little. “I don’t remember what happened on the Other Side, but I know I have a lot to make up for.”

“Be one more good person in the world,” I said. “That’s all it needs.”

“I think I can do that. I have you to show me how.”

Cas kissed me again and the joy flowed through me freely. My beloved. My soulmate, and my happily ever after.