Goddesses Don't Get Sick (12 page)

THIRTY-THREE.

IN A WORD; YES.

A month later, Angela found a dress that even she had to admit was perfect, much to Vera’s pleasure. The venue was secured, a caterer had been found. Everything was falling into place.

As the wedding date few closer, Angela requested some time off work in order to sell her apartment and gradually start the moving process; a request that Mr. Barton was more than happy to grant Angela with a kind and forgiving smile. His own daughter had been married a year before, and he’d remembered the extra stress she’d been under while still having to deal with her own work commitments.

Even as Angela slowly began to pack up her and Jason’s life in the apartment, the final wedding plans fell together with an alarming speed and grace. It seemed like only a week had passed, and suddenly Angela had less than a month to go to the wedding.

Jason moved back into his parents’ house for the final month; a kind of token attempt to recreate the older rituals of saving each other for the wedding night, as well as to give Angela a little more room to breath as the day came closer. She had worried he would get the wrong idea by her sudden desire for privacy, but—once again—Jason had professed gentle and loving understanding at Angela’s need to prepare for the wedding in her own way. After all, he’d reasoned, it wasn’t as if they weren’t still seeing each other nearly every night, for dinner if nothing else.

And then, all too soon, it was less than a week before the wedding. Angela’s apartment had been sold, her belongings mostly packed up into boxes, or already at the new house. Jason had gone out of town for a final business meeting before the festivities began. She was alone; a very rare occurrence these days.

The apartment looked more and more sparse as the furnishings were whittled down, but Angela nevertheless found herself taking an odd kind of comfort from it. There was something about going through her old and forgotten things that helped to distract her from the future, instead bringing to mind her past. Each item she came across seemed to only bring back fond memories, the salve of time soothing or erasing any of the bad.

Sifting idly through some boxes full of old textbooks and notes that she’d left under her bed, it came as somewhat of a surprise when Angela opened the box full of mementos that had been given to her by Tuyen. Ignoring the memories of him had long since become reflex, so much so that Angela had almost forgotten just how often Tuyen had sent her little gifts and presents during the time they’d been friends. As Angela picked up a familiar toy cat, her hand strayed to her throat, where the feather still remained.

Not entirely surprised to find that she was suddenly fighting back tears, Angela began looking through the rest of the box’s contents. Opening the topmost book on a pile—
Greek Mythology
—Angela blinked as she recognized the envelope Tuyen had given to her the last time they met.

The envelope that contained a promise of answers, but that she’d been too angry, too sad, too upset to read. She’d never forgotten the Angel, but she had forgotten his letter. It seemed odd to Angela; to have forgotten something which might have offered clarity to the man…the
person
she’d loved. But at the time her anger, and the prospect of the letter not answering
all
of her questions (or even raising more), had stayed her from reading it.

Here and now, though?

Sitting back up on the bed, Angela lifted the envelope away from the book and looked at it for a long time, realizing that—now—she very much wanted to know. Feeling as if she were in a dream, she opened the envelope and removed its contents: a single page of cream paper, filled on both sides with close, tidy handwriting.

Swallowing a lump that seemed to have lodged itself in her throat, Angela unfolded the letter and began to read.

THIRTY-FOUR.

MY DARLING GODDESS.

I know you protest that title, Angela, but I cannot think of any other way to begin this letter. Will you even read this, I wonder? I don’t think I would have written it if a part of me had not been certain you must, yet I cannot tell when that will happen. When these words will be read. But I write them nonetheless.

First, and most importantly, you must understand this: although I am an Angel, I am not quite what you may think. Nor is my maker; they are not the Christian God you are familiar with, though there are similarities enough.
What humans see as Angelkind is composed of four factions—species, of a sort—of my maker’s servants. I am a Watcher; ranked above Walkers but below Sentinels and Heralds.

Like all Angels, we Watchers have a specific role to play.

I did not lie to you when I said it was my job to help others, Angela. It is the task of all Watchers to prevent humans from making hasty or ill-advised decisions.

Like jumping off a bridge, perhaps.

The primary rule we have is to offer each of you a helping hand only once
, when it is at its most necessary.

This is why I was so uneasy associating with you after that night, Goddess. I had saved you, like I had saved so many before. My Duty to you was complete. And yet, I could not stop thinking about you once we had met. I could not fight my desire to see you again. So I gifted you a feather from my wing.

