I’m taken aback. “What?”
“Are you?”
When I don’t respond because I have no idea what to say, she looks away, jaw tight like she’s holding it together.
I focus on curbing my irritation. I succeed and when I speak, my tone is level. “I’m not using you.”
“It feels like you are,” she responds tremulously.
I rub my temple in frustration. “Cali, come on. Please, can we do this another time?”
She sniffles and nods, then leans toward me, seeking comfort. I have no choice but to wrap my arm around her, hold her. She is usually damn good company. Easy going. I have no idea what’s going on with her.
The opal collection is very cool.
I buy a brooch for my mother—delicate, iridescent, impossibly lovely—even if I don’t believe the vendor’s story about it once belonging to Joséphine Bonaparte.
Calypso points at a bracelet she thinks is beautiful. She’s so obvious, and I know I hurt her feelings, so I buy it for her. She wants to wear it right away, so I help her put it on.
Aksel shoots me a look that clearly says, “Did you seriously just drop a thousand euros on this woman?” It’s obvious that while Calypso has won over Tanya, and Margot seems politely amused by her, the younger Rousseaus aren’t buying what she’s selling. She’s personable, charming even—but whenever Ember’s in the room, Calypso somehow manages to dig herself a little deeper into a social hole.
I know the fault lies with me. I’ve made Calypso feel insecure, and regardless of the temporary nature of our relationship, I’ve no business making her feel that way.
“It looks lovely,” I tell her.
She raises her face. I kiss her lips, softly, feeling likeI’m cheating on Ember, feeling like I’m cheating on Calypso, feeling like I’m cheating on myself.
I need to snap out of it, I tell myself. Ember is going to meet some young man her age, and they’ll get married and raise a family, and?—
Fucking hell!
I can’t stand the idea of her with another man. God, I’ve been lying to myself for years—pretending I was glad we ended. But the minute I’m near her again, I’m panting like some starved dog, desperate and half-mad with want.
“Thank you, Ransom.” She puts her hands on my shoulders. “I’ll make sure”—she drops her voice to a whisper, a loud one—“to thank you properly later tonight.”
I smile but say nothing; a frog is lodged in my throat.
Arm in arm, we walk up to the next stall where Ember and Aksel are.
Ember giggles out loud at something Aksel says, and he pulls her hat down over her eyes.
“Stop that,” she snorts and takes off her hat.
Her hair is in a braid, but loose tendrils frame her face. She looks adorable.
She tilts her head back and wrinkles her nose when a snowflake falls on it.
“You look like a kid in a snow globe,” Aksel teases. “Never seen anyone as giddy about a Christmas market as you…. Well, you and Anika.”
She hugs herself and raises her shoulders, a smile splaying on her beautiful face. “I love this Christmas market. It’s pure joy.”
“The Christmas markets in Vienna are so much better," Calypso interjects superiorly.
Christ on a Goddamn crutch!I needed to have a conversation with Calypso to get her to stop sniping at Ember.
“Theglühweinismuch better there,” Ember agrees cheerfully. “I remember going there a couple of years ago. It was magical.”
Ember’s politeness jars Calypso. But her attention wanders when she sees a sign for a skincare brand.
