Page 48 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

“I think nine million people saw it,” Saga finally breathed. To take out an engagement announcement in the Sunday Times was one thing. For him to do it only three months after leaving her at the altar was entirely another.

“It was Lana’s idea,” Hugh demurred. “I didn’t want it.”

Saga got the feeling that this was meant to comfort her, but instead her stomach churned. “Why are you here, Hugh?”

He looked cornered and confused. “I…I told you.”

“Yes, you miss me, but why are you here?”

He fidgeted. He looked nervous as he cast a quick glance at Avery then back to Saga. “Could we talk somewhere private?”

“I’m working.”

“Yeah, but you’re just a…” Hugh visibly caught himself before finishing the thought aloud. “Can’t you ask someone to cover for you or something?”

She could. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want him here. She felt vulnerable and unarmed. Couldn’t he have called? She hadn’t blocked his number. It would have been right for him to call. She had been expecting a call four godsdamn months ago.

“Today is no good, I’m afraid, old boy.” Avery must have seen the conflict in her, as she appeared to only come to her aid when Saga actually needed it. “There’s far too much to do, and we have a previous engagement with a colleague of mine that we cannot cancel.”

The absurdity of Avery talking like a posh househusband and referring to their trip to the morgue like it was a dinner party startled Saga back into the moment. “R-right.”

Hugh sighed, barely covering his irritation as he sidestepped away from Avery. “I came a long way.”

Now he’d done it. She’d been willing to let the “you’re just a waitress” implication slide. He’d caught himself. He’d known that was a stupid thing to say and prevented himself from saying it. But now, without further thought, he was acting like her time was less valuable than his, and she felt something in her change. Like a wall rising around her heart. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I would have called,” Hugh asserted. He was giving her that pathetic helpless puppy-dog look. A look that on any animal would have been sweet and tugged on her heartstrings, but on Hugh it only sparked a fire within her. He was not helpless. He was a grown man. A grown man who made deliberate and purposeful decisions that brought him to this very moment. “I figured you had blocked my number.”

“I didn’t.” The anger was bubbling just below the surface. She could feel it rising. “Did you even try to call me?”

“Would you have even answered?” As always, he was looking for somewhere else to cast the blame.

“I would have,” said Saga. “Four months ago.” Her ferocity surprised even her.

Hugh was speechless, and he stood there awkwardly for over a minute. He was waiting for her to take it back. To apologize. To ease the tension that was now palpable between them. To do the thing she had done time and time again for their relationship.

Saga tightened her jaw and the wall remained unmoved. She would not shrink herself for this man again.

“It…” Hugh glanced around and lowered his voice to a low hiss. “It is really important I talk with you.” He’d switched tactics. Now he was talking to her like she was being a difficult child. Like he hadn’t just interrupted her workday unannounced.

Saga became keenly aware of the sword on her charm bracelet. It didn’t move, she didn’t look at it, but somehow its image and the knowledge of what it represented formed in her mind as if summoned. Brigid the Warrior. “I have Thursday off.”

“I can’t Thursday, I work a ten-hour at the hospital on Thursday.”

“Then come after.”

“That is an insane proposal.”

Saga shrugged. “That is my offer.”

Hugh growled in frustration and leaned toward her over the counter. “You are being unreasonable.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Saga could see Avery start to move, and she raised her hand to indicate she did not need anyone to intervene. She met Hugh’s angry gaze and pursed her lips expectantly.

“I don’t see why I have to bend over backward for a simple conversation!”

“Because I am not the one who is desperate to have it,” said Saga. She felt an inferno in her chest, but it wasn’t fury. She felt calm and resolute. She felt pity for this angry little man. “It’s important to you to have the conversation, so if either of us is going to be inconvenienced in having it, it will not be me. I have given you an entire twenty-four hours to pick from. I will not be accommodating you further.”

“Saga—”