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“Excuse me,” the barista said. “Can I get you two anything else?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Hope looked at Nick. “Another latte?”

“How about something stronger?”

“Espresso?” the barista said.

“Anything stronger than that?”

The barista told him the best they could do was a double espresso. Nick asked for it to go, then leaned over the table to loop a wayward lock behind Hope’s ear.

“You were saying?” His touch electrified her but this time it seemed more natural. The sensation originated from within her.

“During my dark years after Chloe died,” she said, “one of the only rays of light came from Jonathan Hartwell’s talks on the radio. You know who I’m talking about?”

“Who doesn’t by now?”

“Yeah, too bad about that scandal. I’m sure there’s a good explanation, if he says there is. Guess we’ll know tomorrow.” She sighed. “Anyway, I used to call his lifeline a few times a year, when I needed someone to talk to, and eventually I became one of their regulars. They prayed for me, sent me care packages—they’re really the sweetest people, and they did everything they could. But I stopped calling, pulled away from them once I started thinking about…you know.”

“You were afraid they might talk you out of it.”

The very memory of those recent attempts sent a chill through her heart. She reached out for his hand.

He took it, and smiled poignantly.

“Well, anyway, that’s all the past, thanks to you. And today, after almost a year, I called them again and told them how I’d been rescued from—”

“You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

“No.” She hadn’t thought they’d believe an angel had saved her life and with a touch healed the pain within her.

“Good.” He let out a sigh. “What did you say, then?”

“That God had revealed the truth to me—I mean, that’s what angels do, right? Bring messages from above?”

“Um, right.”

“Anyway, long story short, they called me back—thanks for this cute little phone, by the way—and told me Jonathan Hartwell loved my story and asked if I would share it at Cabrillo Stadium tomorrow at his speaking event!”

“Really?”

“Isn’t that amazing?”

“That’s wonderful!” he said as the barista returned with his double espresso.

60

“I’M HAPPY FOR YOU, HOPE.” Nick drank the espresso, which made up in strength what it lacked in volume, and put a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

“You’re a big tipper,” Hope said. He stood and took her hand to help her up.

“It’s just money.”

“Still, you don’t just throw it around like that.”

He’d never given this human issue much thought. Might want to start, though—once his transformation was complete, he wouldn’t be able to conjure up currency like that anymore.

Hope wrapped her arm around his as they left The Coffee Shack and walked down the sidewalk toward the shore. The sky’s embers cooled to a deep violet as the moon rose and the multitude of heavenly hosts entered the stage. Enthralled, Nick stopped.

“Is it usually that beautiful—I mean, from down here?”

“The sky and the stars?” She watched with her head leaning against his shoulder. “It is special tonight, but yeah, it’s usually like that.”

“Remarkable. It’s like I’m seeing everything for the first time.”

“Is that a good thing?”

He took a minute to answer her.

“Yes, I believe it is.” He led her across the street to a bench overlooking the foamy waves hitting the shore with a soft hiss. They sat under a street lamp and he turned to face her. The words didn’t come readily, though.

“You all right, Nick?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“I don’t know, you seem a little preoccupied.”

Going from immortal and eternal to finite and human was hard on the system. But there really was no middle ground. If anything, it was only temporary

“I’ve got something weighing on me,” he said.

“I knew it,” she said, not looking at him, her lip quivering.

“Knew what?”

“It was too good to be true, wasn’t it?”

“I haven’t said any—”

“Don’t have to, it’s written all over your face. You’ve done your job and angels can’t become involved with mortals and you have to leave even though you don’t want to and I really do understand, but—”

“I don’t think you do.”

“It’s always been that way. Something good comes into my life, only to be—”

He pressed two fingers over her lips.

“Just listen to me, love. I am not going anywhere.”

Then he lowered his hand, and let her speak.

“What about the angel laws?” she said.

“Applicable only to angels.”

“You mean…?”

“I’m giving up my angel status to become human.”

At first, she stared at him, as though trying to understand what exactly that meant. All at once, her eyes grew wide. Hope cried out his name, threw her arms so tight around his neck he thought he might suffocate. Then she became quiet for a minute. Sighed. Looked away, then back again.

“You’ve been an angel for thousands of years,” she said finally. “Becoming human means…”

“I’ll die one day. I know.”

“For someone who’s lived as long as you, a human lifespan will seem as short as a breath.”

“And what a glorious breath that life will be if I could spend every day of it with you.” She could feel his gaze deep in her soul—he sensed this with what remained of his angelic powers.

Which was beginning to weaken. It was happening—he could tell. With or without approval from above, gradually, he was falling.

“Do you know what you’re giving up?” Hope said.

“To feel what you feel, to enjoy the sunsets, the tastes, the sights, the smells—most of all the love that only humans can fully appreciate? I’d rather live one day sharing that with you than an eternity without you.”

She shook her head, tears rolling down her face.

“I… I can’t let you give up your immortality for me.”

“It’s mine to give.”

His entire past life seemed to have faded into a distant impression. All he could think of was being with Hope, right here, right now. With barely restrained intensity, he placed his hand on her face, whispered her name, and kissed her.

It seemed to have stunned her for a second, but then she returned the kiss, a tear falling from her eye and warmly onto his hand.

“Nick…”

“I’ve made up my mind.” He kissed her again.

She held him desperately as more tears fell. He had observed such human behavior before but never quite understood the contradiction until now. Although the tears were Hope’s, he was feeling exactly what she felt, and the awareness that he loved and was so loved filled him with such joy it hurt.

Try as he might, he could not suspend this moment beyond what a human would ordinarily experience. The thought that tomorrow might diminish the joy surging through his very human heart at this moment hung over him like an executioner’s ax. He pushed the thought aside.

And then the ax fell.

61

SHE MUST HAVE SEEN IT IN HIS FACE, which had changed the minute his phone started ringing.

Hope let out a breath. “If it’s important…”

“I’m sorry, it is.”

He stepped away from the bench and answered Lena’s call.

“Listen carefully, Nick—”

“Before you say another word,” he said, “I need to tell you something.”