The Patch Keeper - N. J. Simmons

Nome: The Patch Keeper
Autor: N. J. Simmons
Lançamento: 2018
ISBN  9781619636101
Páginas: 378
Edição: Inglês

E se toda coincidência fosse um pequeno milagre? E se a nossa vida já estivesse mapeada antes do nascimento? E se alguém tivesse o poder de mudar o caminho que estávamos destinados a seguir?

Ella odeia sua nova vida em Londres, ela sente falta da Espanha e está lutando para superar seu passado até conhecer Zac. Ele sempre a amou, mas ele não deveria fazer parte da história de Ella. Não dessa vez. Jamais. Mal sabe ela que seu segredo é a única coisa que os separará e a obrigará a viver em um mundo que não faz mais sentido, um mundo mais perigoso do que ela jamais poderia imaginar.

O primeiro de uma emocionante série de fantasia YA, The Path Keeper é um conto de paixão e segredos, de primeiros amores e segundas oportunidades, e os fios invisíveis que nos ligam. Pode o amor ser mais forte que o destino?

Esse livro me chamou a atenção no NetGallery por causa de uma única palavra: "Patch". Meu Patch de Sussuro, da Becca Fitzpatrick, meu terceiro crush literário. O tema (anjos) também foi um dos motivos da minha escolha e sempre gostei de ler sobre eles, seja nas mitologias, seja na ficção literária.

O livro me lembra a série Fallen, da autora Kate Lauren, onde o Daniel e a Luci eram apaixonados em cada vida, mas sempre que eles se beijavam, a Luci virava cinzas. E em todas as vidas eles se encontram. Neste livro as vidas de três personagens são interligadas (além de Zadkiel ser a ligação entre eles) e a autora narra dois episódios em que elas se interligam. Uma durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial e a outra alguns anos depois.

Zac, ou melhor, Zadkiel, é um nephilim (filho de um anjo com uma humana) que olha pela vida de Ella em todas as vidas na qual ela já viveu. Sua mãe, Felicity, também sempre esteve interligada à Ella. O livro aborda temas religiosos que podem causar polêmicas, tanto que vi a autora falando disso na conta do twitter dela. O que é abordado polemicamente é que Deus não existe e quem cuida do céu são os Arcanjos, sendo Mikhael o líder deles.

Há uma lenda de origem chinesa que fala sobre um fio vermelho invisível que une as pessoas que estão predestinadas a ficar juntas, independentemente do tempo, lugar ou circunstância. O fio pode esticar ou emaranhar-se, mas nunca irá partir. Ou seja, em algum momento da vida, essas almas gêmeas vão se encontrar. E esse é o tema principal do livro.

Ella se muda para Londres quando sua mãe se casa com um dos empresários da área hoteleira mais ricos do planeta. Ela e sua mãe era bem ligadas, mas quando Felicity se casa com Richard, tudo muda e Ella se sente renegada por sua mãe, por ter que sair da Espanha para seguir sua mãe e o padrasto até Londres. Apesar de ter uma vida boa, ter tudo que quiser, Ella não se sente deslocada, como se sua vida não tivesse sentido. Um dia, ela desce do ônibus cheia de livros e com uma das sacolas rasgada. Há um homem no ponto de ônibus e ela pede ajuda para ele. O estranho acha estranho que ela esteja falando com ele. Ele é Zadkiel, o nephilim responsável por manter Ella na linha do destino dela. Não era para ela poder vê-lo e nem para ele ser envolver com ela.

Confesso que a Ella é uma personagem irritante, insuportável, daquelas que você quer largar o livro, porque não aguenta os chiliques dela. Tudo tem que ser do jeito dela ou ela faz drama. Sério, não sei como Zac aguentou o livro todo.

A leitura fluiu quando a autora conta a história de Eve, Dolly e Ted na Londres de 1940 e depois a história de Margaret Montgomey-White em Hampshire, 1973. Ambas as histórias estão ligadas à história de Ella e Zac. Conforme eu lia, os fatos iam se encaixando e os plot twist foram acontecendo. Mas a Ella continuava cheia de dramas. Acho que me acostumei com personagens femininas que não são dependentes de homens e não fazem dramas de "Oh, não conseguirei viver sem você".

