“Don’t be sorry,” he said quickly. His hand tightened on hers. “You never have to be sorry for how you feel.”
“I’m not sorry for how I feel. Or rather, I am, but it’s not because I’m not happy. Or okay, I’m notentirelyhappy, but it’s not because we’re together. Well, that’s not exactly true. It’s about us. It’s not what I want.”
Talk about a garbled mess. Law looked like she’d hit him. He let go of her hand and rubbed his forehead.
“I see.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you do, then you’re a better witch than I thought. I don’t even understand what I just said.”
“You said you’re not happy because being together isn’t what you want.” He said the words in a dead voice, his gaze glittering with emotion.
“I did not!”
He cocked his head, glaring. “What did you say, then?”
She ran her hands through her hair. It was longer than it had been. It hung down past her shoulders and had returned to her natural chestnut brown with blonde highlights. A so-called gift from So’la, her demon minion. She’d accidentally enslaved him, and now he thought it was fun to randomly change her hair. He said she had no style; therefore, he needed to give her some.
At least it was long enough to put in a ponytail.
She pulled her mind back from her wandering thoughts. Once again, she was finding a way to avoid dealing with her feelings for Law. What a chickenshit.
“What I meant was that I’m not entirely happy with how things are between us and—”
“And?” he prompted when she broke off.
“And maybe we should talk but somewhere private.” So that if she started crying or something equally humiliating, she wouldn’t have an enormous audience.
“Isn’t ‘we have to talk’ code for let’s break up? Why not just do it here? Get it over with?”
His lip curled and his eyelids had dropped so he looked sleepy. A defense mechanism. She’d used it often enough to hide her feelings.
“You want to talk here? Fine. We’ll talk here.” She folded her arms over her chest, her chin jutting as she glared at him. Inside, she was shaking, tremors radiating through her like tiny earthquakes.
“I am not happy because I feel like I’m fucking this up. We’re always being so careful and yeah, I know you say you love me, but most of the time you act more like I’m your roommate. We used to talk easily about everything when we worked for Acadia, but now it’s all safe ground: Elliot, work, the ghosts, guest antics, the weather, politics. I feel like if I say the wrong thing, if I do the wrong thing, everything will break. Hell, this entire conversation is a perfect example of that. I was just trying to be honest and explain how I feel, and sure, I garbled it up. Sue me. At least I tried. It’s all so stupid and now you’re pissed as hell, and— Shit.”
The tears burning in Mal’s eyes escaped and rolled down her cheeks. She grabbed a linen napkin off the table and blotted her face.
Perfect. Just perfect. Nobody liked a crybaby. Men hated emotional women. For fuck’s sake,shehated emotional women. This was exactly what she was afraid would happen. If she’d just kept her stupid mouth shut and kept smiling, everything would have been fine. But no, she had to start blathering and make everything worse and now everybody was staring at her bawling her fool head off in the lobby.
She stiffened as Law gripped her arms and pulled her hands away from her face. He knelt in front of her.
“I’m an ass,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Mal’s first instinct was to tell him to fuck off. Very adult and certain to make things better. Not.
She took a breath and let it out. “We seem to suck at relationships.”
He chuckled. “I can’t argue. I want to do better.”
“Maybe we need a book. Or a therapist.”
“Anything, Mal. As long as it keeps us together, I’ll do anything.”
She’d meant it as a joke, to lighten the moment, but his heartfelt words struck her hard. The raw emotion and honesty without any attempt to hide it.
“Iamscared to fuck this up,” she said again. “I can’t seem to do anything right.”
“Let’s make a rule,” he said. “We don’t quit. We don’t leave, no matter what happens. We fight for each other forever.”
