I let out a sigh. “You are right, of course. But, I guess the fact that I am disappointed is a good sign that I’m ready, right?”
“Of course,” he says. “Baby steps.”
“Baby steps.”
CHAPTER 17
After not getting any updates from Beverly, Jacob, or Beckett, I go home to do a little work. I’m really behind, so I try to update my planner with new goals for the week and month. I then realize that until I get things figured out with Damon, planning anything is probably next to impossible. I mean, I didn’t plan on spending so much time this week running around trying to figure out who cursed me, why, and how to end it. And Damon is just a huge distraction on my mind. Can I trust him? Should I trust him? Do I really like him? Does he really like me? Can I really imagine having a demon as my partner? How long would it last? A lifetime? A month? What would happen after I die? Would he just move on? Would I go to Hell?
I realize that I’m not going to get any work done, so I go into my bedroom to collect the laundry and I’m almost startled when I see the huge picture of Mark and me on our wedding day. I mean, it’s been hanging there since we bought the house more than a decade ago. Most of the time, I don’t even think about it. But for some reason, when I saw it today, it really took me out of myself. All of a sudden, I feel a flood of feelings. But not the same, usual feelings of sadness and regret and guilt. I feel…tired. Weary of all those other feelings. I feel frustrated that those feelings have taken over so much of my life. I just want to…let go.
I take the picture down from the wall and slide it behind my dresser. That does make me feel a little guilty. The desire to move on from a deceased partner is just a different kind of guilt than what I usually feel. I mean, it’s not his fault he’s dead. It’s min— No, I have to change my negative thought patterns, according to Dr. Jaishankar. It’s no one’s fault. In a perfect world, Mark and I would still be together. It’s not right and it’s not fair that we aren’t together anymore. But…that’s just how it is. I can’t change the past. No matter how guilty I feel, no matter how much I torture myself, he won’t come back. So I can either live my life alone—or I can choose another way to live.
Though…this is Mystic Cove. Anything can happen. Cora was dead for more than two hundred years and she came back. There are vampires and zombies, both creatures that were once dead now living full, happy, romantic lives here in Mystic Cove. Is that what’s holding me back? Have I been holding onto a faint chance that Mark could, in fact, come back to me? I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. But, it’s possible.
I go downstairs and find Damon and Mr. Darcy staring at one another.
“Umm, hey,” I say, looking between them. “What’s going on?”
“He knows what I am,” Damon whispers. “And he’s not much happy about it.”
I swear that Mr. Darcy squints his eyes at Damon. I go over and pet the cat on the head. Mr. Darcy doesn’t even acknowledge me. He just keeps his eyes on Damon. Dash trots into the room and rolls over on her back at my feet, asking for belly rubs. I kneel down and give them to her before going over to the cabinet and getting both pets some treats. That seems to break Mr. Darcy out of his spell.
“Do you have anything going on?” I ask Damon.
He puts his hands in his pockets and looks one way, then the other. “Not particularly. Why?”
“I just…need to run a couple of errands,” I say. “I’d really rather run them by myself, but, you know, we can’t really be apart.”
“It has been frustrating to be practically joined at the hip these few days,” Damon says, stretching. I wonder for a minute if he works out. No, surely not. He gets to choose his form, right? So why not choose a perfect body? I wish I could choose to just look perfect and not have to watch what I eat or workout. Is that going to be a problem later? When I get older, get wrinkly, put on weight? I try to shake the thoughts away.
“Yeah, I bet you miss your life in Italy,” I say.
“It’s not that so much,” he says. “But the ability to go where I want, when I want. I mean, as lovely as your home and your company has been, I wouldn’t normally spend an afternoon in a suburban living room staring at a cat.”
Mr. Darcy makes a low growling sound and I swear he is giving Damon the stink eye. If Damon becomes a part of my life, does that mean my cat is destined to spend the rest of his life on edge? I couldn’t do that to him.
“Right,” I say. “Well, anyway, I need to talk to Cora. If we go by the bookstore, will you stay in the car? I don’t want you eavesdropping.”
He mocks looking offended. “I would never. Besides, do I have to stay in the car when Jumpin’ Beans and Olivia’s cinnamon rolls are just across the parking lot?”
“You may go to Jumpin’ Beans,” I say, grabbing my purse.
“Yes,” Damon whispers. I guess even Demons are not immune to the old adage that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
The bell over the door jingles when I enter The Book Coven. Cora looks up and smiles.
“Hey. Where is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Demonic?”
“Getting a cinnamon roll at Jumpin’ Beans.”
“Oh, can he bring me one?” she asks, and I can practically see her mouth watering.
“He’s supposed to wait in the car if he gets done before me,” I say, slinging my bag onto the counter.
“Yeah? What’s going on?”
“I have something…” I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I need to ask you something.”