Fifteen Years Ago
My mom left her workshop in such disarray. She expected to come home to it. It wouldn’t have crossed her mind I’d have to clean out this space without her. She would have eventually organized her work in that system that only made sense to her. I turn over an old pendant, still brimming with her magick. When my mom worked on it, did she cradle it in her hands like I’m doing now? It’s illogical, but holding each one, brushing my magick against the last vestiges of hers, makes me feel like she’s still here. But this was just her work, stock to add to the family shop I was helping her run, nothing inherently special. So why are they now so important to me? Part of me never wants to sell them. Horde them in this room forever. The other, more rational, part of me thinks they’re clutter covering up a useful workspace. Grief is funny like that. Suddenly everything and nothing holds meaning.
Every time I attempt to clean it up, I lose myself in years’ worth of childhood memories of sitting next to her, watching her work, fascinated by all the tools, equipment, and strange objects strewn about. As messy as it looked to me, she always knew where everything was.
When I was old enough to begin practicing spells, we spent many mornings tinkering and experimenting with silly enchantments as she taught me how to make them. We created one that gave us bright rainbow-hued hair, weightless and floating in all directions, while we wore it. Another one made everything taste like bubblegum.
Any progress I thought I’d make today halts as I try shaking loose every detail tucked away in my brain. Even though it’s been a few months since I lost her and my dad, it’s hard to see the point in changing anything here. This space was hers. It should still be hers. I don’t know when I’ll ever think of it otherwise. I don’t know if I want to replace these memories with new ones without her.
A noise in the hallway draws my attention away from the enchantment still clutched in my hands and toward the doorway. Norrell steps inside, stony faced, his eyes strangely lifeless. He has stuck by my side since my parents died. A strong, stoic companion whose love helped prop me up when I was ready to crumble apart in grief. For all the issues we had the past couple years, he has been unfailingly supportive in this.
“Time must have escaped me. Sorry, my love. I think I’m done for today,” I say with a watery smile. I set down the items in my hands so I can wipe my eyes. I came in right after Norrell made lunch for me, but the low light from the window shows many hours have passed. I shuffle over to hug him. He returns it woodenly, hardly even touching me. I stare at him, baffled, as I release him, stepping back slightly on account of his tepid response. Is he angry at me? Did I forget something important? I’ve been in my own head lately and haven’t been as attentive as usual, but he’s never acted like this before.
“I have news. I was called by my clan to return home. Permanently,” he speaks in a stilted voice. Not his usual cadence.
“Oh,” I gasp, nearly shocked to silence. “When shall we leave?”
“I leave now. I am already packed. I am sorry, Ada, but I am going alone.” He’s acting possessed. This isn’t like him.
“We’re supposed to go together. We already agreed we’d visit,” I remind him, my voice rising in panic.
“We did, but plans change,” he responds, utterly emotionless.
“When are you coming back?” I ask desperately, my hands moving to his chest, caressing him, trying to soften him.
“I am not.” His clipped, cruel answer sends me shaking, my hands now trembling on his shoulders. His hands circle mywrists and move them between us so I’m no longer touching him.
“What?What do you mean? What does that mean for us?” I gulp, my voice weak behind the growing lump in my throat.
“It is for the best that we part ways forever. I am sorry, Ada. I never intended for this to happen.” He looks above me, distance in his expression, as he callously tells me this. My heart stops in my chest.
“But why? What did I do?” I clamor for answers, my voice breaking as I start to sob.
“It has nothing to do with you. My place is with my people, and I must go back. For good. We were always doomed to fail. Our worlds are too different. I should not have led you on.” His words sound rehearsed.
“That’snonsense. We agreed to spend time with your family. To figure out our next step. If you need to go back for a little while, or even a long while, go ahead. I’ll wait for you. We’ll figure out the distance. We can still speak every day until you return or when I’m able to join you. My parents... my parents… being gone… doesn’t change that. I can leave here. Leave this house. You mean more to me than anything left here. We can make our own future. Don’t throw this away. I love you so much. You’re my mate. My everything. I can’t live without you,” I argue, raising my voice even as it quivers uncontrollably.
“I made my decision,” he asserts in frightening calm.
Why won’t he listen to me? He can’t leave! I need to hold him. Kiss him. Make love to him until he sees reason. I try to break my hands free from his grasp, but he firmly locks them in place like he can read my mind.
“I am no longer your mate. Your commitment to me is dissolved.” His eyes shutter with an impenetrable barrier. His icy, detached tone leaves no room for misinterpretation. I’ve lost him.
“Don’t do this! It doesn’t make any sense. You’re not telling me something. What happened there? Is your family okay? I will help you figure it out! Anything you need! I can’t lose you,” I wail, hyperventilating and nearly breathless.
“I will always treasure our time together. But this is goodbye. Forever.” His eyes lower to my mouth and linger there. His body draws into me slightly, pulling the faintest gasp from me. At the sound, he stiffens up again, restoring that distance between us. Before I can find my voice again, he abruptly raises my hands, still joined with his, and kisses them hard with a barely suppressed fervor he hasn’t shown in this entire conversation.
My breath hitches on a sob, making me gulp for air. He doesn’t look at me as he drops my hands. I reach for him out of instinct, but he steps back briskly to avoid me. And then he turns around and rushes away.
I try to catch up to him, but my shaky body won’t cooperate. “Don’t go!” I beg, openly sobbing as he reaches the door. He doesn’t even look back as he walks out of my life.
When I fall to the floor, there’s no impact. Just nothingness. Like I’m sinking through it. The blinding pressure in my head pushes away the world, all that’s painful, distorting and muting everything outside my mind. I lose all sense of reality, my tether to it severed now that I’m completely alone. There’s nothing left for me there anyway.
Norrell’s a ghost now. Another ghost in this house, haunting me the rest of my days. Until I’m a ghost too.
I discreetly wipe a tear from my eye as I step into the kitchen. Norrell set the kitchen table exactly as we used to when it was the two of us here. Our respective plates, his piled much higherthan mine, sit in front of our preferred seats. The sight makes my stomach lurch, throwing into focus the last time he did this. Itwasthe day he left. I would have given anything at that moment for him to stay. Now I’d give anything for him to leave. There’s a bitter irony in that I’ll have to analyze later if I’m going to get through this meal in an agreeable mood. Maybe even a touch pleasant if he’s lucky.
Taking a seat, I’m surprised to see an omelet on my plate along with the sausage links. He must have dug through my fridge for the vegetables and cheese. He brewed coffee, too, and poured some in my favorite mug. How did he know?
