And with that, we part ways. Ash goes back to the ice cream tent, and I return to our tea stand.
At exactly two o’clock, cheerful, festival-style instrumental music begins playing through the carefully hidden speakers, and tourists enter the fairgrounds.
“Here we go,” Nadine says, thriving on the joyful chaos. She adjusts the family of hedgehogs she plans to give away and puts on a welcoming smile.
I would normally love this as well, but a dozen other things take up space in my head.
With a sigh, I parrot, “Here we go.”
A huge,sparkling firework blooms over the nearby trees, eliciting happy squeals from the tourists.
Rowan and I stand near the front of the fairgrounds, close to the entrance, watching Ansel’s display.
“It’s amazing he doesn’t light the forest on fire,” I say. “They’re so close.”
“I’m sure he cast wards that prevent it,” Rowan says, not as impressed as the human spectators. I guess if you see them every week, they probably lose a little of their magic.
I don’t usually stay in town for the Saturday night fireworks, but we decided to keep the tea shop open late since it’s a festival day, so we were here anyway. We closed fifteen minutes ago, and I’m exhausted.
The ice cream social was a success, and Nadine received so many compliments on her matcha ice cream that she’s glowing. Not literally this time, for which I’m sure she’s relieved.
She wandered off after we closed the shop, informing me she’s going to catch a ride home with Jax.
Being back here reminds me of the Firefly Festival. That was the night Rowan and I realized we were bonded. The night that changed everything.
Now here we are, back again, on the cusp of something that could change our lives all over again.
I glance at Rowan, taking in his profile in the sporadic bloom of the fireworks, loving him so much it hurts.
“We need to break the bond,” I find myself saying. “Tonight, we need to do it.”
Even though my words are barely more than an agonized whisper, Rowan hears me. He jerks his head, turning to face me, his expression startled. “Tonight?”
“The longer we wait, the more it’s going to hurt.”
“Are you sure?”
No, but I nod anyway.
“Okay.” He exhales heavily. “We’ll find Ansel after the fireworks are over.”
He turns back toward the display. I stand next to him, sick. A moment later, his hand finds mine. I grasp it, clinging to him. The fireworks are loud and bright, but I barely notice them.
My mind is on Rowan and this thing I can’t believe I said we should do.
I hate it.
But I know it’s right. We can’t move forward with our relationship when it’s built on an unstable foundation.
The night sky is a riot of deafening explosions as we reach the finale. And then, right at the end, fireworks shaped exactly like three ice cream cones light up the sky. They dissolve into sparkling butterflies and flutter to the edges of the night.
People gasp and squeal, wondering how such perfect, detailed and animated shapes could be possible.
“If Ansel did all that for the ice cream social, imagine what he has planned for the fourth,” I say.
“Ash is going to kill him,” Rowan says with a wicked laugh.
“Then we’d best find the sorcerer before he does.”