O livro é clichê e não clichê. É clichê por causa do romance Anjo + Humana Adolescente. Mas não é clichê por abordar uma outra vista sobre religião, destino e ressurreição, onde as vidas das pessoas se encontram de uma forma ou de outra vida após vida.

É um boa leitura para quem gosta de romances Young Adult, fantasia e sobrenatural. Tirando é claro, todo o drama e chilique da Ella.

O livro vai ser oficialmente lançado no dia 28 de Maio.

Quotes

 

Didn’t they realise the present didn’t exist? That it was nothing but a monotonous treadmill pulling them along, tripping them up and dragging them into a future they hadn’t yet created? But the past was always there, waiting; it never hurried. The past was a safe place, a private space where every story lay holding all the clues and all their answers.

‘Was that Spanish you were speaking?’ he asked after they had been walking for a few minutes. ‘Yeah, sorry, it just slips out when I’m a bit, um…stressed.’

‘Your surname is Santiago de los Rios. Rios means Rivers, doesn’t it? Restless, yet beautiful. It suits you.’ He smiled.

He liked the way she used her hands when she spoke, each word illustrated by a twist of a wrist or a flutter of fingers. He wanted to take her hand, feel her fingers intertwine with his.

That guy could have been a serial murderer, and there she was walking alongside him like a naïve idiot.

His eyes were unreal, bright blue turning to lilac when the sun hit them. Some girls would have had the balls to ask for his number—it’s not every day a hot guy randomly talks to you—but he didn’t seem interested, not in that way. Anyway, it was too late now. He was gone.

Tuscany, a place she had always felt a spiritual connection to even though she had never been to Italy.

It looked impressive, but the clip-clopping of heels against the shiny tiles put Ella on edge and made the place appear cold and impersonal. It felt like a grand hotel, although considering Richard’s profession, that wasn’t surprising.

‘Don’t worry, my life is still pathetic. No need to get excited. I’ve just had an interesting journey home, that’s all.’ How did her mum always know when she was crushing on someone? She thought of Zac and the curl of his lip when he smiled, how his hand had felt in hers and the way he’d stared at her until she’d teetered on the edge of discomfort. This was ridiculous; she needed to get out more. She felt her cheeks grow warm when she remembered asking if she knew him—bloody idiot! London was a huge place, and she knew no one, so why would she know him? And why was her heart still racing?

And please don’t wear those jeans again. You have plenty of clothes; those make your bottom look huge, sweetie.’ Ella counted in her head, promising that if she could get to her bedroom before she reached twenty, she wouldn’t scream. It hadn’t always been this bad. Before England, before Richard, her mum had been normal. On Ella’s sixteenth birthday, it had all changed.

‘Imagine what it would be like to be here with a man who adores you, walking hand in hand along that path. See the one that leads to those steps? He’d lead you down to the beach, holding your hand as you made your way to the bay.

(...) there are things in this world we will never understand. Things beyond our control. What is meant to be is written in the stars and I have grown to accept it.’

How Ella wished that she’d made the most of that night. What would she have said to her mother had she known it was to be the last time she would have her to herself? What would have happened had her mother gone to the bathroom with her or they’d gone home early?

‘I wish I hadn’t been wrong about you and Josh. You kinda match, you know? Should we hunt him down?’ Ella couldn’t help laughing. Maybe Kerry wasn’t so bad. Maybe if she was to make any friends in this fucked-up city, she had to give people a chance.

‘Did you know that according to Extreme Magazine, we were an item last summer? It was very cruel of you to dump me for a football player when we were so madly in love.’ He sat back and laughed, two dimples appearing in his cheeks. ‘Nice to meet you at last.’

She tried to stand and fell back but was caught before she hit the floor. ‘Whoa, Rivers, there you go falling at my feet again.’ Ella stood up quickly and adjusted her dress. ‘Zac? Shit! What are you doing here? What are you…I mean, how…You remember me?’

(...)

