Page 94 of With All My Haunted Heart

“I like the work,” she says, though she sounds uncertain. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Call me?” I ask, lingering in the open elevator doorway.

Flora grins. “Every day until you’re sick of my voice.”

I know it’ll take more than a single afternoon to heal everything between us, but as I leave the building and head back into the cold of coming winter, all I feel is hope.

Chapter

Thirty

In the three days since I met with Flora, I’ve accomplished three things.

One, I’ve talked to my sister every day. Our calls always start off stilted and awkward, but by the end, we’re laughing and reminiscing and starting the slow work of filling in all the gaps in our perceptions of each other.

Two, I’ve contacted Xander to let him know my conversation with Flora replaced the audit and the B&B’s magical license has been fully approved.

And three, I’ve decided to be brave.

It’s been three weeks and one day since I last saw Elle, and I miss her so fucking much. I miss her teasing. Her stubbornness with the things she cares about. The way her hand feels against mine.

I want to be there to listen to her get excited about spreadsheets with Keith. I want to have dance parties with her, Xander, and the ghosts. I want to lust over her forearms while she assaults croissant dough.

If I’ve learned anything from reconnecting with Flora, it’s that silence doesn’t automatically mean disinterest. I owe it to Elle to find out if that’s true for us. And if Elle doesn’t want to see or speak to me again, that’s fine. I’ll respect her choice. I’ll honor her boundaries.

But she shouldn’t have to be the one who goes first, not after everything she’s been through. I’ll hate myself if I don’t try. I don’t know what I’ll say exactly, but I have the entire drive to Oak Spires to figure it out.

“Cocoa. Waffles. You two be good while I’m gone.” I grab the keys to my Camry—I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet—and head for the door. “Don’t throw any parties while I’m gone. And no eating the plants!”

The kittens meow at me like they’re complaining about the rules, so I’m smiling when I pull open the door to leave. But instead of finding an empty hallway, I nearly collide with a person in the doorframe—a woman with familiar red hair that cascades down the front of a black peacoat.

“Elle?” Seeing her face in person for the first time in weeks makes my mind go fuzzy and blank.

I was supposed to have an entire drive to figure out what to say, but now she’s here. Standing in front of my apartment with her sleeves gripped tight in her palms. Her expression remains infuriatingly neutral while the kittens cry for attention at my feet.

My stomach clenches with sudden anxiety and fierce hope, and I press one hand to my abdomen while the other braces against the open door. “What are you doing here?”

Elle winces. “Alex gave me your address. I was hoping we could talk.” Her attention skims over my body and comes to rest at my feet. A smile pulls at her lips. “You finally adopted the kittens you wanted.”

The delight in her voice breaks me out of my frozen state. “I did. Yeah. About two and a half weeks ago.” I step back to give her space to enter. “You might as well come in. They’re absolute pests until they get proper attention.”

Elle enters, her familiar lavender and warm spice scent filling my nose as she passes. The kittens bound over to her, and she expertly scoops the pair of them up and snuggles her face into their fur before setting them back down again.

Waffles puffs up her tail, indignant as she headbutts Elle’s shin.

I close the door, shutting us into the quiet sanctuary of my apartment. Elle takes in the space as she steps into my living room. “So…this is where you live.”

My muscles feel robotic as I shrug. “For now. Eventually, I’ll need a dedicated office space where those two can’t interrupt my experiments.”

“It doesn’t feel like you.” Elle unwraps the scarf from around her neck and shucks off her coat like she means to stay awhile. “The manor fit you better.”

I don’t know how to respond. Midnight Manor was never meant to be my home, no matter how settled I felt there. No matter how much I enjoyed seeing Xander every day. Seeing her.

With words locked up tight in my chest, I take Elle’s coat and drape it over one of the high stools along the eat-in island in the kitchen. Slipping out of my own winter things, I set them on the stool next to hers.

“I’m sorry.” Elle sighs, and with my back to her, I can picture the defeat in her features. “I didn’t come here to insult your living space.”

“Why did you come?” I ask, and memories of our final moments play through my head. Her anger. Her disappointment. Her grief. Despite my lingering hurt, I keep my voice gentle. “If this is about Willa…I’m sorry, Elle. There’s nothing I can do to bring her back.”