Huh. Hewasserious.
“You love him, Chiara.” Tennyson’s expression softened.
I couldn’t say anything, which was an answer in and of itself.
“You love Jack,” he repeated, “but you’re worried—and rightly so—that your emotional tendency to sabotage a relationship will turn any romance with Jack into a nuclear fireball.”
A beat.
“Did you see that in a vision perchance?” I asked.
“No. You told me.”
“What?”
“Your emotions, Chiara. What’s up with all the anger? You’ve been seething for about an hour now, but it doesn’t feel like it’s directed toward Jack or myself. It’s like you just . . .” His voice trailed off.
“I what?”
He shrugged. “It’s like you really hate this garden. Like the roses and freesia personally piss you off.”
“The roses and freesiadopiss me off. The tower ruins anger me.”
“Because of Babbo?”
“YES!”
My answer may have been a little more shouty than I intended. Jack’s head whipped my way, brows confused.
I waved at him. He blinked, smiled and then waved back before crouching down again.
I gritted my teeth, telling myself my anger was stupid. It was serving no good purpose.
“You need let it go, Chiara.” Tennyson’s tone was soft. “The more you hold on to your anger or your misery or whatever, the more it poisons you. You can overcome your emotional issues. You just have towantto heal.”
I grunted. “It’s not that easy.”
“Chiara.” He waited until I turned his way and locked his gaze with mine. “Itisthat easy. You just have to take a step forward and try.”
I turned away from Tennyson, staring back over the ruins, watching Jack.
I loved Babbo even though I was furious with him.
I thought of the crumpled card the police officer had given me. I hadn’t called the recommended therapist. But I also hadn’t thrown away the business card.
Baby steps.
Time to change the subject.
I shot a glance at Tennyson. “So when are you going to start dating again?”
I bumped his shoulder.
He bumped mine back.
“There will never be a woman for me,” he said.
“How can you be sure?”