The feather you bear about your neck—if you still wear it—ties your heart to mine. An Angel’s heart is never truly parted from his feathers, and while you wear one of mine I am able to share in your joys, your triumphs, even your despairs. If you ever wondered why I always seemed to send you gifts related to your current situation, it’s because I was able to sense your feelings. Though a far cry from reading your mind, it allowed me to feel close to you. To try and be there for you when I could not do so physically. Despite the risk of any punishment I may face, I could not bear to lose all contact with you.

I am sure my maker must be aware of my actions—of my infractions—but it is not in their nature to police us. It is the Sentinels that my kind report to, and they…I can only assume they are not aware of my behavior. Had it been noticed at the time that I continued to visit you after that night on the bridge, I would have been reassigned elsewhere.

Had it been noticed later on, who knows?

Do you see now why I ran after that kiss? That wonderful kiss that I will never forget, no matter how many of your lifetimes I live. I was terrified that I was being watched. That my wings would be torn from me. Or worse, that I would never be able to see you again.

I still fear that something may happen, and it escapes me as to why our bond has gone on this long without comment. Humans and Angels are not meant to interact beyond the most rudimentary of contact. Yet you and I…

Perhaps there is a reason for it. There is always reason in everything. I just wish I could tell you what it was. Sadly, I lack the abilities of foresight my greater kin share. Until I find that reason—or until I am caught—all I can do is my best to serve you. For if nothing else, I know this one fact to be true: I cannot deny my Goddess.

Even if you never wish to speak to me again, I will do everything in my power to make you happy and let you have the life you wish. The life you deserve. I will always watch over you, no matter what should happen to me. The only person, the only being who could ever stop me from watching over you now, is you, Goddess.

I cannot even say that of my maker these days, so strong is my love for you.

I know you may never read this letter, or may read it years after the last time we spoke.
But if you do decide that you want to see me again, even if it would be only to talk or ask more questions, just focus on that while wearing the feather.

Think of me, say my name, and I will come to my Goddess’s call.

Please, never doubt the depth of my feelings for you, and try to understand why I did not act on them. I wanted nothing more than to do just that, my Goddess. But it was my own fears that held me back, until even the truth was unforgivable in its lateness.

I don’t know if you will ever forgive me, or if we will ever meet again. But no matter what, I will always be

Your Angel,
Tuyen

THIRTY-FIVE.

ANGELA SAT BACK
AGAINST HER BED
and let the paper fall to her lap, her mind struggling to process what she’d read.

The answers within the letter only raised more questions—just as she’d feared—all of them fighting for attention in her mind.

It was all too confusing. Too convoluted, and conflicting, and…

(
All this time?
)

Shaking her head, Angela tried to drive the thoughts out, unaware that she had begun to cry as an overwhelming, paranoid feeling of being stalked washed over her. Curling up into a ball, she hugged her knees and tried to think, tried to understand.

(
He’s always been watching me? All this time? I never took the feather off. Never
thought
to take the feather off. Is he controlling my mind and making me do things? Making me want things? Am I just leading what he thinks is my ideal life?!
)

Hot anger welled up inside Angela.

This wasn’t the old ache of hurt at Tuyen’s secrets and avoidance of her. This was the anger brought on by fear and paranoia; an anger bordering on hatred.

Picking up the letter once more, Angela read through it quickly, her mind raging even as she searched for the phrase that had struck her. Focusing on that one part in particular, Angela’s expression hardened as she found it, before she crumpled the page in a fist and stood up. Striding towards her apartment’s small balcony, Angela flung open the doors and stepped outside, too angry to feel foolish at what she was about to do.

“Tuyen!” She screamed at the sky. There was no response, only the sound of distant traffic below her balcony.

Damn you, Tuyen, you come here and you come here now!

Growling at the lack of immediate response, Angela balled up the letter and threw it into the wind as she screamed again. “
Angel
!”

She waited, breathing harshly as she searched the sky, not entirely sure what she was expecting to see. The crumpled letter soared and dipped in the wind, its graceful dance a contradiction to the seething anger Angela was feeling.

Then she did see something: a figure falling from the clouds, spreading massive wings and banking sharply towards her.

Briefly, Angela’s anger left her as she could only stare in wonder at the Angel in all his glory. He was beautiful, and Angela’s heart ached with longing as she realized just how much she’d missed him.

(
All this time?
)

Shaking her head to clear it, Angela found the anger again easily enough, and she waited for the angel.

Catching the letter in one hand, Tuyen soared towards the balcony as Angela backed away inside. Landing lightly on the railing, he hopped down to the floor and stepped inside, barefoot and naked except for a pair of loose, dark trousers. When he turned to close the doors, Angela could see his wings already fading from view as he folded them; shrinking into his back until there was nothing more than the pair of scars she had seen before. It hurt her eyes and mind to watch them, as if her consciousness was trying to fight what it perceived to be an impossibility, but then she was distracted as Tuyen turned back to her.