‘How could I forget the girl with a face of an angel and the mouth of a sailor?’

This was too weird. People didn’t just randomly bump into each other in a city as big as London.

She was buzzing, and everyone around her was grinning too, like they were high on life itself.

Kerry stopped dead, her gaze travelling over Ella’s head to someone behind her. ‘So, Rivers, this is where you’ve been hiding.’ Ella jumped up and threw her arms around Zac’s neck, burying her face into his hair and breathing in his peppery scent. Shit! What was she doing? She had to be drunk or high on whatever this bar pumped out. She hardly knew the guy—why was she throwing herself at him?

‘How do you do that?’ ‘Do what?’ ‘Appear out of nowhere every time I’m thinking of you.’ ‘Maybe that’s because you’re always thinking of me.’

He thought back to the others. No one knew how many there were—he’d never counted, and there had been far too many to start keeping track now. None had been as complicated as Ella, but she wasn’t like the others—she never had been. He sighed. He could see she had recollections of him, but he took comfort in the knowledge that she would never really remember him, not properly. His secret would always be safe because he was the only one with the power to tell her.

She thought they could be friends, maybe even more than that, but she was clearly fooling herself. This wasn’t some fairy tale where the pauper got his princess.

She smiled and closed her own eyes. A moment later, she felt a kiss on the crown of her head. She snuggled in closer and sighed. She must have imagined it.

‘In aeternum te amabo,’ he murmured before walking away.

‘Enjoying the view?’ She jumped, and he gave her a lazy smile through half-closed eyes. ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ she said. ‘No, unfortunately I can’t hear your thoughts from here.’

Did you know when you present a person with a rose that its colour has a certain meaning?’ Ella shook her head. ‘Red for romance, yellow for friendship, and white for sympathy.’ ‘And purple?’ she muttered. He licked a smear of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. ‘Love at first sight.’ ‘I didn’t know that.’ ‘Evidently.’

‘I’m not your friend, Rivers. I’m your project. I don’t need this…this…attention.’

‘What are you doing?’ she said. ‘It’s not what I’m doing that’s the problem; it’s what I’m not doing.’ He placed a hand on either side of her face. ‘There’s one thing I need before I leave.’ He tipped her face to meet his and kissed her. Their mouths molded perfectly to one another’s, his tongue parting her lips until she could taste the salt from her tears. She closed her eyes and melted into him, her arms hanging limply by her side. All too quickly, he stopped,

(...)

‘I didn’t want it to end this way,’ he said. ‘But it should never have begun.’

He pulled up his hood, shielding himself, and kept on walking. Of course he hadn’t been insulted by her help—he’d just been waiting for an opportunity, an excuse, to leave behind the mess he had started. That was it, it was over. He’d finally walked away from her, his mission, and his unspeakable desire for the girl he couldn’t have.

I’d always been a believer in love. Real true love. You know, the toe-curling, chest heaving kind what you get in books and them American films. I weren’t naïve; I knew love could hurt, but I never knew it could kill.

‘What we got here then? Give us a twirl, Señorita,’ he said, and I did. I went round and round like one of them ballerinas, each time seeing his smile getting wider and Evie’s face growing darker.

You never know what you might get, and when it finally comes, you ain’t never ready for it.

Ted started looking at her in a funny way. He weren’t looking at her like you do when you look at someone; he was watching her like you do a stranger you think you recognise or like she was some rare and beautiful bird and he was too scared to move in case she flew away.

Fifty-seven nights in a bloody row them Germans threw bombs at us. We was living down our shelters most of the time.

He’d held my hand hundreds of times as kids when we was playing, but when his fingers brushed mine, I shivered. I know he noticed ‘cause he was smiling at me like he was a cat and I was a mouse. I thought he was gonna pounce on me onto them sacks of flour behind me, and I wouldn’t have minded. Not one bit. I always dreamed my true love would be a tall, dark stranger from some exotic land, but he weren’t. He had known me all my life and was standing right in front of me.

‘Dolores,’ he sighed, and then he kissed me. It was the most sweetest kiss I’ve ever had. He was tender, his lips warm and soft, his hand holding mine while the other rested on my waist. I felt like an overripe strawberry what he was tasting for the first time.

