“You’re not going to sleep in the waiting room,” he says.
“I doubt I’d be able to sleep anyway.”
“I’m calling a ride for you.”
“No, it’s fine…” I trail off because he’s already doing it.
“I’ll wait with you until the driver gets here.”
“That’s all right. You can go home.”
He studies me. “How are you doing? Any lingering effects from breaking the bond?”
I shake my head. “I feel fine.”
Just lonely—and I don’t like it. I miss the magic that connected me to Rowan. It was comforting and quiet, and though I didn’t notice it when it showed up, I can feel its absence now.
Ansel and I wait in silence until a horse and cart pulls up in front of the clinic, and then the sorcerer walks me outside. The wet concrete walkways glisten in the clinic’s outdoor lights. A steady drizzle continues to fall, but the storm is quieter now than it was earlier.
“Evening, Kit,” Hudson says from the cart’s protective cover. He’s driving a cabriole like Ash’s tonight. “Heading home?”
I nod, getting into the cart.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ansel lingers next to the step, uncomfortable. “Let me know if you notice anything weird.”
“I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Did something happen?” Hudson asks as we start down the street, casting a concerned look back at the clinic.
“Rowan and Ansel were messing with magic,” I say.
“Rowan’s not with you. Is he all right?”
“The doctor said he’ll be fine.”
I pull my phone from my purse and text him, hoping everyone will leave him alone long enough that he can respond.
But my phone is silent for the entire ride home.
Chapter 25
What Good is a Cell Phone if the Owl Won’t Use It?
Iwake up at just after five in the morning and immediately grab my phone off the nightstand.
But there’s still no text from Rowan.
I flop back onto the pillow, feeling despondent. Is he still feeling too rough to answer a text? Or is he avoiding me because his feelings have changed and he doesn’t know how to tell me?
I know where I stand, but I don’t know the state of his heart. He said he loved me before we fused our magic, but what if…
What if.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower because it doesn’t matter what’s going on in my personal life—I still have to open the tea shop.
As I stand under the hot spray, I think about our conversation in front of the cottage after Ash dropped us off the night before last—about Rowan wanting to own the tea shop. Even if he doesn’t love me anymore, that could still be our future if he wants it. Even if we’re just friends.
My heart aches as my mind concocts a dozen different scenarios of rejection. I think the only reason I fell asleep last night was pure exhaustion.
