“Aren’tyouthe one who told me you bullied him into being your friend in the first place?” she challenged. “That doesn’t sound like someone who was using you. To me, that sounds like someone who recognized the way you sparkle. I don't know, I'm not close enough to this, not the way the rest of you are. But the whole thing seems to me like he was trying to mitigate the damage."
With everyone except Silva.She wasn't lying to Ainsley. He had told her himself the way he had basically twisted Tate's arm into being his friend, but Silva. . . Silva he should have left alone. He's a piece of shit for that, and if he ever pokes his head back through the veil, I'm going to hit him with a fucking bat.She knew well enough to keep thoughts of Silva to herself.
"I don't know what to say about Elshona. I don't think shemeantto keep you in the dark about things. You yourself said the first rule of Tate is don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, right? You wouldn't have said that if you didn'tsuspect something hinky. Well, she already read to the end, and you were right. The book sucks."
He snorted and she took the opportunity to scooch a bit closer.
"Yeah, well . . . I think he did a bang up job of mitigating the damage for the businesses. Well done. I don’t have family, Nanaya. Not the way most orcs do. It’s just me and my mom. I had nine million ‘friends,’ and two people I could actually count on. What do I have now?”
Me, she wanted to scream.Don’t you have me?
“I don't think I can stay here anymore. It's like everywhere I look, there’s just another reminder that nothing in my life has been real for the past however the fuck long."
She blinked rapidly, panic suddenly crowding her chest. "W-what do you mean? What are you going to do?" Her voice was little more than a whisper, her nails biting into the meat of her palm in anticipation of what he might say.
"I'll move back to Bridgeton. They're gearing up to ask me to do that anyway. I may as well start packing. Tell them I want the promotion and a raise and put this place behind me. That's what you're supposed to be able to do, apparently, right? Just walk away and put things behind you?"
She didn't know enough about grief, hadn't experienced it enough on her own, but she knew he was grieving and wasn't handling it well. This withdrawal into himself wasn't healthy, but she would do better to hold her tongue, present that idea under gentler circumstances.
“Again, I'm not close enough to all of this, Ains, but I'msorrythat you're hurt. It hurts me knowing that you're hurting. I just want us to be back to —”
"What us?" His eyes were sad when he looked at her again, and she remembered that agonized look that had taken up residence on his face in those weeks after their visit to his mother's apartment. "What us, Ris? You go out of your way toconstantly remind me that this isn't anything serious. You don’t want anything serious.Phew, thank the stars we’re not actually serious! Okay, I get the message. Sousjust feels like one more thing in my life that isn't real. So I don't really know whatusis."
If he would've driven his fist into her ribs, she wouldn't have felt as breathless as she did at that moment. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, her lungs having completely forgotten their function in her chest.What us?
"What do you mean ‘what us?’" Her voice was small, with none of her trademark brashness, her bravado failing her. Ris felt another grain of sand slip away, these silly arguments, the silly things that would be meaningless in two years, ten years, twenty. "I thought we both agreed that this was —" she broke off, eyes burning with tears. "I don't understand, Ainsley. We've always been on the same page. What changed?"
He seemed at as much of a loss as she was herself, shrugging halfheartedly, staring across the room. "I have. I have, I guess. I’m sorry. You’re right. You were upfront about what you wanted, right from the beginning. But whatever this is . . . I don't think this is enough for me anymore.”
The tears overflowed. She couldn't have imagined that night, sitting in the dark with him on the patio of Tate's little bistro more than a year ago, that someday her heart would be breaking from something he told her.
"I'm going to start looking for a place in the city this week," he went on, his voice a touch more defiant and steady. "We’re all month-to-month here anyway. I'll have to use a moving company, since I don't have a best friend to help schlep boxes with his broken back this time around."
He turned, meeting her eyes, and Ris felt frozen, like a small animal trapped in his warm brown headlights, unable to so much as blink. "You can come with me, Ris. If you want this to be something real. Otherwise, this is where we need to call it. I’msorry if this isn’t what you want, but I needsomething in my life to feel real. My diorama days are over.”
Silva
Silva swayed in place, looking up at the Gildersnood sign. She had not been here since that night with him, and didn’t know how she was meant to enter now, not without hearing his laughter ringing across the pub like a shimmering bell, recounting his day with her and everything he’d mislearned.
It had been a mistake, she realized now, bringinghimto Cambric Creek. A terrible, awful mistake.
She had spent so much time daydreaming of having him there, of having him close. What she would show him, what they would do. So many of those plans enacted on, once she got the chance. She had never considered what it would be like for her here now, once they were done. She had never allowedthatto even be a consideration. Unthinkable.
Now, though, now that he was gone . . . he was everywhere she turned.
She could never walk into the Black Sheep Beanery again without hearing his covert whisper, asking if anyone had a job before ordering the honey latte and marveling over the nonstopcrowd of every species. She would never stand happily again before the waterfall, could never take another carefree walk along the creek. She couldn't go to the observatory, and would never again be able to drive through Oldetowne. She could still hear his laughter echoing down the sidewalk as they left the bookstore, and would never be able to hear the discordant clang above the odd little teashop’s doorway without envisioning him there, petting the cat.
She had shown him the salon where she got her nails done, the little boutique where she’d bought the lingerie he’d peeled off her so many times. She'd tried to show him every corner of her little world, and now he still existed there, echoing in each.
If he could not be here at her side, Cambric Creek was ruined for her for good.
"Silva! Oh my stars, I'm so happy to see you!" Dynah's voice rang out across the parking lot, her auburn curls bouncing along, before she flung her arms around Silva. "Ris just texted me, she's already inside."
The choice of entering was taken from her as Dynah pulled her along, the other elf's fingers latching around her wrist determinedly. The noise overwhelmed her. Happy hour used to befun, used to be something she looked forward to — socializing with her friends, people who thought of her as more than just a pretty doll, as more than Silva of the Daytime. She wasn't sure how true that was, not anymore.
Ris had been a good friend when everything had happened, as good a friend as she was able. She texted daily and stopped by at least twice a week, at least for those first two weeks. Silva knew she'd likely been a nuisance, but she appreciated Ris overlooking that fact. She and Lurielle had both been as supportive as they could be.
What Silva couldnotget over, on the other hand, was how thoroughly scandalized Lurielle had seemed by the entire affair.Ris had shared with her what transpired that strange afternoon in the office at Clover, and the things Elshona had told them. Lurielle had shaken her head, seemingly still in shock, the day she and Ris had both come to Silva's apartment to check on her.
