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She took a step back as she shook her head no.
“No…I mean…what…you said love?” Her breathing was growing shallower by the second. “You said walk down the aisle?”
Oh fuck. That’s what she was upset about? “I love you. I’m sorry that this is how I’m telling you. In fairness, I did say it last night, but you were already passed out.”
“No, this is…” Her eyes darted around the room. “This can’t happen.”
I could feel her panic, it was palpable. She was frantic. She looked like a caged animal.
I asked, “What are you looking for?”
“My purse. I need to go.”
“Bella.” I softened my voice as I took a step toward her and she retreated. I stopped and put my hands up in surrender. “What’s wrong?”
“This”—she waved her hand between us—“can’t be that.”
“It can’t be what?”
“Love. Marriage.”
“Why not?”
I’d never stopped to think that she might not feel the same way that I did. I wasn’t sure if that was from an overinflated ego or just because I knew, in my heart of hearts, that she had to feel the same way that I did because there was no way this was one-sided.
But it honestly never occurred to me that she might not be falling as hard as I was. And after she’d told me about her condition, I’d assumed we were all systems go.
“Because I have a heart condition that means that I could drop dead at any moment. And you have a family curse that says any relationship you get in will end in tragedy. If that’s not a recipe for disaster, I don’t know what is.”
“We talked about your condition. I told you that it doesn’t change anything for me. And as far as my family curse, it’s bullshit. Do you actually believe that some woman that my great grandfather scorned has any sort of power over us?”
She was still shaking her head, and her eyes were still wildly searching the room. I could see that reason wasn’t working, so I thought I’d take a different tactic.
“Okay, let’s say that it is real. The Comfort Curse is a real thing. If that’s the case, you’d be the absolute best person for me. Because I would know if, God forbid,” I knocked on my mahogany kitchen cabinets, “anything tragic did happen, it wouldn’t be because of that dumbass curse. You had your issues before you even met me.”
Was I grasping at straws? Hell yes. But Bella didn’t give me a whole lot of choice.
She was still shaking her head and I could see this was going from bad to worse.
“It’s on the table by the front door.” I pointed to the front room.
She nodded and turned.
“Bella. Please don’t go. We need to talk,” I begged.
“I have to go. I have to meet Cheyenne.”
“I’m sure my sister will understand if you’re a few minutes late.” I grabbed my keys off the counter and followed her out the front door instructing Sherlock to stay before I did.
“I’m meeting Abernathy. I can’t be late.”
Shit. I remembered Cheyenne telling me something about that.
She hurried down my walkway right past my truck.
“Where are you going? I’m your ride,” I called out after her.
“I’ll walk.”
“Bella! Bella, wait!” I shouted, but she was already halfway down my street.
I wanted to chase after her, but I didn’t see the point. She knew how I felt. I couldn’t tell her any more clearly.
All I could do was hope that, with time, she’d come around and see that I was right. Yes, my family had a curse on them. And yes, she had a family curse of her own. But those two things made us perfect for one another, not the other way around.
