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Silence.
I wait for so long, and I start to feel like I’m going crazy. My pain must have made me delusional, or it was something as simple as a weak branch breaking from the wind.
It’s not out of the ordinary.
Though it didn’t sound like a branch. It specifically sounded like a boot stepping down, the crack slow, strong. Like a snap.
My head hits my pillow, and my chest quakes with nerves, wondering if everyone is wrong.
Maybe it isn’t over.
Before I can even work up the strength to check it out, my breathing settles and I drift back to sleep.
Iwatch her through the window, her restless, bruised body never able to get fully comfortable. I know if I were there, she would rest easy. Not because she always has when I’m around, but because I’d make sure she was comfortable.
I’d make sure she got her rest.
I’d fucking demand it.
But I can’t, because I have to stay away.
Once she’s asleep again, I stay another too many minutes before heading back to my car.
Every time I watch her, I promise myself it’s the last time, but the next day I find myself exactly where I always find myself, and that’s nearer to her.
I shake my head, frustrated with myself as the light breeze brushes against my skin. I don’t seem to have a sense of time, or days, or even my life. My world revolves around her, even if we are nothing anymore. She consumes me when I already feel like I’m drowning. She saves me when I never knew I needed to be saved.
She healed scars that I didn’t realize were there.
She put me together when I didn’t realize I was broken.
She didn’t use magic, she just usedher.
I swallow over the never-ending lump in my throat as I pull my keys from my pocket and make my way to the front of the house.
A shadow out of the corner of my eye has me leaping a foot in the air, grabbing my key like a knife, ready to plunge it into whoever’s neck, but I stop.
Hazel’s grandma?
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” I ask, then instantly regret it. She saved Hazel; I don’t need to be an asshole.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Your quick remarks are unneeded, Felix Port.”
“Sorry,” I clip, turning back around to keep walking.
“I’m not finished with you yet,” she snaps at me, and my shoulders roll as I turn to face her again, ready to spar with an old woman.
She’s in a robe, wearing it tied tightly around her waist, her arms folded across her chest as she levels me with a look. She steps down the stairs, her slippers growing dirty as she walks over rocks and twigs.
“What is it?” I growl, my temper seeming permanently short. It has been a constant these last few weeks, and I have no clue when it’ll ease up. I don’t want to be an ass to the old woman, but I will fucking bite back if she pushes the wrong button.
“You watch my granddaughter, but you have no intention of speaking with her?” she asks with lifted brows. “You’ve had your eyes on her for a week, yet you don’t even have the balls to say hello to her.”
I narrow my eyes, my jaw clenching. “I have my reasons.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Reasons? Is it because, somewhere down the DNA line, both of you are the same?”
Just the thought fills my mouth with acid. “That’s one ofmanyreasons.” That, and I’m not good for her. It wasn’t my plan to ghost her. I didn’t want to be an asshole. But when she woke up and looked at me, with so much fucking relief and happiness on her face as her eyes connected with mine,I knew.
