I couldn’t start with the truth either and say,the ghost haunting my mother’s house has a crush on me, and I think I’m developing feelings for him, too.
No, if I want to open up my heart to Lachlan, scars and all, I can’t do it all in one night. I’ll have to break it into small, manageable pieces.
The sound of his keys landing on the buffet shudders through me.
“Hey, gorgeous. I didn’t think you’d come home.” He walks over to me and kisses the top of my head, sounding simply…smug.
Not happy that I’m here, exactly, but proud that he won the argument.
I grip the end of my braid. “My cousin gave me the night off, like you suggested.”
“Good lad.” He smiles faintly.
I don’t know what changed—like E put a spell on me and made all other voices sound disingenuous.
Or released me from the power of a love arrow,a small, timid voice in my head adds.
Maybe the attack on Kerri and the ensuing chaos somehow pulled me out of some magic-induced trance. I brace my arm around the back of the chair, angling my body to him as he searches the refrigerator for a beer.
When I look at him, all I feel is shame. Shame for not being the woman I pretended to be when we met, shame for a kiss I should have stopped before it happened. Shame for not listening to Mabel when she told me our love was brought on by a subpar love arrow and would vaporize at the first sign of trouble.
I can’t go on with the wedding, not as originally planned.
“I had to come home and speak with you. I’m afraid for Mabel’s life, and if I’m right, she won’t be well enough to attendthe wedding in a couple of weeks. I think we have to postpone,” I say.
It’s partially true. Mabel might die in Faerie, and as things are, she won’t be able to come.
“Postpone?” Lachlan enunciates.
Coward. You should have canceled the damn thing,my inner voice snickers. I can’t bring myself to say it. Cancelling the wedding means leaving my mortal life as it is, and it’s not only terrifying, it’s heartbreaking.
Everything I built, all the hard work, everything I hoped for…gone.
His jaw ticks, and he slams the unopened beer down on the kitchen island. “Are you serious? Don’t be stupid and let your foster mother derail our plans.”
A sharp sting blooms beneath my ribs, and I flinch. I hate how easily the insult burrows inside me, feeding every ugly question Mabel planted in my head. If the love we have is real, why does it feel so brittle?
“Derail our plans? She might die,” I choke. That part, at least, is true.
“You’re overreacting. I mean—she’s not your blood. Your brother cut her out of his life, and so should you. This sudden health issue so close to our wedding, when you know she doesn’t approve… It’s suspicious, luv. Call her tomorrow and tell her you’ll hire a nurse. Tell her we’re getting married with or without her,” he says, without taking a breath.
“Why did you propose to me?” I ask bluntly, thinking back to the day we met, to how improbable it was that a man like him would notice someone like me, let alone propose after five dates.
“What?”
“What made you propose so soon? You obviously don’t think my family is good enough, and you always change the subject when I try to tell you about my childhood.”
He scratches the back of his head, where the shorter, neatly trimmed hair meets the skin of his neck. “You’re smart and beautiful, Maxine. Career-driven, like me, and I know you’ll make a wonderful mother when the time comes. It’s impressive what you’ve accomplished, given your background.”
The words are soft and polite, but they feel wretched.
“My background?”
He gives a small shrug, like it’s obvious. “People like you don’t usually become doctors.”
Something cold settles in my chest.
“What are you saying?” I ask blankly. “That orphans can’t go to school?”
