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He had thought about texting her a few times. Hell, he had gotten out his phone and written out a text on more than one occasion. But each time, he’d deleted it unsent, telling himself not to send it.
He could have gone to her house or something, and then they could have had a private conversation, instead of ambushing her in their place of business, her job, and demanding that they have have this very intense conversation in a public place.
He could have done that.
But.
Coward.
This way, there would be less yelling, and this way she couldn’t run away. If he’d gone to her apartment, she would have the right to tell him to get out. Here, well, he worked here. He was herboss.
Anyway, this was shitty of him, but the whole of their relationship had elements to it that made him a little squirmy if he thought about them too much. Maybe he never had any right to be messing around with her in the first place.
She came in and hung up her jacket and saw him and registered surprise.
He held his ground, wishing for pockets to shove his hands into.
He fiddled with his scarf instead. “Hey. Sorry to ambush you like this.”
“I haven’t been in touch,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I just, uh, I…” He let go of his scarf. “Everything’s up in the air.”
“I feel up in the air,” she said with a little laugh. “Briars and tangles, Niles, my whole life, my whole identity, it’s just…” She threw her hands up haphazardly, letting out another laugh.
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m in therapy.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Is that good?”
She nodded. “It’s really good. Um, thanks for suggesting it to me. It’s kind of insane to me that no one ever did, really.” She smiled at him.
“Uh…” What did he say to that? You’re welcome? That sounded smug. “Uh, well, I’m glad it’s good.”
“I, um, I can control it,” she said. “I’ve been practicing at this hospice with my therapist, triggering my raven mocker form, and I haven’t fed on anyone. We’ve been there three times.”
“Really?” He grinned at her. “Well, that’s super cool. I’m kind of amazed. You said that wasn’t possible.”
“I was afraid,” she said. “I was afraid because—I mean, you said this, didn’t you?—if I had control of it, I was going to feel guilty. But, you know, I don’t. I never really hurt anyone that badly. Everyone recovered. I actually kept myself pretty under control when all was said and done. And, um, I’m even better now.”
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“My therapist says that I may not always keep myself under control. Sometime I may snap and start feeding on someone. But she says the important thing is to get back to my higher self as soon as I can, and to remember my connection to other people and to stop. The weird thing is, that’s what I’ve always done.”
“Yeah, Tommy said something like that to me. He said that he pushes you off periodically to make you have to keep choosing to feed and that you’re in there and eventually you choose not to.”
“Hesaidthat?” Dahlia didn’t seem pleased.
Niles nodded.
She let out a disgusted noise. She went and got her apron and started for the swinging door.
Niles went after her.
At the counter, Max was counting down the drawer in the corner to end his shift. He waved at Dahlia.
She waved back.
