Lucy's POV
I can't say everything has been smooth since I discovered that bitch—Pat—wanted to steal my man, but we're holding up. Who does she think she is? Acting like everyone must bow and salute her at a nod? She can be a princess in her own kingdom, not everywhere. I'm glad I listened to Ken.
Otherwise I might have been blinded into following her and ended up crying, even though I know my man is honorable and faithful. I trust him completely. For the past two years he has been nothing but angelic.
Thinking about my past life, I never met anyone so honest. Back then men were slippery and unfaithful. Or maybe I lived in a doomed era? I'm grateful to the higher powers for giving me another chance at love.
Sometimes I sit and wonder: would I have ever fallen in love at forty if I hadn't died? Death is horrible, but in my case it wasn't — it purged old karma and made me a better person. Not that I despise my former life, but I am thankful for this one. I know there are valleys and mountains of problems ahead, but I'm prepared to work through them.
He loves me undeniably and I love him madly — so what could stop us from riding the waves if our love is this strong? Some will say I'm only twenty-one; what do I know?
Newsflash: been there, done that, wore that T-shirt. I had a whole second life of experience. It's like a navigation map for steering clear of trouble.
Everything is packed, ready to go on a trip to my future. Ken hasn't proposed or anything, but I feel this is a big step — him introducing me to his family. It's huge.
I went through these moments in my previous life, some bad, some good, so I'm a ball of nerves because I don't know whether I'll be accepted. We're traveling by train and it feels like a little adventure. I'm thankful I'm by the window so I can watch vegetation, rivers, the animals we pass.
I glance at Ken, trying to talk about a herd of buffalo I just saw, but he's got his eyes shut. He doesn't look asleep — his jaw twitches and his hand is clenched, veins standing out. Why does it look like he's tense and arguing with himself?
I lift my hand slowly to touch his and soothe him. His eyes snap open and for a second their color shifts — almost golden. I go from worried to scared. What if he's changed his mind about me meeting his family? Or what if he knows they'll never accept me and he's torn? "Babe, are you okay? You seem tense…worried," I ask, worrying.
He closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm okay, omalicha (beauty). I'm just nervous, I guess. It's my first time introducing a girl to my family and I don't know how they'll take it. What worries me more is how you'll take it. There's something I haven't told you about me. I want you to see it for yourself and decide if you want to be with me after that." His voice trembles.
Now I'm really nervous — terrified. Does he mean something that could break us? I stare at him, trying to be steady and loving. I don't want to show fear and make him fall apart, or turn this holiday into a nightmare.
I gently caress his arm; I feel muscles loosen and he gives me a small smile. He's worried and I want to hug his inner self and assure him I'll fight for us. I squeeze his shoulder. He turns to me and I throw myself into his arms, hugging the life out of him.
"Ken, I want you to know I love you with my soul," I whisper. "I can't promise I won't ever be shaken by circumstance, but I promise my love and commitment. I'll stand by us as long as you give me the reason."
I want him to know the only thing with power to break us would be us, not something external. I pull back and look into his hazel eyes. Relief floods me when they return to their normal color — though I'm puzzled he can change eye color at will. Strange.
I cup his face and kiss him. He answers passionately, as if his life depends on it. Thank goodness we're in a private cabin; he insisted on first-class. The train is classy and comfortable. We pull back, breathless. Sometimes I think he'll suck the life out of me with his kisses.
When we kiss, he gets animalistic, like someone else takes over, yet he's gentle too — the kisses are to die for. I often feel wet in my underwear and am embarrassed; it makes me feel loose.
Thank goodness he doesn't know, or I'd die of shame. Though I'd had sex in my previous life, I'd forgotten the sensations.
I'm still technically a virgin at twenty-one, which might seem odd, but I'm waiting for the right time. Ken has been an angel about it; he says he's a virgin too and wants to give himself to his soulmate. How romantic.
Suddenly Ken sniffs the air, excuses himself, and heads to the bathroom. I'm left confused and a little mortified, wondering if he smelled my arousal. Oh boy — if that's true, I want to dig a hole and bury myself.
But then again, it would be really awkward if he could. How good a sense of smell would he have? That would be---almost surreal!