Page 56 of With All My Haunted Heart

“It’s just…” He glances toward the register, and I follow suit, catching Kai staring at Xander with clear interest. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t flirt.”

“What’s the point?” Xander pulls away from my touch and goes back to searching the aisle for a suitable spirit board. “I’m done fooling myself, Pip. I’m not cut out for love.”

The ache in his voice tugs on my heart. “I know you’re hurting after what happened,” I say, avoiding Barrett’s name. “But you are an incredible man, Xander. You may not feel ready to date, or even flirt, right now, but—”

“But nothing,” Xander snaps, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m done pretending that I get a happily ever after. I’m done with men. Dating. All of it.”

The finality of his words, the surety of his tone, stuns me into silence. I knew Barrett’s blithe cheating, his swift ending of their engagement, hurt Xander. But this? Xander has always believed in love. In fairy-tale endings. He’s always bounced back quickly after breakups before.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me in for a hug. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

I squeeze him tight. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s not your fault, Pip.” He releases me and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “Do you mind checking out for me? I’ll wait in the car.”

“Fine, but then I’m taking you to Books and Beverages for cocoa and a cookie.” I watch Xander leave, offering a brief wave of acknowledgment to Kai before he escapes out the door. As I pay for the mirrors on the B&B’s business card, I realize that Elle is right.

No matter how much I want to spend time with her, no matter how much I want to take advantage of our last days together, we can’t risk hurting Xander. I won’t do that to him, and it makes me like Elle even more to know she won’t, either.

Mirrors paid for and stowed in the car, I drag Xander down the block toward Books & Beverages, the bookstore and café we often studied at during our college years. It’s where I first fell in love with romance novels, too.

We turn the corner toward the shop, but instead of the bright windows full of books that I expect, the windows are covered with brown paper. “No! They can’t be closed! This place was an Oak Spires institution.”

Xander continues past the closed door and points at a sign. “Something new is moving in.”

I hurry to his side. The cheery font takes a moment to register, but when it does, it lands like a punch.

Coming this spring: Coffee, Charms, & Crystals—Oak Spires!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Anger and frustration swirl inside me, growing bigger and bigger to block out the grief and shame and worry I know are lurking underneath. “Un-fucking-believable.” My phone is in my hand before I’m consciously aware of what I’m doing, stabbing out a text to Dea and snapping a photo of the sign.

“You know this place?” Xander asks.

“It’s C3. The same shop that’s running my business into the ground.” I rake my hands through my hair, tugging until I can convince myself that the sting of tears is from physical pain. “I can’t get away from these goddamn leeches. What are they doing in Oak Spires? Fuck. And why did they have to take over Books and Beverages, of all places?”

My phone buzzes with a text from Dea.

Sorry, boss.

“Maybe they’re moving here?” Xander suggests, though he can’t hide the doubt in his voice. “If the shop in Windsfell is closing, you won’t have to compete with them anymore. This could be a good thing.”

I’m too busy pulling up C3’s social media accounts to respond. There’s nothing on their grid, but I click over to their main website, and—

Coffee, Charms, & Crystals is pleased to announce the opening of our second location! Nestled just steps from historic Main Street, the Oak Spires location of C3 will mark the official launch of our new candle magic line!

“Not moving. Expanding.” I force the words out, a sinking sense of inadequacy threatening to drown me. If I were a pettier person, and didn’t have personal minefields there, I’d be tempted to report C3 to NACOW. Making magic accessible to mundanes must increase the risk of accidents that could make us look bad. Surely the staunch traditionalists would take issue with that.

But no matter how much it might help my business, I’d never betray another witch like that. I won’t give the traditionalists the satisfaction of pretending I agree with their fearmongering.

My anger morphs into bitter desperation. I don’t get why C3 is thriving while I flounder. It doesn’t make sense. I shove my phone in my pocket and stare at the sidewalk like I can divine answers from the web of cracks. “What am I doing wrong? I’m good at what I do. I charge fair rates. I do the stupid marketing. I—”

“Hey,” Xander soothes, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I know this spiral, Pip. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Business isn’t easy. Sometimes you have to pivot, but that doesn’t mean you failed the first time.”

Before I can argue, my phone buzzes in my hand. I expect to see Dea’s name on the screen, calling with some helpful intel, but instead, the caller ID says Jackie.

It takes a moment to place her name, but when I do, my side aches with the memory of the poltergeist possession and the now-healed Taser burn.