“So what happened? Has he left? Did you two break up?”
I drew in a shaky breath. “We never dated. It’s...it’s complicated.”
“Hmm. I love complications.” She teased the word so warmly it made me laugh and made me want to spill everything.
It had been hard keeping my relationship with Thrax to myself. With the kind of attention and relentless love he gave me, I sometimes felt like I might burst if I didn’t tell someone. I was always so excited, so desperate to pour all that I felt for him onto someone’s shoulder. But there had been no one. I hadn’t told my mother before because I thought I was leaving him very soon, but at the moment, his secrets and my feelings were tangling heavily in my chest.
“I think I love him,” I whispered, letting the words tumble out.
My mother’s tone softened. “Oh, my dear.”
“I know, I know. I’m not supposed to.” I covered my face with my palm, muffling my voice. “It should have never happened.”
A love between an immortal and a mortal? The most tragic thing I’d ever heard. If this was a movie, I’d save myself the heartache and not watch it.
“Why? Doesn’t he love you back?”
I would’ve said without doubt,he sure as fuck loves me, if she had asked me this the day before yesterday. But now—knowing he’d moved in with me, that he’d been watching me all my life because I was the key to breaking his immortality curse—I wasn’t sure anymore. Everything felt rehearsed. Like none of this would’ve happened if I wasn’t his chance at freedom.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“So did you leave?”
“Kind of. Just for a little while—”
A knock on the front door cut me off. My head snapped up, and I lowered my hand from my face, waiting for the person behind it to say something or knock again so I’d know I hadn’t imagined it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hold on, Mother.”
I padded to the door and twisted the knob. Peering through the little crack I allowed, I saw no one. Frowning, I pulled it open fully—still no one on the porch.
I might have dismissed it as my ears playing tricks, but then my gaze fell. A box sat neatly at my feet, the same one he’d brought last night’s, only in a different colour.
My pulse stumbled.
Stepping past it, I hurried down the four porch steps, scanning the neighbourhood, but there was no trace of him.
Why was he leaving meals and disappearing? At this point, was he giving me space or wasIthe one giving him space?
Sighing, I walked back inside, carrying the food box with me. The food came in just when I was hungry, and it made me feel very slow—like Amelia had claimed—that I actually thought living awayfrom him meant no more of his meals. I should have known better. Thrax never let me go hungry.
“What was that?” Mother’s voice floated from my phone as I set the box on the counter. I tapped the loudspeaker and dropped the phone beside it.
“Food,” I said. “He sent it.”
Her swooning sound made me roll my eyes, though I bit back a smile tugging at my lips.
“Guess you don’t have to worry about that one now,” she said eventually. I started unpacking the box, one container at a time.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t here.” I frowned as I reached the last dish, noticing a folded piece of paper beneath it.
“Weren’t you the one who needed space?”
I pulled the paper free. “Yeah, but I didn’t tell him to take it personal. You’d think I was the one giving him space.”
Her loud laugh echoed through my empty kitchen as I carefully peeled the paper open, my chest seizing at the sight. Every inch of it was covered in his handwriting.
