I miss a step but catch myself before the crowd notices. “And what is that?”
She leans in, and my body pulses. “You’re afraid of a demise that destroys you from the inside out.”
Inside out.
Nightmare is the inside and I’m the outside.
Holy shit.
She is right.
Chelsea nods to the back wall, where a vase of black and gold roses sits. “I thought they were where we left them.”
“Most of them are.”
“Except those.”
“Except those,” I repeat like a fucking bird. “Do I feel safe enough for you? Safe enough where you’ll walk out and choose your own story?”
She blanches and it’s her turn to stumble, but I’m a great dancer, so I catch her before she even notices the slip herself.
“I am choosing my own story,” she murmurs.
“Are you? Being cursed and all.”
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“Then tell me everything.”
She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes wide. She’s not sure if I can be trusted, so I add, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Why not?”
I pause to make sure I’ve heard her correctly. When she doesn’t flinch, I know I have. “I don’t reveal secrets because keeping them is what I do for a living.”
“Nightmares are secrets?”
“They are.”
She tips her chin up. “I have to get married because for my family, magic is a well that must be replenished.”
“And marriage does that?”
Chelsea nods. “And I can marry anyone I want.”
“But that’s not your heart’s desire.”
“That’s an obvious reply.”
Our gazes lock, and I lower my voice. “Because you haven’t lived your life, and being trapped isn’t how you plan to spend the next sixty years on this planet.” I pull back. “How’s that for not obvious?”
Water fills her eyes but doesn’t spill over. Her voice trembles, but only for a beat when she replies, “It’s satisfactory. You get an S on your report card.”
She’s lying! I can smell the lie. It carries the scent of lilies. Push her!
Sheislying—trying to be brave.
My heart kicks against my ribs. Not because Nightmare wants her.
