You might be my fated mate.
"Nothing. Except that I still kind of feel like you're on Niall's side." I eyed him like I was irritated.
I was, but that wasn't abnormal for me. He might even think I was joking about it.
He chuckled. "I don't think there's a right side to be on. Shit went down, and you both lost something you couldn't get back."
That was the best description of the night that I'd ever heard.
"He hardly took his eyes off you, so I don't think he's moved on," Jonah added.
"He hasn't," I admitted.He'd made that clear during the days he'd spent at my house.
"You talk about it like it's an open wound. Haveyoureally moved on?"
Our couch was still in my living room.
Our mattress was still my bed.
A few of his paintings were still sitting in the corner of his studio in my house, because even in my rage, I didn't have it in me to destroy them.
Or worse: return them to him and put our relationship to rest for good.
"I should never have let him into my life," I said quietly.
"When you let someone in, parts of them never leave."
The words struck me. Hard.
"That's deep for you, Jonah," I said sarcastically, trying to lighten the conversation again.
He chuckled.
"I can't talk about this anymore. We're listening to the audiobook," I decided.
I didn't hear more than a few words when I hit play, though.
Because he was right.
When you let someone in, parts of them never leave.
And I'd never been willing to let go of the ones Niall left me with.
eight
LIV
I showedup early for the girls' night with a bottle of sparkling cider that had been spiked by the nymphs. They used some kind of herbs made to relax us, a blend made just for my family.
Well, just for Callum and Merrily.
It worked super well for me for a few hours, but the hangover was shitty. There was no way past that. My magic made me move, no matter how relaxed I was.
Dare didn't touch the cider, obviously. That would be an incredibly stupid decision on his part.
Merrily lifted an eyebrow in my direction when she saw the cider, from where she sat on her couch. Her massive kitchen and living room flowed into each other, like mine did, but she was almost always on one of the many couches and comfortable chairs distributed through her house.
Touching most things set off the overwhelming discomfort her magic caused her, and her overstimulation looked pretty similar to my panic attacks when it really hit.
