Page 20 of How Not to Date a Demon

And if it did work… well. Maeve hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Galen climbed down from the attic with a snuffle and a sneeze. “You know,” he said as he found his footing on the ladder, “when we agreed to downsize our things so we could move in together, I meant like, some of the fifty pairs of shoes you own. Not family heirlooms stored in the attic.”

“Hey, it’s still getting rid of stuff, isn’t it?” she called over her shoulder. His steps grew closer as he made his way down the ladder. The springs squeaked with each step, but he’d assured her they were sturdy. So if he fell from the ceiling, it wasn’t her fault.

Still, she breathed a sigh of relief as he began to fold the ladder up with a clatter of wood and screech of old metal.

“What’s in here anyway?” he asked, coming up behind her to look over her shoulder.

“Let’s find out,” she answered and opened the cardboard flaps.

First—lots of newspaper. That was all she saw at first, until she realized the newspaper was wrapped around fragile items. Porcelain baby dolls, a nativity scene.

“Oh, look! It’s my first bible,” she exclaimed. She pulled the baby blue book out, shimmery lined pages faded with age. Maeve handed it over to Galen who didn’t hesitate to take it from her, even flipping through the pages. No reaction.

Hmm.

“I thought you were an atheist?” he asked.

“I am. I was raised in the church though,” she explained. “To be honest I don’t remember a whole lot about the experience itself. Just stories the pastors and stuff would tell us. Oh, look!” she said, pulling out a cross that had hung in her grandmother’s living room throughout her whole childhood. She explained it to Galen as she ran a finger down the smooth wood. “Wow, I haven’t seen this in years.”

Leaning over, she held it out to him and pointed out a chip in the top corner. “I’m responsible for that,” she confessed.

Galen gasped dramatically. “What?! You heathen!”

Maeve couldn’t help her laugh. “That’s exactly what my grandmother said, before I had to scrub the bathroom tile with a toothbrush.”

He winced. “Oof.”

“Yeah…” Maeve shook her head and handed the item over. If anything, this relic would have the strongest emotional attachment to her. Which would make it more powerful, according to the website.

Time seemed to slow down as Galen reached out for it, long fingers extending innocently. Maeve held her breath as she held it out to him. His fingertips brushed it… and then he wrapped his hand around it and took it from her grip.

“It’s pretty,” he remarked before setting it down.

Maeve must have been looking at him weird. “What? You okay?”

She shook her head. “Yeah! Just thinking about…uh, her. Grandma,” she lied.

Sorry, Grandma.

Frustration laced through her. Galen was either an actor worthy of an Oscar, or—

Or there wasn’t anything wrong with him, and she just pushed her own emotional baggage onto him, which in turn would only create more trauma and damage their relationship—

Stop it!

Maeve released a sigh and halfheartedly unpacked the rest of the box.

And then Galen made her go through her shoes, which was offensive enough. Maybe she should just end things now.

Honestly.

“They are both black, short booties! Why do you need two pairs?” Galen asked.

“Because! One is leather and one is suede. They both send two very different messages.”

“Oh my god,” Galen said, exasperated, crossing his arms and dropping his head into one hand.