Page 79 of Meet Cute Magic

“I was.” The two words are so small, infinitesimal in the grandness of this moment, but with them, something in me cracks, painful breaks that go to places I know no form of magic will heal before the first tear falls.

The moment feels so similar to the dozens of heartbreaks I’ve experienced over the years, yet it is different.

Worse.

It’s not only heartbreak, it’s betrayal of a friend.

“Why?” I ask in a whisper, and he watches the tear move down my cheek, his hand lifting as if to try and wipe it, but I shift away, taking a step back.

He does not have that right. He lost it when he lied to me.

“No. Do not touch me. Do not touch me, Jack, not when you’re fucking me over like this. Why are you doing this? We’ve spent six weeks side by side on this mission, trying to break this terrible curse on my family. The curse that’s ruining my life. That’s stopping my sisters from finding their true love. God, my grandmother has been single for as long as I can remember because of it. Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to take this from me? Do you really hate me that much?” A realization hits me so hard, I’m surprised I don’t physically stagger from the blow. “Oh my god. Was this all… was this your plan all along? I thought we kind of eased away from you hating me, but maybe I was wrong? This was your opportunity for payback in the biggest way and—”

“No. No, Rosie,” he cuts me off before taking a step closer to me. I take one back to maintain the distance I desperately need between us, and a flash of hurt moves through him.

Good. He deserves it.

He shakes his head once more but doesn’t come closer. “No, Rosie. I never hated you. Never. Even when I wanted to, I couldn’t find it in me to actually hate you.”

“Then why are you doing this?” I ask, a plea in the words. A moment passes, and Jack runs a hand through his hair before throwing his hands up into the air, looking distraught.

“Because… because… because I’m in love with you!” he shouts, and with those words, everything in my universe shifts. I hear nothing but the blood rushing in my ears, my vision narrows to see only Jack and the look of utter devastation on his face.

In any other situation, a man confessing his feelings for me would be anything but devastating. But now, with so much making that confession not just messy, but impossible, it breaks something in me.

“No,” I whisper as my face falls, shaking my head. “You’re…” A sigh leaves my lips as I understand slowly. “No, Jack. You’re not. You’re not in love with me.” Take it back, I want to say. Take it back. We can pretend you never said it. We can—

“I am, and I’ve known it for some time. And you love me, too, Rosie, even if you’re too scared to tell me. I’ve been holding it in, but what’s the point? I love you, and all I can think about is how desperately I don’t want you to break that curse.” My jaw slackens as his words hit me, each one feeling both painful and beautiful.

“Why?” I whisper, though it’s a silly question, one I already know the answer to. One he answers anyway, though.

“Because once your curse is broken, it means that this?” He waves a hand between us. “Will be over. You’ll have a fresh slate, and this will be erased.”

“Jack—”

“I know to my bones, Rosie, that when that happens, there will never be anyone else for me. It’s you. It’s always been you. But in less than a week, you’ll be able to finally fall in love without worrying, and you’ll meet your true love and get that happily ever after you’re chasing, and I’ll be here, heartbroken and watching from the sidelines.”

That dread twines around my chest, tightening like a painful vice around my heart as realization hits.

The kiss bond is taking over his common sense, and my magic is to blame. My biggest fear in showing my magic to someone I cared about is coming to life before my eyes.

“It’s not real,” I say, my heart breaking in two and wondering if somehow the curse has expanded to thoughts, if thinking that I’m in love with Jack was enough to ignite the curse. “It’s my magic. It’s the kiss bond. I told you, I’ve never done it long term or had sex while bonded. Maybe it just creates more intense feelings. You’re not in love with me, Jack. You’re just under a spell.” My heart continues to break with the realization of what’s happening. Somehow, this conclusion is even more painful than the idea of him hating me all along and wanting to sabotage me.

This version feels so, so close to something I want—something I’ve always wanted, to be loved and seen and adored, but is just a facade. A spell he’s under.

My magic is once again playing tricks on me.

“You’re in love with my magic, not me,” I explain, annoyance joining the hurt. Good. I’d rather feel this new bubbling indignation than the familiar heartbreak. My mom warned us, of course, about revealing our ways to nonmagical people. It could create complicated emotions, make people more into your magic than they are into you as a person. It always felt like some kind of parental warning that didn’t have much validity, but now I’m faced with that exactly. “I am not my magic, Jack. I—”

“I’m not in love with your magic, Rosie. This happened long before the bond. Your magic didn’t make me fall—I think that’s just fate and something that I’d been ignoring forever. The bond just gave me the push I needed, the excuse to look at things and see them for what they really were.” My brows furrow, and I stare at him, confusion and irritation mingling in my veins. “The bond is simply why I can’t live in denial anymore. It’s why I can’t just let you break this spell and ruin what we have between us, forget about us.”

I sigh at his words, a small fraction of relief, before I shake my head, forcing reality to enter once more. “It’s the bond. It’ll fade, Jack.” It tastes like a lie on my lips, though, something that, for the smallest moment, I contemplate. But that pesky voice of reality pipes in, telling me this isn’t anything but my mind romanticizing the past few weeks of having his attention. His help with my shop, going on our quests together, helping him with his event, the groundbreaking sex, and my sisters’ liking him have all turned into some grand gesture in my mind. I should be embarrassed by it, really.

But also, somewhere beneath the rubble, there’s a glimmering spot of joy that he listened to the book I mentioned just because he knew I liked it. A small, sweet, hopeful voice reminds me that he wanted to get to know me and my hobbies. I can’t think of another man I’ve dated that felt that way, that ever took that extra step. Someone willing to set his own prejudices and ego aside to give something I enjoyed a shot.

But reality tinges that with bitterness as well. How did I not realize my standards were on the floor, never expecting someone I dated and loved to at least attempt something I was interested in, something I’d devoted my entire life to?

“This has nothing to do with your magic, nothing to do with any kind of kiss bond. It’s been brewing for years between us; I was just too stubborn to realize it. I knew before I asked for the second bond that I was falling for you.”