A Heart Bleeding Gold (MIDNIGHT #3) by H.M. Darling EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: H.M. Darling
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 8.5 MB
- Price: Free
The first time I said goodbye, I was nine years old.
It was the day my mother died. While my older brother and my
father held her pale, fragile hands and cried over her limp body, I
watched from the shadows in the corner of the room, holding an orange in
my trembling hands as my mother’s breath grew more and more ragged
before it eventually stopped. I listened while my father wailed, and
memorized the tears that streaked down my brother’s face.
Only when they swept out of the room to fetch the doctor did I say
goodbye to my mother. I did it without touching her—I was afraid death
was contagious—whispering how much I loved her. I told her I would miss
her voice in the morning and her bare feet dancing across the wooden floors
of the only home I’d ever known.
When my brother and father returned, my brother pulled me out of the
way and held me against his chest so I wouldn’t see the doctor take our
mother away—as if I hadn’t already seen life leave her body. I understood
he was trying to protect me, but it was too late. My soul was already marred
by my first goodbye.
That was two hundred years ago.
My parents were long dead, as was almost everyone I’d ever known.
Two centuries was a long time to live; it meant a lot of broken hearts and
goodbyes.
My mother died in 1845.
My father died in 1858, the year before me and my brother.
In 1888, the elderly woman I’d been living with—who had become my
constant companion and truest friend—passed away in her sleep.
In 1900, I became best friends with a mother of four. Six months later,
she drowned and left her children to their absent father.
In 1908, the woman I was in love with left me to marry a man. I never
saw her again, though she died sixty years later.
In 1926, I loved a man in Richmond, Virginia. When I said goodbye to
him, burning what was left of my heart in the process, I left a trail of death
in my wake.
1938. 1957. 1959. 1983. 1999. 2001. 2008. 2010. 2019. 2023.
Over and over again, I left people behind or watched them die. Their
absences ripped gaping wounds in my heart and left them to bleed for
eternity. I knew how to say goodbye better than I knew how to say hello; I
couldn’t look into someone’s eyes for the first time without wondering
about the last time.
Throughout the centuries, I moved from city to city,
country to country, and I always knew my fate: ending up alone.
The only constant in my life was the thrum of hoofbeats, hay in my hair,
the smell of dirt on my boots, and the feeling of flying as my horse soared
over rails. I was home in the saddle of a horse; it was the only place I never
had to say goodbye.
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