For a moment, I see past the betrayal and hurt to the person I fell for, the person I thought I could trust.
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding my mind. “Chad, I don’t—”
“Just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands. “I miss you, Hannah. I missus.”
I hesitate, the words caught in my throat as he reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a small rectangular box.
“I got you something.” He takes my hand and sets the box against my palm. His touch is warm and familiar, and despite myself, I feel a pang of longing.
I open the box with numb fingers. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, is a key fob.
I stare at it, my mind racing to make sense of what I’m seeing. “What—what is this?”
“It’s access to my apartment. To me.” He smiles, that same charming smile that used to make me melt. “No more Stuart. No more texting before you come over. No more living”—he gestures around my apartment, the mismatched furniture and shabby decor suddenlyfeeling even more inadequate—“like this. Move in with me, Hannah.”
The offer hangs in the air between us. This is a chance to start over, to rebuild my life and become exactly who I thought I wanted to be.
Yet a part of me is running, running back to Towerfall, back to the other half of my heart.
Before I can respond, he slips his strong arms around me and pulls me into a hug. At first, I resist, my body stiff and unyielding against his. But as the seconds tick by, I sink into his warmth.
His arms tighten around me, and I let them. I close my eyes and lose myself in the scent of his cologne, the feel of his breath against my hair. I let him hold me, the weight of my worries lifting just a little.
And for a brief fragile moment, I also let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be different.
“This is going to be great.” Chad’s voice vibrates against my cheek, echoing the sentiment I’m starting to feel myself. It’s delicate and thin, but I cling to the line of hope, desperate for something to hold. “I don’t suppose you have a bottle you can pop so we can celebrate the occasion?”
“Let me check.” I smile, my cheeks hot, my head already spinning.
I open the fridge and wrinkle my nose. The only options are an old bottle of wine that’s definitely turned to vinegar by now and a lone can of sparkling water.
“I knew I was wrong about you, Hannah. I knew it the minute you left and Celine launched into this speech about some psychological theory on the benefits of being an independent woman.”
“Oh?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the can, distracted by my utter lack of food.
“Yeah,” he continues, settling onto the worn couch as if he belongs here, as if nothing has changed. “It made me realize how much I appreciate you. How much I need someone who’s down to earth and not caught up in all that nonsense.”
As I trail him into the living room, my gaze snags on the floor—on the tarot card.
The Empress stares back at me with wisdom and strength that I suddenly crave. Her expression seems to change, disappointment flashing across her face before fading.
I bend down and pick it up, the card warm in my hand, its edges glowing faintly.
If you hold the card again and command her to return you here, to Pentacles, you will be at the mercy of the Tower. I cannot cast this spell a second time…
I take a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs and steadying my nerves.
“I realized that women with ambition are a lot of work. I know you’ll be happy just being with me. You’re easy.” Chad leans back, stretching out his legs. “It’s nice. It’s refreshing. I can see myself marrying a girl like you. Not right now or anything. I mean, let’s take things one step at a time—”
“Easy?” I repeat, my hold tightening on the card.
“Yeah, you know, low-maintenance. Not like those high-strung career chicks. It’s justeasierwith you.”
The words are casual and light, as if he’s offering a compliment.
Chad reaches for the can, but I pull it back.
“No,” I say, my voice unwavering.
