She wished Cevanorëoffered day passes to outsiders, she thought, her nerves jangling all the way to the valet stand.
She’d like to take Ainsley here for an afternoon. It would be like visiting a zoo, allowing him to gawk and take in the tightly constrained atmosphere in which these elves chose to live their lives. She understood it. They wereallaware of the future. They didn’t make community with outsiders for a reason, and it was a good reason. Not a reason for everyone, herself included, but she understood it.
But seeing it up close, sitting in that dining room beneath the vaulted ceiling with its sparkling chandelier and fine silver . . . it was a cage. A beautifully gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless, and perhaps he might better be able to understand elves like Lurielle and Silva if he were able to see it and experience it himself.A cage to which Silva had not flown back.She understood that, too.Good thing there’s an alternative for those of us who don’t fit the mold. At least, there will be soon.
Silva
“Are we going to have a fun time on our visit today?”
Aelin nodded as Silva knelt to put on her shoes, thought about it further as Silva buttoned her cardigan, her little eyes narrowing, looking so much like Tate that it nearly took her breath away, giving Silva a look of absolute offense.
“Are yousurewe’re not visiting Dini?”
Tannar’s mother had eschewed any of the traditional modern names for an Elvish grandmother, insisting it made her feel old, instead picking a diminutive of her first name. Silva had told herself that they’d escaped before any lasting damage could be done, but it was telling how concerned Aelin was over the possibility that theymightbe going to see Tannar’s family.
“We’re not, bunny. I promise. Remember what I told you? Today we’re going to visit our friend Tate,” Silva affirmed, straightening the bow in her hair.
Her little dress was a fern-green pinafore, topped with a snow-white cardigan embroidered with pink tulips and seed pearls. The collar and bottom hem were trimmed in embroidered laceof the same pink, with pearl buttons. Silva almost felt foolish dressing her daughter up like a little doll for this introduction but it felt appropriate, all things considered.A perfect little doll of a daughter.
She wondered if he would recognize his own mother’s handiwork.
“He was in the hospital, that’s who you had to visit while I was at Nana’s house.”
“That’s right! And now he’s home.”
The irony of calling him her friend was not lost on her. She remembered well that long-ago night at the club in Bridgeton, she was so sure he would label her ashis friend, already certain she would fall to pieces when he did.
Even so, it was the best she could do.Friendwas as much goodwill as she was willing to give him upfront. Anything more would feel too much like a promise, and Silva was not in the business of breaking promises to her daughter. She wasn’t going to start now.A frienddidn’t promise permanence. It didn’t open a door that might close again.
Aelin considered Silva’s words as she picked up her rabbit. “Was he sick? Should we bring him soup?”
Silva laughed lightly, kissing her daughter on the forehead. Her current favorite book featured a hedgehog bringing soup to a sick friend, the badger next door, and, as a certified soup lover, Aelin brought it up constantly.
“We can pack some soup for your lunch. That’s a good idea. Maybe he’ll have some with you.”
She already knew that regardless of whatever his personal preference might be, Tate would choke down the blood soup and act as if it were the finest delicacy that had ever crossed his lips. There was no concern that he would act poorly with Aelin, that he would ignore her, or hurt her feelings. She had been twisting for seventy-two hours over what his decision might be, whetheror not he’d be there. But if hewas. . . Silva knew without question that he’d treat her daughter like a tiny queen, as he’d always treated Silva herself. There was no need to worry about a halfway performance. He knew how to commit to the bit fully, if nothing else.
There was so much riding on a single afternoon.
She didn’t like thinking of it that way, but it felt disingenuous to pretend otherwise. She had not contacted him. She couldn’t even if she’d wanted to, Silva realized guiltily, as his phone was still in her possession. She had no ideawhathe’d chosen, and they wouldn’t find out until they’d arrived.
If he was gone, the apartment empty, cleared of his presence, that was the end.
It didn’t matter how much she still loved him, which she did. Didn’t matter what she’d hoped for. Whatever choice he’d made going into today would be the choice they both lived with forever, for there was no walking back on it after this.Which means all of this, all the tears, all of the searching, it might be all for nothing.
“Mommy, are you cold?”
She hadn’t realized her hands were shaking until Aelin’s question brought her up short. “No, bunny rabbit. Are you ready to go?”
She listened with half an ear to her daughter’s chatter from the backseat as they made their way back to Greenbridge Glen. She wondered if Tate would recognize the crease between his daughter’s brows during moments of concentration, or the tilt of her head when she considered the world before her, a gesture Silva had watched on them both a million times before, one Aelin hadnotlearned from her. There were pieces of him in her every gesture and smile, in her laugh, in her little expressions. She wondered if he would see it as clearly as she had for the last three years.
Her eyes raised to the rearview mirror just in time to watch Aelin put her hands up as if she were on a ride at the fair, giggling as they passed theNow Leaving Cambric Creeksign.
What if he’s gone?What if he had decided this was too much for him, not what he wanted, what if she was asking him to give more than he was able?Then you know. And you can stop spending any more time thinking about him.It would be a definitive ending, and she needed to reconcile herself to that possibility before they arrived.
And even more daunting — what if he’d stayed?
What if he’d decided he wanted to slip back into his previously occupied place in her life? Three years ago, she had been nearly hysterical for exactly that. She’d been desperate to bring him home, to bring him back to her side . . . but was she still?
