In a small voice, she utters, “What if I make the wrong one?”
“Then you learn from it and try to do better next time,” I reply. “It’s all we can ask of ourselves.”
“Sounds like I’m not the only one that could use that advice,” she points out.
I release a breathy chuckle. “Haven’t you heard? It’s always easier to give advice than take it.”
She laughs, then confesses, “Both Connor and Donovan have told me not to tell Nolan about all this. They’re worried he’ll freak out, but keeping it a secret feels wrong. Like I don’t trust him, but I do.”
My hand slides down her hair. “Do you think telling him is for his benefit or yours?”
She startles at this and pulls back to look up at me. “I don’t understand. He’s my friend… and you’re supposed to be honest with your friends.”
“Yet for Felix’s entire life, we had to keep the fact we were supernatural creatures a secret from him,” I counter, my eyes locked with hers.
“But that’s different,” she insists, a frown tugging at her features. “You didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” I answer, weary from a lifetime of keeping secrets from nearly every person I know. “And though I think Felix has forgiven us, it doesn’t mean he believes we made the correct choice.”
“Something bad would’ve happened if he knew though, right? It’s like a supernatural law,” she questions, her lips pressed tight and clearly worried I’m about to change the rules on her again.
I nod. “If the coven found out, yes, it could’ve been bad. At a bare minimum, a spell would’ve been cast over him and his family to forget us completely, then probably move them far away from here. I don’t know what would’ve happened to us.”
“So to keep and protect your friend, you had to…” She groans, “Lie to him. You think I should keep it from Nolan too.”
“I think you should do whatever you think is right,” I reply, going back to massaging her back. “Just consider why it’s so important for you to tell him now.”
Callie scrunches up her nose in a playful pout. “But that’s hard. See earlier complaint about being unsure about making the right choices.”
“As my mom would say, ‘That’s life’,” I answer with a shrug.
She sticks her tongue out, then drops her forehead against my chest. “Life’s hard,” she huffs.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” I agree, wrapping my arms tight around her and giving her a gentle squeeze.
“Speaking of hard choices,” she sighs heavily. “It’s time. One way or another, we have to help Felix move on. I know you don’t want to be the reason he’s not with us, but it’s not fair for him to keep existing this way.”
Shock pulses through me and with one hand, I cup her face, urging her to look at me. I need to see her eyes. I need to know what she’s thinking. “What do you mean it isn’t fair? Has he said something to you?”
She shakes her head, biting her lip. “No, but I’ve seen it on his face. When someone walks through him. When he wants to say something but knows he won’t be heard. When he forgets and reaches out to touch something only to go through it. It’s like watching his sense of self die.”
My chest feels tight and aches at the same time. I have no response, my words stuck in my throat.
She sniffs, her eyes wet and the color of storms, then continues, not done with how far we’ve failed him… I’ve failed him. “He’s lonely, but never alone because the only places he’s allowed to go are where you guys are-- or where he died. Think about that. Imagine existing each day as he does. Seeing the sun but not feeling its heat on your skin. Having to search your memories for what food tastes like or flowers smell like. Not able to talk to new people or experience new things. Literally only allowed to watch the world go by. He can’t even dream because he can’t sleep.” Tears start dripping down her face. “I don’t want him to go, but I know what it feels like to be cut off from the world. He doesn’t deserve that. His family is waiting, and he has a chance to be reborn.”
Shame eats at my insides, and I drop my forehead against hers. “I knew what I was doing was selfish,” I breathe, the words difficult to get past the lump in my throat. “I just… didn’t want to let my friend go.”
Her hands slip from my waist to up around my neck, her fingers delicately cradling the back of my head. “I don’t want to let him go either, but… we have to do better.”
“Okay,” I sigh, our warm breath mingling together with each exhale. “If the recent fire doesn’t lead to anything, I’ll try to help him move past his need to find the murderers. Remind him his family is still out there waiting for him.”
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she offers, her hand now drifting to the side of my face. “I’ll help in any way I can.”
Grief and fear pull at my body, and I worry this will be my life. A never-ending cascade of letting people go. “The guys are going to hate me.”
Callie shakes her head, her nose barely brushing against mine. “No, they won’t. I won’t let them. I’ve noticed that you all get squirmy under my serious face stare.”
I laugh though it’s not really much more than an exhale of air, then press my lips against her forehead, holding the rest of her tight against me.