He smiled hesitantly at Angela, opening his mouth to speak when she took two quick steps towards him and slapped him, throwing as much force into the strike as she could. She was close enough to hear his neck crack in protest as it wrenched to the side, the grimace on his face showing how unaccustomed to feeling pain he was.

Tuyen’s mouth opened slightly in an unheard cry as he reached a hand up to touch his reddened cheek, wincing at the gentle contact of his own fingers.

“How much?” Angela hissed. “How much of my life has been a lie?”

Frowning in confusion, Tuyen cast his eyes to Angela, the slap forgotten in wake of the question. “What?”

“My job?” Angela sobbed. “My promotions?
Jason?
Did you give him to me as well? Is that why—”Angela shook her head, refusing to ask that particular question. “Have I earned
nothing
by myself?”

Realization dawned in the Angel’s eyes and an expression of unutterable sadness washed over them. “Ange…” He keened softly.

“
How much
, Tuyen?” Angela insisted, backing away from him. She reached for the chain around her neck and worked to undo it. Fumbling with the clasp, she gave up with an oath and began to yank at it, trying to break the chain with sheer force as her tears fell freely.

It wouldn’t break.

She didn’t see Tuyen as he moved towards her, but immediately began to struggle when she felt his arms circle her from behind. Grabbing her gently but firmly by the wrists, Tuyen resisted Angela’s struggles and tried to move her hands away from the chain.

“None,” he spoke softly into her ear, but was ignored as Angela continued to fight his grasp. Freeing one hand, Angela turned and slapped him again across the other cheek, causing Tuyen’s vision to blur for a moment in pain before he forced himself to ignore it.

Pulling Angela back to him with the wrist he still grasped, Tuyen took her face in his hands and held it steady as he waited for her to look at him. When he finally managed to catch her gaze he held it, doing his best to express with his eyes what she would not hear.

“None of it, Angela,” he repeated softly. “You have earned this life all for yourself, my Goddess. I acted only indirectly where I could.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Angela asked acidly, trying to glare at him even as her heart begged to hold and forgive him. “Did you make other people screw up so I’d look good? Did you destroy everyone else’s applications for that internship?”

“You have earned every promotion and advancement in your career through your own skill. All I did was make sure they saw your application. You said yourself that it was a lottery.”

Angela shook her head, trying to turn her eyes from the Angel’s gaze. “And Jason?” She asked numbly. Tuyen gave her a small, if slightly bitter smile.

“Why would I send someone else to be with the only women I’ve ever loved?” He asked. “Jason loves you for who you are Angela. I play no part in his actions.”

“But…you said in the letter. You made my life…what I wanted,” Angela murmured, no longer trying to fight his hold.

“I helped you get what you deserved, Goddess. All I did for you was inconsequential in the larger scheme. I just watched over you, trying to grant your smaller wishes from what I felt through the feather. To make sure you weren’t in an accident or badly hurt. To ensure you wouldn’t fall prey to the bad luck that plagues so many. I am sorry if you thought I was controlling your life by doing this.”

“Is that why Hawaii was so horrible?” Angela asked as the thought suddenly occurred to her. Tuyen frowned in confusion.

“You went to Hawaii?”

“Last year, for my birthday.” Angela was oddly comforted by Tuyen’s lack of knowledge of where she’d been. It weakened the argument of her fears that he had been stalking her; controlling her.

“Beyond my range of focus. That explains why I couldn’t pick up anything from the feather,” Tuyen murmured to himself, before blushing slightly. “It didn’t occur to me that you might have gone overseas. I just…thought you’d taken it off for a while.”

Gently loosening his grip to a caress, rather than a hold, Tuyen wiped the tears from Angela’s face and smiled at her sadly. “I’ve missed you,” he said, a hand brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes. The hand continued to her shoulder, following her arm down until his fingers linked with her own. Feeling the unfamiliar presence of the engagement ring, Tuyen blinked slightly in surprise and lifted the hand up to his eyes. He studied the elegant ring for a moment, swallowing the unfamiliar taste of bile that rose in the back of his throat.

“Your fiancé has good taste,” he finally managed to say, in a voice that held only a slight tremor. Shrugging, Angela pulled her hand from his grasp.

“When is the ceremony?” Tuyen asked, not wanting to know, but at the same time desperate for the knowledge.

