Diane stood in the doorway, holding a bottle ofwine in one hand and a family-sized bag of chips in the other, looking like a suburban warrior ready for emotional combat.
“I heard,” she announced. “Marjorie’s already spreading it around that your ‘live-in contractor’ drove off at midnight. She’s calling it a ‘lovers’ quarrel.’” Diane air-quoted aggressively. “I’m here to either help you plot revenge or watch you cry. Maybe both. I brought supplies.”
“It’s 7 a.m.”
“Wine doesn’t know what time it is.” Diane set the bottle on the counter and pulled Cassie into a fierce hug. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now sit down and tell me everything.”
The whole storycame out in pieces.
Cassie sat at the kitchen table—the same table where she and Liam had shared meals in awkward silence, had practiced grounding exercises, had carefully avoided eye contact while pretending they weren’t thinking about each other—and told Diane everything. The farmers market. The fight. The magic surge that had sent him stumbling into broken glass. Elspeth’s letter. The spell that broke the binding. The empty room.
Diane listened without interrupting, which was unusual enough to be alarming. She just sat there, munching chips and occasionally refilling Cassie’s coffee, her expression shifting from concern to frustration to something that looked a lot like pity.
When Cassie finally wound down, voice raw, eyes red, Diane set down her wine glass and leaned forward.
“I’m going to say something, and you’re not going to like it.”
“Great. Can’t wait.”
“You’ve been waiting for him to leave since day one. You just made it happen faster.”
The words landed like a punch.
“That’s not?—”
“It is, though.” Diane’s voice was gentle but relentless. “I watched you, Cass. Every time he did something kind, you found a reason to doubt it. Every time he chose to stay, you convinced yourself it was the magic. You kept one foot out the door the entire time because you were so sure he was going to leave that you decided to beat him to it.”
“He was literally trapped here.”
“For like, a week. After that, you told me yourself—the binding loosened. He could have made your life miserable. He could have stayed in his room and counted the days. Instead, he fixed your gutters and made you tea and looked at you like you hung the goddamn moon.” Diane shook her head. “That manwas choosing you every single day, and you couldn’t see it because you’d already decided you weren’t worth choosing.”
Cassie’s eyes burned. “You don’t understand?—”
“I do understand. Better than you think.” Diane’s expression shifted to something more serious. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to have someone make you doubt yourself? My ex didn’t tell me I was too much. He told me I’d chosen wrong. Every fight, every problem—it was because I’d picked the wrong career, the wrong apartment, the wrong restaurant, the wrong him. Nothing was ever his fault. It was always my bad judgment.”
She laughed bitterly. “I spent five years questioning every decision I made. Couldn’t pick a paint color without a panic attack. And you know what happened?”
“He left anyway.”
“He left anyway. For someone he said was ‘more decisive.’ The irony could kill you.” Diane reached across the table and squeezed Cassie’s hand. “Derek made you feel like you were the problem. Todd made me feel like I couldn’t trust my own mind. Different poison, same result. I get why you’re scared.”
“Then you understand why I can’t?—”
“No. I understand why you’reafraidto. That’s not the same thing.” Diane’s grip tightened. “Derek was an asshole. A grade-A, certified, prime-cut asshole who spent twenty years convincingyou that you were too much, and then left you for a yoga instructor named after a dog breed. But you can’t use him as an excuse to never try again.”
“I’m not?—”
“You are. You’ve built this whole fortress around yourself, this ‘I’m too much, I ruin everything, nobody would choose me’ narrative, and you’ve been hiding behind it for three years.” Diane’s voice softened. “I get it. I do. After what he did to you, I’d want to hide too. But Cass… Liam isn’t Derek. And you’re not the woman Derek told you that you were.”
“What if I am, though?” The words came out small. Broken. “What if I am too much? What if I’m not enough? What if he gets to know the real me—all of me, without magic, without chaos, just… me—and decides it’s not worth it?”
“Then at least you’ll know.” Diane reached across the table and took her hands. “What if you’re exactly right for each other and you never find out because you’re too scared to try?”
Cassie didn’t have an answer.
