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“Well, how does it feel?” she asks after a few moments. “To have completed the program?”
I bite my lip. “You know what, Marge? My pussy feels pretty damn powerful.”
I think back on everything that’s happened over the summer, all the scenarios I found myself in trying to follow her rules. If it weren’t for Marge’s rules nudging me forward, I wouldn’t have reconnected with Roman or taken the job as his assistant…or made any of the other amazing memories that I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.
“I’m so happy to hear it,” she says. “You’ve got the glow of a woman in love…”
I smile so wide my cheeks hurt. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to those who understand the feeling,” she says with a wink.
If you would’ve told me three months ago that I’d be gushing over a man—to my therapist of all people—I would’ve asked you to give me some of whatever you were smoking. But here I am, smiling like an idiot, telling her all about the man who stole my heart and eased his way into my life, before I even realized what was happening.
“You changed my life. I hope you know that. I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you…”
There’s an unmistakable twinkle in her eye as Marguerite tilts her head. “There may be one thing you can do for me…”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“I’m writing a sequel.” She wiggles her fingers dramatically. “I’m calling it Pussy Magic: 12 Rules for Turning Pleasure Into Abundance. I just need a few willing test subjects to help me work out the kinks before the official launch.” She peers at me over her reading glasses. “Do you happen to know any interested couples who might enjoy an immersive sexual retreat? I’m thinking somewhere exotic like Aruba or Fiji…” she says, then, as if remembering, adds, “They would, of course, need to pass a physical examination in advance.”
My lips curl into a grin. “I may have some couples in mind. I’ll have to see what I can do.”
“So what will you do now that you’re retiring from acting?” she asks, shifting gears back to me.
“I’m not sure,” I say after a brief pause. “The local community theater is looking for a new director. I’ve always been interested in working behind the scenes. Maybe I’ll try writing or doing some acting lessons?” When I glance up, I notice a sheen in her eyes.
She dabs the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her brightly colored, tie-dyed shirt. “Sounds like you’ve got quite a few options.”
I’m at a crossroads in my life, staring at a blank page. There was a time when I would’ve thought my options were limited, but now I realize there’s no harm in trying things out. It’s the only way I’ll figure out what I want in this life. If only I knew the price for my new life was giving up my old one.
“Yeah. I’m going to keep my options open for a little while. Take it slow and figure out what feels the most aligned.”
“And what about Augustus? Or Claire? Do you plan on pressing charges after finding out they were working together behind your back the whole time?”
I’ll admit, it hurt at first, finding out the person who always claimed to have my back was the one holding the knife. But deep down, I think some part of me always knew. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.
Once I connected the dots between the two of them, everything made a lot more sense. And finding out my mother knew and chose not to tell me? That was just the cherry on top.
I could take them to court. Drag this out. Destroy their lives the way they tried to destroy mine. But I don’t want to give them any more of me. I’d rather move on and be done with it.
I’m done living in the past. Done holding on to my pain just so I never forget what it feels like to be hurt.
And, of course, there’s the comforting knowledge that my billionaire boyfriend holds a grudge far better than I ever could and isn’t above calling in a few or two when the occasion demands it…
“I don’t think either of them are going to be a problem,” I say with a shrug. “Besides, I’d rather just let the universe take care of it.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind. I know a really powerful Etsy witch.”
“You know what, Marge, I’ll keep that in mind.”
EPILOGUE
Roman
Six weeks later…
The sugary scent of kettle corn and cotton candy mingle in the crisp fall air as a gust of wind blows leaves across the cobblestone.
