Gods, that’s her favorite word.
“I can’t do this, Iris. I’m sorry. I thought maybe, but?—”
Her face falls as I untangle her limbs from mine, and the dampener constricts as I watch her hope turn to agony.
Unable to say anything more, I repeat the words again, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She stands, face slack as she watches me duck through the doorway, but she doesn’t try to follow, and thank fates she doesn’t. The longer I look at her, the more it hurts.
Chapter23
Still Mine
IRIS
Elliot’s lucky.I know he doesn’t think so, and I understand why it might not seem like it, but I think he might be the luckiest person in the world. Him and every other wolf born to bear the Cross curse. I envy him for it.
I even wish we could trade places, and it would be him whose tea didn’t taste right this morning, and him who can’t seem to pick up the little green book because it makes him think of me.
I wish it were him who has to hold his breath when he passes the flower shop on 5th because it reminds him of his mom, and him who can’t go to the teahouse on 3rdbecause it was his father’s favorite.
I wish I’d never known love, and he were heartbroken instead of me.
But then I realize that I could never be so cruel. Not to him. Not in a hundred years.
“Hey,” Kitty mutters beneath her breath as she joins our little table at the back of the library.
It grows cluttered as she unpacks her bottomless bag, but Elsie doesn’t seem to mind. She’s nose deep in the pages of an old book on fate binding, and she doesn’t so much as glance up as Kitty takes her seat.
“Hi,” I say.
Before yesterday, I would’ve asked her what she’s reading, and she would smile sweetly and detail every step of her current project while Elsie and I listened, happily asking questions as she went. But that was yesterday, when my tea still tasted right.
Now, I just go back to my book. Though I don’t make it very far down the page before my phone vibrates across the table.
I groan as I watch it buzz. There are only two possibilities for who’s on the other side, and I’m not happy about either of them.
Eater #1
Check in.
My eyes roll, but I respond without delay. I don’t want him barging into the library, disturbing the peace. He is much harder to ignore with all six feet, six inches of him standing in front of you.
Library
I set the phone face down to keep myself from picking it up and typing out the message I’ve thought to send at least a hundred times.
I imagine it goes something like this:
Fuck off.
Delete my number.
Do not speak to me ever again.
Eat a dick....
It goes on that way for a while.
