Page 12 of Was I Ever Real

“Left hand, palm up please,” the lady says.

Begrudgingly, I unfurl my fingers and place my hand where she asked. She takes her glasses hanging off her neck and places them gently on the tip of her nose. Taking my hand in hers, I fight back the instinctual flinch attached to the vulnerability of the moment.

We fall silent as she bends over my palm, the pad of her finger tracing the lines carved in my skin like she can actuallyseesomething. What a waste of my fucking time.

And I have only myself to blame.

“You have her life line etched in the palm of your hand,” she finally says, her voice barely a whisper.

Great, she’s speaking in fucking riddles.

“He has what?” Lenix asks for me, sounding as incredulous as I feel, sitting on this too small plastic chair inside a charlatan’s tent.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Herlife line,” she repeats as if somehow that’s what was needed to make this all make sense.

“Whose?” I grunt in annoyance, less because I’m curious and more because I want this whole interaction to be over as soon as possible.

Her shoulders are still hunched over while staring at us both from behind her glasses, eyes flitting back and forth between us two. She finally raises her index finger stacked full of silver rings and points it directly at Lenix.

“Hers.”

Chapter 8

Theroomisdeadsilent.

Both Connor and I haven’t said a word, as if we’ve both completely short-circuited. The moment only lasts a few seconds but it feels like forever.

What the hell did she just say?

Connor clears his throat beside me which jolts me into finally responding to this absurd claim. I give her a tight smile. “First of all, that’s impossible. Second of all, I’m not sure I know what thatactuallymeans.”

I shoot a hard look toward Connor and he just stares back with a blank look on his face.

Great.

I wish he would at least say something.

“You’ve been bound before.” She pauses, eyes dancing back and forth. “And have experienced many lives together,” she states vaguely.

That makes Connor finally react, yanking his hand away from her and standing up.

“Lady, you’ve got the wrong couple. All that past life shit has nothing to do with us.” He then startles like he just realized what he said, and blurts, “We’re not a couple. I just meant that’s not us. You’ve got the wrongpeople.”He swipes his hand through his black hair and then rubs his neck, a small tell that he’s more flustered than he’s letting on. And I fight the urge to scoff at the sight.

The palm reader stays silent, a small smirk on her lips, studying us.

Maybe getting Connor to have his palm read was a dumb idea after all.

Meanwhile, I’m still sitting on the chair facing her, sweating like I’m at the doctor’s office about to be told I have a week to live.

“Tell me,” she says to Connor, carefully taking her glasses off and letting them hang off her neck. “Do you have a birthmark over your heart?”

His eyebrows pull down, his forehead wrinkling in aggravation.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer my question.”

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