“How unique this religion of yours is.”
“It’s more like a belief. A hope,” I said. “At least, that’s how I think of it. It’s enough for me most days. I focus mainly on introspection and looking for that sublime from things like my goddess. She’s a piece of the magic in the world, reaching out a hand when you need it. Most of the time, anyway.”
Other times, goddesses could be little terrors, pushing someone outside of their comfort zone and toward where they were meant to be alongside her in the world. I thought I’d first heard the wisps of the goddess and the energy that followed when I was twenty-four and crying every night for who and where I was. A little voice in my head screamed that I needed to run while I could—whether it was just me or the goddess, it didn’t matter.
I’d let myself trust that voice.
I felt the same essence in the darkness, walking home alone. Smelled it in the first blooms of spring and the first frost of winter. I felt it along with the urge not to wither every step of the way when Dom insisted on me breathing, living, continuing with him when the panic set in. All the way.
“Your magic sounds like a storybook.”
“What kind of fairy tales are you reading?” I teased, raising my eyebrows.
I shook my head, realizing I had stopped shuffling. Making sure I was focused on him, I shuffled once more before cupping the deck in my hands.
I flipped over three cards. A simple spread.
Reaching forward, I carefully turned over the first card. “The Lovers.”
I wanted to scoff, though I held it in—not well enough by the look on Dom’s face, however.
“I think we’ve covered that,” he said, hiding a sardonic smirk.
“The Lovers is a card that symbolizes choice,” I further explained, stopping him from reaching toward the next card to move on. If he wanted a reading, that was exactly what he was going to get. “It signals intimacy in a new or more premeditated relationship and a decision needing to be made, whether to move forward or step back, breaking the two apart.”
Dom stared down at the face card. “Oh.”
I stared at him for a moment, watching a new pensiveness take over his face before I took a deep breath. I turned over the middle card.
“Page of Pentacles,” Dom read the moment the next card was turned.
“Page of Pentacles,” I repeated. “Usually, when I give a reading, it is a student in town that pulls this card. Studious and reliable.”
“I’m not sure I’m either of those things currently.”
“There is a challenge when it comes to the Page. In this case, you or someone close to you is trying to overcome whatever it is they’re manifesting—their dreams for the future. Mistakes are often made to be learned from and what have you.” I tried to remember anything else that might have fit for Dom. I couldn’t think of anything. “Maybe you have been looking for stability and have been debating something that you need to seek knowledge about in order to reach your goal and feel fulfilled.”
“That’s all?” He chuckled, getting less thrilled by this reading every second.
“That’s always up to the person. One apparently with a lot of decisions.”
“Greeaat,” Dom intoned.
“Page of Pentacles is also sometimes used to symbolize a child, usually steady in emotion and presence, though that doesn’t track.” I shrugged.
Dom blinked, tipping his head down.
I flipped the final card.
“What?”
Shaking my head, I didn’t know what card I expected to see. The Devil? The Tower? Something to symbolize mass destruction was destined to sit between us. Instead lay, “Four of Wands.”
“That’s less conspicuous,” Dom commented.
“It’s a stable card. It usually means a homecoming or reunion is on the horizon, perhaps after coming through challenges and making hard choices. You’ll know what you need in the end. It’s a conclusion as well as a new beginning filled with joy.”
Not moving, I stared at the card for a long time, though only seconds must’ve passed.
