I didn’t move. “You need to leave, Seth.”
He tried to push past me, a hand on the frame, already invading. “Who did this to you?” It came out too loud, like he was auditioning for a role he didn’t understand. “Did he hurt you? Is someone here?”
I wanted to laugh, but it curdled in my throat. “No one hurt me,” I said, clear and cold. “I’m happy, Seth. You need to go.”
He shook his head. “You’re not safe here. This place is dangerous, Annie. There are, like, actual demons in this town?—”
I smiled. “Yeah. And I’m fucking one of them.”
He shut up, mouth working soundlessly. The color drained from his face.
“That’s not funny,” he said, finally.
I stepped closer, tilting my neck like I was an actress in a vampire B movie. "It's not a joke. Samiel has matching bruises, plus a bite mark that looks like Nebraska. Turns out I'm into guys who can bench-press a Buick and don't need WebMD tofind a clitoris. Geography lesson's over, Seth—get in your sad little rental car and MapQuest your way back to Tampa."
His eyes snapped up—stunned, almost comically, like it had never occurred to him I might be serious. For a second, I could see all the old gears working, trying to fit what I’d just said into the shape of the Annie he remembered. The one who rescued him from his own messes, who wouldn’t so much as jaywalk if it meant hurting someone else’s feelings. He didn’t get it. Maybe he never would.
“You’re… you’re not joking.” His voice was so small it almost made me feel bad. Almost.
I kept my arms crossed. “No, Seth, I’m not. And it’s none of your business.”
He took a step back, nose wrinkling like he smelled something bad. “Jesus, Annie. You’re in some kind of—what, a cult? Is that what this is?” He held up the flowers as if they could shield him from reality. “This isn’t you. You’re not this person. You hated the desert, you hated weird shit, you?—”
I cut him off. “Don’t tell me who I am.” I was shaking a little, and it pissed me off that I still cared enough to be angry. “I get it, okay? You showed up because your life is a mess and you can’t imagine a world where I don’t drop everything to fix it. But that’s over.” I leaned forward, voice low. “If you cared about me at all, you’d leave.”
He looked at me, then at the bruises, then back up at the house, half-expecting some demon to pop out and drag him to hell. It would’ve been funny if I hadn’t wanted to do it myself.
“This guy,” he said, almost a whine, “he’s clearly not safe.”
I laughed. “Not safe for you, for sure. Which is why you should leave. He’d love to watch you run. But he’d love it even more if you stayed, because then he’d have an excuse to break every bone in your body.” I felt a little dizzy, like I was watchingsomeone else’s hands punch out the words. “I’m in love with him, Seth. And if you stay here, he’ll tear you apart.”
The second I said it, I felt it land—in love. I didn’t need to look for the recognition in his face. It was in mine. I held the stare for a long time. Maybe a minute. The silence got so thick you could frost a cake with it. Seth looked like someone had smacked him. Then, in the saddest little motion I’d ever seen, he tucked the sunflowers under his arm, nodded, and just… left.
I watched him get into a rental car that probably cost more than his month’s rent and pull a three-point turn so wide he nearly mowed down the mailbox. The whole drive down the gravel, he didn’t look back. I waited until the car was out of sight, then shut the door—hard—and leaned against it, breathing like I’d just run the obstacle course in the backyard. My knees gave out and I slid to the floor, back pressed to the wood, head in my hands.
I knew I should tell Samiel. I knew if I did, he’d take it as a threat. A challenge. Something to fix by force, or by fear. The idea of that—of Seth mangled on the side of some county road, or Samiel pacing the living room like a caged animal—made something heavy thud in my chest. I sat there for a long time, thinking about it, about all the ways this could go wrong, about what happened to people who carried secrets in towns like this.
I didn’t move until I heard Samiel’s car in the drive.
By then, the kettle had boiled itself dry, and the cat had meowed herself hoarse at the pantry door. I got up, wiped my face, and tried to look like I hadn’t just had a near-miss with my own bad patterns. When Samiel walked in, arms full of produce, overheated and sweating, I met him with a smile and a kiss and a joke about how he’d forgotten the avocados, everything was just as it should be.
Except it wasn’t. Not quite. Not for the rest of the day, or that night, or the next week. I kept waiting for the other shoe todrop, for Seth to show up again, for a police cruiser or a neighbor or a demon in a cheap suit to knock on the door and say, “Hey, there’s a problem. A human one.” I kept waiting to feel like myself again, but what I mostly felt was a kind of sick, sweet relief.
I didn’t tell Samiel.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Samiel
Annie and I were brushing our teeth side by side, staring at each other in the mirror when something shifted in my chest. Annie caught my eye, foam at the corner of her mouth, and winked.
My toothbrush froze mid-stroke. I was totally and completely in love with her. The realization hit with such force, I nearly choked on mint. I'd never been in love, not even close. And now I was standing in my house—our house if she decided to stay—plotting ways to move mountains for her until the heat death of the universe.
I hadn't gotten up the courage to ask if she'd decided to stay at the end of ninety days. I didn't want to pressure her. And though I was almost certain the answer would be yes, she'd been... distracted for the last few days. I'd catch her looking out the window, lost in thought or petting Fluoxetine while gnawing on her lip aggressively. She'd started leaving half-drunk cups of coffee around the house, something she never did before. Twice I'd found her phone face-down on the porch, like she'd set itthere deliberately to avoid checking it. Yesterday, she'd jumped when the mailman came, then laughed it off too loudly. Was something bothering her? Was she trying to decide if she was ready to say yes to forever?
In what I thought was an excellent display of personal growth, I finally decided to ask her if something was bothering her, rather than ruminate on worst case scenarios.
