Jordan Fisher set his cane down beside him once he had eased himself onto the park bench. The waning gibbous moon was in full view above the trees as he leaned back and stared at the sky. He scratched his neatly trimmed beard and tried to relax while he waited. He pulled out his phone, his tanned skin illuminated by the screen as he scrolled through the feed of various social media apps. She should be there soon.

Even though it had been over a decade, he sometimes missed being able to conduct these rendezvous from his home. He often wondered why she never asked him to come to her, but decided after all this time to just leave it alone.

"How long have you been waiting?" Jordan looked up to the young woman who stood beside him and gave her a warm, welcoming smile. He shifted over, patting the spot beside him and she took a seat, lowering his phone to give her his undivided attention.

"Not long, Irene." Jordan reached his arm along the back of the bench, resting a hand on her opposite shoulder. Irene smiled faintly, staring at the empty playground.

"It'd be nice if I could actually watch the children play..."

Jordan chuckled, lifting his phone and opening a photo app. "I've got some new pictures to share. Monty insists he is too old for playgrounds, but I know he still loves to swing. He's turning twelve, and is very precocious."

Irene moved in closer, looking over the pictures of a happy family, her own eyes growing distant as she stared at a picture of a woman holding the hands of two children. "It amazes me how much Amber has filled out. She looks so happy and healthy," she remarked, taking the phone and scrolling at her own pace. "Always seemed so odd you two got together."

"Yeah, I didn't expect it either. But it's nice to have someone I don't have to keep secrets from, especially after the disaster with Connie."

Irene lowered the phone. "But you do love her, don't you?"

Jordan gave her a sideways look, withdrawing his arm. "Of course I do. I didn't mean it to sound like that." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "We're both broken, but we keep each other whole," Jordan reflected, gingerly taking back his phone and looking at a picture of Amber His finger rested on that picture before he swiped it closed.

"As long as you're happy, I'm... content." Irene rose to her feet. "Well, shall we walk?"

Jordan grabbed his cane. Complications from his injuries had left permanent damage, and his gait was heavily affected. But with this simple aid, he could keep pace with Irene's brisk walk as they headed into a shady path, disappearing into the dark. Sometimes he was a little envious of Irene's ability to heal. He never saw her during the worst of it, but he'd learned she had been burnt beyond recognition. No human would have survived it. But Irene was no longer human.

"I'm glad her and Monty get along well. After her postpartum difficulties, I was always worried she'd reject him."

Jordan cleared his throat. "Her second pregnancy was a lot smoother, but she loves both of the boys."

"It's the life I could have had. But I have the next best thing. I do enjoy the e-mails you send all about them. When they are older, I would like to meet them."

"I'd like that too. I think you would have made a good mother if circumstances were different."

"I'm not so sure about that. I think I'd make a better aunt or bossy big sister." Irene chuckled, and Jordan joined in.

"So... how are things with Layla?" Jordan asked politely once the laughter tapered off naturally.

Irene rolled her shoulders back. "She's going to England, to rejoin Cyrus." Irene's face wrinkled, her dislike of Cyrus still strong. Jordan coughed and looked off to the side, an uncomfortable smile forming. "Although she sounded as though she'd rather go to Egypt. But it's better if they must reunite, that she goes to him, because if he comes back here, I will kill him."

The nervous smile faded and Jordan cleared his throat. The idea of Irene killing anyone, even another vampire, made his stomach churn. But if he had the power to, he'd kill Cyrus himself. He needed to mind his blood pressure, so it was time for a change in topic. "So... how do vampires travel overseas?" He reached up at a low hanging branch, plucking off a delicate white blossom.

"Uncomfortably, if they can't afford private charters for overnight flights. It takes a lot of planning. An oddly common yet highly complicated practice is to go into rigor and be shipped as remains." Irene chuckled softly and shook her head. "It's really too much of a hassle. I'm content to stay put." After they had walked far enough to be entirely enshrouded in the dark, they stepped off of the trail and looked around. "Here's good."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Jordan nodded and held up his hand to Irene, bracing himself. It was never pleasant, no matter what he felt for his childhood sweetheart. His knuckles went white as he gripped his cane tight, her teeth piercing his wrist. "One of these days I'm going to smother my wrist with a topical anesthetic first."

Irene didn't respond right away as she continued to drink. Once she was finished, she licked the wound until it healed up. She then looked up."You keep saying that, and never do."