I reckon once you find that one person, the one, there ain’t nothing what’s difficult no more.

‘Them socks are just like us,’ he said.

I wrinkled my nose and said, ‘What, stinky?’ which made him laugh.

‘No, a perfect pair. You and me, the only ones what fit together. Can’t just have one sock can you? Without the other it would be useless.’

I knew in that kiss, on that magical day, that I was gonna be with this man for the rest of my life, and we was going to get our own ‘happy ever after.’

Two weeks before, a load of bombs had gone and destroyed eight fancy churches and the Guildhall in the City. Hundreds died. Course, four months ago was when all the bombs had really rained down. No one knew what to do with themselves, and there weren’t no one who didn’t know someone what had been killed or hurt. Dolly’s old man and mine talked about sending us away, keeping us safe, but the truth was there weren’t nowhere we could have gone. We were grown ladies, not kiddy evacuees. So we done what Churchill told us to and toughened it out, acted like nothing was happening to our dear old London Town. We just carried on as normal, moaning about the cost of a loaf.

I had just rounded the corner of Victoria Street when I felt two strong arms wrap themselves round my waist from behind and spin me round. Blimey, I thought I was a goner. I went to scream but was stopped with a kiss. ‘Bloody hell, Ted!’ I shouted. ‘You nearly gave me a bleeding heart attack; you scared the living daylight out of me.’

I want to dedicate my life to making you happy. I am going to shower you with gifts every day, show you the world like the princess you are.

That’s what that was, a huge pile of people waiting to die like rats scrambling on top of each other to find an inch of space to call their own.

The dust was clearing, and through a small gap in the rubble, I could make out some shapes. Strange thing it is to see people lying face down, and even stranger to see legs when they ain’t no longer at the end of a body. Everyone was the same colour, all dark grey and very still.

I looked deep into them eyes, knowing they was the last thing I was ever gonna see. But that was OK; they was lovely. Then I remembered him, who he was and what was meant to be. The one I loved. All that other stuff, life and all its dramas, it never mattered no more—it never had. He smiled at me, those cornflower eyes creasing at the corners. Then he spoke. ‘It’s all right, Evie. I’m here and I won’t leave you. I promise.’ And you know what? He never did. He was there with me until the very end. Then he carried me Home.

ZAC HAD KISSED her. His words had killed her, but his kiss had brought her back to life. Ella had felt his pain, his regret, but most of all his need for her. It had been the closest she’d got to discovering his truth, and now he was gone.

Zac watched Ella every day. The invisible ties between them were keeping him anchored, and it was impossible to do anything but stay.

They would never understand that he was simply waiting for the day Ella stopped wearing his baggy grey sweatshirt, as that would be the day she could survive without him, and he could return Home.

He laughed like a donkey with laryngitis.

Felicity could only ever be one person at a time; now she was Richard’s wife, she was everything she thought he wanted, and she’d forgotten what it was to be Ella’s mother too.

He’d never lied to her, but he still wasn’t prepared to tell her the truth. Whatever happened, that would remain hidden.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ he said. ‘I don’t just like you. I have literally, completely and utterly fallen for you. I love you. I’ve loved you longer than you can imagine. My heart doesn’t beat if you aren’t beside me. I can’t breathe if I can’t speak your name. I feel nothing without your touch, and to look at you, well, that is my very reason for being.’ She held her breath, not daring to move. What was he talking about?

‘From the moment you spoke to me, I’ve tried to resist you,’ he said. ‘I have tried to do the right thing, but I’m not sure what that is anymore. How can anything that feels this right be wrong?’ (...) ‘Ella, there has only ever been you. Day, night, before, now, the future…it has always been you.’

(...)

She could feel how much he wanted her. She hooked her finger beneath the fold of his towel, and his lips smiled against hers. ‘You sure?’ he breathed, his voice thick with longing.

Nobody had ever made her feel like that before.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited to love you,’ he said.

Light and love, that’s what they were now, that’s what we all are in the end.