I catch them eyeing me speculatively, wondering what is happening with me. I look up from my reading, from playing with Jacob, after making a chess move, and Father's somber, contemplative gaze swiftly changes to a bright, artificial smile. But he will not . . . will never say anything, nor ask me why my change of attitude. But it puzzles him as it puzzles Diana: she who thinks she understands me so well. She does yet she doesn't. If I tell them what has happened, they will think me mad. Or worse: imagining everything.
I cannot tell them. For how do I explain that even though Catherine has crossed over, I am still connected to her? That our love is so strong it has circumvented death. She promised that she would never leave me, and somehow she has found a way to remain with me if only through the bond. I do not understand it but I do not question it. To question . . . may destroy it. Do not examine the gifts of the gods too closely; they may be withdrawn.
I felt a small tremor in the depths of my soul when I kissed her on the night that I lost her. That was the first implication of the return of our bond, but I was too deeply immersed in my grief to really feel it. Then when I held our son for the first time and looked deeply into his blue-green eyes, the bond became stronger and surged into completion on his naming day when I felt her presence. The peace of mind and the closeness I feel to her is the meat and drink of my existence. I feel her waiting for me . . . loving me. She comes to me in my dreams, and I know her comfort and wisdom whenever I need them. Our separation will be but for a few short years, and as long as I know she is with me, I can wait until we are together again.
My father, my friends all grieve for me, worry about me, afraid that I am only denying my grief at my loss, afraid that it will all come crashing down on me someday and destroy me. But I can only continue on as I am now and hope that they will eventually find their own answers. If not completely happy, I rest content in the love of our son until he is grown and ready to find his own bondmate. Then I know that she will come for me. How? I don't know. But she will come, then no one will say of me that I am alone.