Page 100 of Unravel Me

I wrap the fingers of my other hand tightly around the ink, my nails digging into my skin until it hurts.

The pain is real, and strangely, it helps me accept that I have to step away from Jared's life because an innocent child is about to enter the world.

I lift my eyes to the screen and reopen the tab with my email to Colin Miller.

Feeling defeated, I delete the draft I'd written to him. If I continued with my plan—begging, insisting, offering money—sooner or later, one of them might agree.

But Mark is now Jared's child's father. If I brought about his downfall… I'd also be hurting the one person I want to protect more than anyone else.

I stay alone in the silent room, and my only companion is pain. Dull, relentless, but faithful, squeezing me like an invisible vise.

Jared, my sweet Jared.

A single tear falls onto the desk.

I’m not religious. I don’t believe in prayers, but I remember that my dad would sometimes pray to Fate. Maybe I could try? This one time?

My lips move soundlessly.

Please, please, please… make Jared come to me one day. Please…

CHAPTER 20: JARED

Present day

Something undefined pulls me out of my nap. A sound or a rustle. I sit up in my nest and look around. I feel this urge to get out of it, as if my legs are itching to move. My heat is coming to an end, I guess.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure what to do, but I have to leave the room. That's certain.

The hallway is quiet, and I can hear muffled voices coming from downstairs. Maybe someone is in the living room, but a strip of light catches my attention.

Gianni's door is slightly ajar, as though he forgot to pull it shut. I move closer and hear a sound that almost resembles a cry.

I peek inside and see him sitting at his desk, his elbows resting on the surface, his hands pressed against his face.

Maybe I should back off. This is an intimate moment, after all, and I barely know him. But on a sudden, crazy impulse, I step inside.

Gianni jerks his head up, embarrassment flashing across his face for a moment, and his eyes are slightly wet.

"What do you want?" he says, almost rudely, his voice hoarse, but there's pain written all over his face.

"I'm sorry. I was just walking by your room. Is there anything I can do to help?" I whisper because I don't know what else to say, still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You can't help me unless you're willing to give me some of your beauty, health, and youth."

There's so much bitterness in his words, as though they're made of it, every letter woven from pain.

"You think being beautiful solves everything? I've been hurt because of it many times," I reply with almost the same bitterness.

Gianni's tearful eyes study me for a moment.

"And yet… I'd like to be someone like you, even for a little while. Someone as impossibly beautiful as only elves can be."

I wince because, somehow, his words hurt. I can't find the strange elf's compliment flattering; all I can sense is his energy, painfully twisted.

"But when the wrong people set their sights on you, then you become an object to acquire. And the greater your beauty, the higher the price on your head…"

Skepticism flickers in Gianni's eyes.