Page 81 of Meet Cute Magic

I can’t risk it.

“We can find another way, Rosie. A way to get my grandfather to the other side without erasing this, without the curse being touched.” When I look at him, he’s so hopeful. He wants that, to find another way, to leave the curse in place, to…

“No,” I whisper. His jaw goes firm.

“What if it’s me, Rosie? What if I’m your person? What happens when you get the curse broken? We just pretend there’s nothing between us. I lo—”

“Don’t say it,” I plead, knowing the words he’s about to say. He steps closer and grabs my hands, my eyes watering. “Don’t say that, Jack. I’m cursed.” His hands take mine, grabbing and holding them as he looks into my eyes, so earnest and clearly full of love that it breaks something in me I don’t know if I’ll ever heal.

In my gut, I know what this is: the long-term effect of the kiss bond. If it goes on for some time, I’ve read that it can occasionally deepen feelings, leading the nonmagical person to fall in love. Once it wears off, there’s a good chance he won’t even like me. I thought we’d be okay, since it hadn’t been that long, but I guess I was wrong.

“I don’t care about your curse. I’m not cursed, after all. And whether I tell you this now or in a week when we break this thing, that won’t change.”

“Jack—” My throat aches with the single word, but he leans in and gently presses his lips to mine, silencing my words.

“I love you, Rosemary Mayfield,” he says so soft, I almost don’t hear it. God, I wish I hadn’t heard it. Because when I do, my chest fills and swells with joy and sweetness, and my head fills with doom and gloom.

I realize belatedly that whispering it aloud in the bathroom may have been the catalyst, may have set things in motion. This heartbreak is my own fault.

“I wish you hadn’t said that,” I whisper, and it breaks something in me to say it out loud. Even more when I see hurt flash across his face, with the realization that his confession doesn’t change anything. “I can’t do this, Jack. I have to break the curse. It’s not just me who’s cursed. It’s my sisters too. They deserve to find love, to be loved. To be free.”

He steps away then, seeing some kind of determination in me that he didn’t before. I feel the distance like a deep loss, feel his warmth leave me, and wish desperately that he wouldn’t even if it’s for the best.

“Okay,” he whispers, low and sad, and something about it breaks me further.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll go.” He turns then to the garbage, throwing the flowers tied in Poppy’s ribbon into my trash before turning back to me. “I won’t get in your way.” I don’t know what to say, instead continuing to stare at him unblinking for long moments.

“Jack—” I start, but he shakes his head.

“You’re right. My feelings about you shouldn’t override what you want. I, uhm…” He runs a hand over his head, his hair tousling in a way I want to touch, to fix the strands, but I don’t think I can, not anymore. “I’ll head out.”

“Next week is the full moon,” I say in a whisper as he walks past me toward the door, my body turning and moving to follow his exit. “We have a curse to break.” He looks at me over his shoulder, and something in my face breaks at the look and the following shrug of his shoulders.

“You were the only one actually doing anything, Rosie, and we both know it. You’ve got it under control.” He turns back toward the door, and without realizing it, I follow him silently, Percy trailing me like a little funeral procession for the relationship we had.

He finally reaches the door, turns the knob, and glances one last time over his shoulder at me with a sad look.

“I’m sorry, Rosie. Really. I am.” And then he’s gone.

And just like it has happened a million times before, my heart breaks into a million little pieces.

CHAPTER 29

Rosie

2 days until Halloween

The curse has never hurt like this.

Not this all-consuming, soul-crushing, emotion-eating way.

This is different.

I tell myself it’s because of the kiss bond that’s slowly fading, because he was the first and only man I’d given that to, so that must be new. Or maybe it’s the fact that a ghost resembling a much older version of him is still hovering around my place. I will say, though Phillip haunts my place, it is much quieter and less obtrusive than before, almost as if he feels some degree of guilt over my heartbreak.

The day after our fight, I found the flask in a box on my front step. There was a small note in his too-familiar handwriting that read given willingly, and I cried for a full hour after I brought it inside. Just seeing it there, the quiet understanding that Jack was giving up on trying with me, even though I told him to leave, cut deep.