“Next week,” Angela studied the ring herself for a moment. “Everyone seems to think it’s a good match,” she sighed softly and dropped her hand. She went on to say more but stopped.

“And what do you think?” Tuyen gently prompted. When she didn’t reply, he pressed further. “Do you love him?”

“I…care for him, a lot,” Angela responded reluctantly, not looking Tuyen in the eye.

“But do you love him?” The Angel repeated.

“Does that really matter?” She snapped back. “Does it make any difference to you whether I love him or not? At least he’ll marry me.”

Stung, Tuyen let go of Angela. Rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably—a habit of his that Angela had missed, without realizing it—he backed away from her, until he was left standing in the middle of the room awkwardly. Knowing what he was, now, he seemed out of place in something so mundane as an apartment bedroom, even without his wings in view.

Angela watched him helplessly. The anger was gone, replaced instead with a hopeless love that had never really been absent from her heart since she’d met this strange and wonderful creature.

“We could have tried, you know,” Angela’s throat tightened again at the painful memories.

“Would you have honestly wanted to, with something like me?” Tuyen’s voice carried the same tone of dejected rationalization that it had the night he’d spread his wings for Angela.

“You didn’t give me a chance to find out!” Angela cried. “Even when you told me what you were, you had plenty of reasons for why we wouldn’t work, but not a single reason to even
try
!”

“You didn’t even want to see me after you saw my true form,” Tuyen sounded hurt and confused, and Angela shook her head unhappily.

“But maybe it would have been nice to see if you’d fight for me,” she spoke dully.

Their eyes caught over the distance and held, something passing between the two of them that was so powerful it drove the breath from Angela’s throat.

Tuyen felt it too, a quiet keen of longing escaping his mouth without him even being aware of it. A part of Angela tried to cry a warning at what she was thinking, but she was through letting others—even the voices of her own subconscious—decide for her right now.

“To hell with this,” she muttered, approaching the Angel and pulling Tuyen into a kiss.

Surprised, he stumbled back until he was pressed against the wall; their kiss holding as Angela clung to him and followed his movements. Turning his head to the side, Tuyen broke the kiss and gasped for breath.

“Angela—” He started.

“You can’t deny your Goddess?” Angela asked, turning his head back to look at her.

Still panting slightly, he shook his head and swallowed nervously. His mind had always been so calm and ordered, but around Angela…Around her it was a shambles. And right now, it was chaotic with unfamiliar emotions.

Angela kissed Tuyen again, pressing her body close to him. A small smile formed as she felt his erection against her hip, and she leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“Then make love to me.”

Tuyen gaped, pushing Angela away weakly. His face had flushed crimson, although from what exactly—Embarrassment? Arousal? Disgust?—Angela wasn’t entirely sure.

“We c-can’t,” he stuttered, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. “Jason…”

“Is not my husband yet.” Angela approached again and rested her hand on the Angel’s cheek. “Please,” she begged. “Please, Tuyen, just this once. Don’t you want me?”

A small laugh escaped his lips, and he shook his head gently.

“More than anything I have ever known.” He spoke softly, but still made no move towards her. Angela’s eyes pleaded with him, forcing Tuyen to turn his head away as he struggled to think through the emotions.

When Tuyen still didn’t move, Angela blushed slightly and backed away from him. Tuyen looked up at her then, caught completely by surprise as Angela began to undress, her movements only a little self-conscious. The Angel watched with a desperately helpless expression on his face, until Angela was left only in her underwear, her arms crossed over bare breasts.

Swallowing back a whimper, Tuyen tried to speak, his body slightly hunched against the unfamiliar tightness in his groin.

“I’ve— I’ve never…” He managed weakly, trying not to look at her. Angels have never been created to desire, not as humans had, but Tuyen desired now. His own wants mixed with what he could feel from Angela through the feather’s bond, leaving the Angel feeling helpless and terrified.

No matter how much he wanted what was being offered to him.

“I haven’t…I’ve never been with…” Tuyen tried again and failed. Angela smiled sadly and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, Tuyen. Please.” She held out her arms to him. “Please, my Angel. Grant me this, and I won’t ask anything else of you.”

Tuyen moaned as he looked at her. Feeling the last of his resolve shatter, he went to her, by now unable to stop himself even if he had wanted to.

“My Goddess,” Tuyen whispered hoarsely, gently gathering Angela in his arms and wrapping his wings around them as he carried her to her bed. Laying her down on it, he looked at her for a moment with a wondering expression, before the Angel bent his head and kissed her.