The woman nods. ‘I used to adore romance books.’
‘Used to?’
She grimaces. ‘Before my divorce; I learned that love comes with legal fees.’
I watch her study the book’s cover. ‘It’s been three years, and my friends say I should start dating again. I don’t know where to start.’
The urge to tell her about all the horrible things I have seen about love is strong. I would love to go on a date without my curse spoiling it.
The woman is looking at me. ‘Do you have anyone special in your life?’
I shake my head. ‘Dating is not for me.’
‘I wish I were like you,’ observes the woman, repositioning her glasses. ‘The thing is, I’ve started gazing fondly at couples at restaurants, in the theatre and at music concerts and wishing I had someone to lean against, someone to laugh with and someone to share my life with. Sad, eh?’
She taps her card against the card reader. ‘I will read this and see what happens.’
‘Good luck because… you will need it.’ The last part must have come out a little too strong, as she gives me an odd look.
I serve two customers and look up to see Eva. The sight of her gazing at me sends my stomach into a nauseating spin. In my head, I can still hear her angry screams at me.
You’re jealous, Nelly. I never want to see you again.
The memory of the day she moved out rushes back. Karl came with her to pack up her stuff. She must have told him about me, as on the stairs, he called me a nasty bitch.
I gulp back a wave of emotion.
Her blonde hair is styled into a shoulder-length bob. She wears a loose sweatshirt, jeans, and trainers, and as she moves towards the till, and an awkward silence descends over us both. I notice she isn’t wearing any makeup, which is peculiar. When we shared a flat, Eva’s desk always resembled a make-up counter at Boots. Eva was the one who taught me how to apply foundation, eye shadow, mascara, and do a bit of contouring. Maybe Karl prefers her to look natural.
‘Hi, Nelly,’ she says quietly.
‘Hello.’
She picks up one of the pens for sale on the counter and fiddles with it. With her eyes fixed on the pen, she says, ‘I need to say some things.’
My defences are rising. ‘What things do you need to say?’
‘Karl and I have split up.’
An uncomfortable feeling takes hold of me. Was my curse right?
She places the pen back in its box. ‘Everything in my life is a mess. His and Esther’s betrayal still hurts me.’
I should never question my curse. It is always right.
‘I still can’t believe Karl made me give up my BookTok account. But that’s not what I wanted to say.’ She looks at me directly. ‘I’m sorry about what happened between us, and I want to be your friend again.’
I blink a few times. I’m close to accepting her apology and hugging her, but I stop myself. She could have a new man in her life, and my vision might show me their love ending. Do I want to risk touching her when my curse will surely ruin everything again?
I can’t do it. After she moved out, I spiralled. It took me months to recover. I shudder with shame at all the pain and suffering my curse caused.
‘Please, Nelly, I miss your friendship.’
The risk of hurting her and myself again is too high. Friendships are not for me. ‘Thanks for apologising, it means a lot. I don’t think we should go back to being friends though.’
‘Why not?’
‘My curse is too much of a burden.’ Tears sting my eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
