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“Please,” she said, holding a hand against her chest, pressing down, but she didn’t know what she was asking for, or from whom. She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting this emotion to go away, but she felt as if she were deep underwater, with no hint of the surface in sight.

She was such a fool, always loving those who didn’t care, craving the attention and affection of those who couldn’t be bothered.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson? All those years chasing after her parents, waiting for them to come home, desperate for their love.

What had it ever gotten her? Nothing. And she had done the very same thing with Grayson. All this time, waiting for him to stay, hoping he felt what she did.

But of course he didn’t. He had been angry with her, spouting nonsense, even though he had been the one to ignore her all day—to ignore Charles!—right when they needed him.

He didn’t care about them. He didn’t care about her.

Lucy opened her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. After a few attempts, she managed to get some air into her lungs, and she grabbed her bag, leaving the car. She let herself into her house, which was dark and quiet.

Moving slowly, she turned on the lights with her magic, going upstairs to her room. She wanted to collapse on her bed, but she knew if she did, she would dissolve into a puddle of tears, so instead, she went to the bathroom. Stripping, she got into the shower, letting the sound of the water drown out everything else.

It’s good he’s leaving, she told herself, scrubbing her skin. It had always been his plan, and he hadn’t once said anything to contradict that; she never should have hoped he would stay. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She continued persuading herself, even after she had finished showering. “He’ll leave,” she told herself, brushing her wet hair over and over. “And this will all be behind you.”

He was always going to go, she reminded herself. Better to get it over with now.

But no matter how much time she spent convincing herself this was for the best, she couldn’t. The next day, she went to work trembling, torn between wanting to see him and never wanting to see him again.

When she entered Crawley Books, her heart rate immediately sped up, and nausea overcame her. But a quick scan showed that he wasn’t there. Tentatively, Lucy glanced at the office; the door was open, and no one was inside. She let out a shaky breath, feeling both relief and despair.

“Lucy, good morning,” Charles said. He was sitting at one of the tables with a book and a cup of tea, and Lucy was glad to see him. While he was in higher spirits than he had been yesterday, when she walked over, he looked confused.

“Darling girl, what happened?” he asked, brows furrowed as he took in the sight of her puffy face. No matter how much makeup she’d put on, she couldn’t hide the rings under her eyes.

“Nothing,” Lucy said, forcing a brave smile, though she knew it didn’t quite hit its mark.

Charles frowned, setting his book down. “Grayson seemed off this morning as well,” he said. “Did something happen between you two?”

Her heart pinched at the sound of his name, and horribly, tears welled in her eyes. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Charles said. “You two are so good together.”

Lucy looked away, heart squeezing with pain. Charles went quiet for a moment, thinking, trying to understand. He reached for Lucy’s hand, but she was afraid if she gave it to him, she would start sobbing and never stop.

“Lucy, Grayson didn’t know about Sophie’s death anniversary,” Charles finally said. “I know you were upset about that, but it’s okay, dear girl. Don’t be mad at him on my behalf.”

Lucy glanced up at Charles, anger biting through her again as she recalled how she’d felt yesterday: waiting for him all day, being disappointed when he never came.

“He should have known,” Lucy said, face pinched.

Charles’s expression fell. “It’s okay,” he said, voice gentle.

But it wasn’t, and it didn’t matter, anyway, because Grayson was leaving.

He was leaving! Why couldn’t he just get it over with?

“I’m going to go check the packages,” Lucy said, avoiding Charles’s gaze. This all hurt too much, and she buried herself in work for the next hour, hoping it would help make the pain go away. If only there were a spell to mend broken hearts.

The distraction worked until, a little while later, the front door dinged. She looked up from the front counter, and there Grayson was. Seeing him felt like a punch to the gut, and she caught her breath.

Grayson looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink, every part of him disheveled. When he saw her, a dozen emotions crossed his face. Her heart twisted painfully, and she knew she didn’t hate him, not even a little bit, not at all.

What she felt for him was something much more catastrophic, something so much worse.