Jordan leaned his cane against a nearby tree and rubbed his wrist. "Ah well, maybe next time I'll remember."

"You keep saying that, too," she remarked with a more genuine smile.

Jordan snatched up his cane. "And one day, it'll be more than just words." He grinned. He placed his free arm around Irene's shoulder, and she leaned into it. "Have you seen Merle's latest post?"

"No, I've been distancing myself from social media. It just depresses me." Irene glanced away as they walked back to the playground. "What crazy conspiracy theory is she spinning now?"

"Actually, it was to announce that she's engaged," Jordan said, his tone turning somber.

"Oh. Again?" Irene holded her arms and looked away. "Well, I wish her luck this time." She kicked a random stone that lay in their path.

"I think she's got a good chance this time. This time she isn't hooking up with someone she met from rehab." Jordan paused as they stepped back into the open, staring up at the clear sky.

"Well, she deserves some peace after everything she's been through. And speaking of peace, do you think you could put some flowers on my father's grave for me next week? It's the anniversary of his death. I don't feel right breaking into a cemetery to do it."

Jordan's hand found Irene's. "Of course I will." For a moment they both stood there, staring at the sky side by side in a silence that spoke more than words.

Jordan gazed down at the ground, his stomach fluttering. "Irene, speaking of your father..."

"Yes?"

Jordan cleared his throat noisily, still looking away. "As you know, we kept in contact after, well, after your funeral. The thing is, sometime after he died, I received a package."

"Oh?"

"Yes..." Jordan looked up at Irene who had her head tilted curiously. "It contained things like photos and cards and letters I'd sent you. But it also had, um, your journal."

Irene's eyebrows furrowed pensively and it was her turn to look at the ground. A silence followed until she broke it with the question, "...did you read it?"

Jordan cleared his throat again and rubbed the back of his neck. "I was going to give it to you, but my curiosity got the better of me. I'm sorry. That's a violation of your..." Jordan trailed off. Irene remained silent. Jordan sucked in some air, leaning heavily on his cane. "I didn't read everything. But I did read your last entry."

Irene looked up, her eyes widening a moment. Her mouth moved as if to speak, but no words came. She looked down again, giving a nod for him to continue.

"I always thought, when you mentioned the burns you had to recover from, that it was from the fire you were in when you were shot. I had no idea that you... that you..."

"Tried to kill myself?" Irene interrupted sharply.

"What happened?" Jordan asked. "I mean, you're here. So either you changed your mind or it... didn't work."

"I had a change of heart. But that was after the sun rose. Layla must have followed me, because she threw a blanket over me and dragged me inside." Irene's nose wrinkled. "I took too long to realise I was only doing that to hurt Cyrus, but that was naive of me to think it would."

Jordan swallowed hard, listening to yet another horror story from Irene's experiences. Regret filled him. All those years ago Irene had tried to express to him the danger she was in. And while he believed in her, he didn't quite understand the severity of it. And he was unable to protect her. His knuckles cracked as he gripped his cane harder. "I wish I could have been there for you."

"Even if you were, there's nothing you could have done," Irene answered resolutely. "I'm not going to dwell on the past, and neither should you." Irene put her hand over his balled fist, and he relaxed it. "Besides, you're here now. That's what matters."

Jordan swallowed the lump forming in his throat and nodded. The both of them took in more mutual silence, letting a cool spring breeze blow away the bitterness and revitalise them with the scent of blossoms and new growth.

"I should be going. Amber usually waits up for me, and we both have work in the morning." Jordan grimaced. "Another grind at the office."

"I always thought your brain would be wasted playing hockey," Irene remarked, arching her eyebrows. Jordan snorted and then laughed, looking at her with playful reproach. He was grateful for the levity to chase away the last licks of sorrow.

"It's wasted in pointless meetings instead. Well. I better go. Take care, Irene." Jordan said, and with a hobbled step, he set off towards the parking lot.

Jordan was always relieved to see Irene, most of all, to see her smile. She'd been broken for a long time. Although he understood she was already on borrowed time, and though he was happily married, a part of him never could let her go. It was a strange arrangement he had, but it worked for him. But he wondered how much longer things would continue this way. For the time, both of them had carved out some sort of peace, and he cherished it. Jordan looked over his shoulder, seeing Irene sitting on the bench. But in a blink, she was gone.