Pain flashes through his eyes, but he only nods, silently telling me to continue.
“You wouldn’t listen to reason, no matter how much I tried to make you. You threatened to—”
I stop. Can’t say it.
“To what?” he asks quietly, his voice reminding me of a pot on a low simmer.
“It’s not important.” He doesn’t need to know about the blackmail. That’s one thing I can spare him. “I did the only thing I could think of to help.”
“What was that?”
“I found a spell book.”
“What?” someone murmurs.
“Witchcraft,” another says.
“Everybody quiet down,” he commands. “Let her finish.”
A bit of hope buoys inside me. Maybe I haven’t ruined everything after all.
But then he grinds out in a voice so icy the hard edges of it scrape over my heart, “Tell us what you did.”
My insides coil tight, and it feels like my I’m about to crack open. “It was supposed to be a prank,” I explain, trying to salvage something of my dignity. “But I ... I made a potion and gave it to you.”
A cold sheen flashes over his eyes. “And then?”
“You lost your memory.”
The peanut gallery chimes:
“His memory?”
“He has amnesia?”
“Is that why he came to our book club?”
The candlelight was warm when I arrived, but now the room is stifling. Sweat runs down my spine and sprouts on my palms. I need to get out of here and into fresh air.
“Go on,” he tells me in a chilly voice.
When I look up at him, his jade eyes have turn to flint. My throat shrivels to the size of a pea. I’m lost. But there’s no going back.
“I couldn’t leave you the way you were, so I became your friend. I looked for a cure.”
“Then why aren’t I cured?”
“At first, I couldn’t find it.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And then I waited.” The crowd erupts into gasps again, and I plead with them, “Because Stone was a different person. The potion knocked out his memory, but it also softened something. Before, he was different, rough. But after—he cared about our land, about our town. He changed the materials so the resort wouldn’t disrupt the magic.”
My gaze locks on Clarice. “He came to our book club. Everyone loved him.” I whirl toward Stone. “This whole time, you’ve worried about who you were, about being someone worthy, and I didn’t know you well, but I can tell you the person you were before didn’t care for Hercules. You hated him. But now? You don’t leave him anywhere. You bought him a bed. He loves you and you love him.”
I press a hand to the base of my throat. “I didn’t change you. You becameyou, and I fell for that person. Yes, it was my fault, but I’ve never lied about my feelings. In fact, I triednotto fall for you because I was scared to, scared that when you remembered, you’d hate me.
“But, Stone”—the words clog my throat and tears blur my eyes—“the truth is, you helped me see myself in ways I never have. You made me believe I was someone worth seeing, and I’ll never forget that.”
Stone wipes a hand down his face. “The engagement? It was a lie?”
The wordliecomes out slowly, like his mind is trying to wrap around it. He gazes at the floor, but when he looks up at me, his eyes brim with hurt, betrayal.
