“Victor, wait…”
But he was already opening the door, already stepping through, and his expression told her that if she pushed now, whatever thin thread held this together would snap entirely.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ava.”
The door closed behind him.
Mia exhaled slowly. “Well. That demon is completely gone for you.”
Ava dropped her head into her hands, pressing her palms against her eyes until she saw stars. “This is a disaster.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” The word was muffled against her palms. “He’s my boss. He’s ancient. He’s from a dimension adjacent to hell. He had a girlfriend whodiedand he hasn’t dated anyone since the eighteen-nineties.”
“Nobody’s perfect.” Mia moved closer, the couch dipping under her weight, and wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulders. “Besides, he cooks. And he washes dishes. Do you know how rare that is?”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” She squeezed. “But seriously, I’ve watched you date human guys for years. Investment bankers who couldn’t name a single book. Law students who talked about themselves for three hours straight. That guy who pronounced ‘espresso’ wrong on purpose because he thought it was charming.”
“Jonathan wasn’t that bad.”
“Jonathan was exactly that bad.” Mia pulled back enough to look at her. “I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. And I’ve never seen anyone, human, demon, or otherwise, look at you the way he does.”
“How does he look at me?”
“Like you hung the moon.” Mia paused. “And like he’s absolutely terrified that you’re going to realize he’s not good enough for you.”
Ava lifted her head. “He said that?”
“He didn’t have to.” Mia handed her the wine glass with the air of a doctor prescribing medication. “Come on. Ice cream andterrible reality TV. Doctor’s orders. No thinking about demon boyfriends for at least two hours.”
“Fake boyfriend.”
“Sure, honey.” Mia was already heading for the freezer. “Whatever helps you sleep.”
They curled up with Ben & Jerry’s and the remote, the TV casting blue light across the room. Some reality show about people renovating houses and screaming at each other about backsplashes. Mia provided commentary. Ava didn’t hear any of it.
She kept seeing Victor’s face when Mia asked about feelings that lasted longer than forty-nine days. The way he’d opened his mouth to answer. The way he hadn’t.
The way he’d fled like a man running from something he couldn’t outpace.
Forty-nine days.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She grabbed it too fast, nearly knocking over her ice cream.
Victor:I apologize for leaving like that.
She stared at the message until the screen started to dim. Typed three words. Deleted them. Typed four different ones. Deleted those too. Tried a third time and gave up.
Finally, before she could talk herself out of it:
Did you mean what you said?
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
The response came slowly:
