Page 38 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“Good night, Damon,” she says.

Beverly crosses her arms and looks at me disappointingly. “Well, that was rude,” she says once he’s gone.

“Me?” I ask, unstrapping my shoes and kicking them to the floor. “The only person being rude around here is you.”

“Me?” she asks.

“Yes, you!” I say. Mr. Darcy meows at me again and I pet his head before going to find his food. “You were way out of line sending us on a date together.”

“Oh, hogwash,” she says, waving me off like an annoying bug.

“It’s not hogwash,” I say. “You had no right to do that.”

“It’s not me,” she says. “It’s the universe. Take it up with fate.”

“Oh, come on,” I say. “You know I don’t believe in that garbage.”

“Why not?”

“Because it couldn’t have been fate that killed…” I let out a curse and slink back down in my chair. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t really help it. I feel nauseous, maybe from the alcohol, but I’m not sure.

Beverly sighs and fixes me a glass of ice water. She sits in a chair next to me, offering me the glass. I take a long drink and feel a little better almost instantly. I have to wonder if she mixed in a little magical hangover cure with the water.

“Look, I know what you’ve been through,” Beverly says. “I was with you at the hospital, wasn’t I?”

I nod. She was there because she had been with Bella that day. She had been the one to take Bella to the hospital in the hopes of Bella getting a chance to say goodbye. But it was too late.

“Fate didn’t kill Mark,” Beverly says. “And if Mark were still alive, it’s not like you’d still be married to him but then find out your soulmate was a demon and that you’d married the wrong person. I don’t even know all the ins and outs of how it works. This isn’t a power I asked for. All I know is that sometimes the universe sends us what we need when we need it. And if the universe is telling me that the person you need in your life right now is Damon, then I have a duty to make sure you and Damon have a chance to figure that out for yourselves.”

“There is absolutely no way that my soulmate can be a demon,” I say.

“How do you know that?” Beverly asks. “Sophia thought the last person she would ever marry would be a warlock. And do you think Beckett ever imagined he would fall in love with a ghost?”

“That’s still not the same thing as a demon sent to torture me,” I say. “I’m from Mystic Cove. I’d easily date a warlock or ghost. A demon is something completely different.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense.”

“How?” I ask.

“Because you won’t let yourself date anyone,” she says.

“Well, that’s true,” I say. “But that isn’t what we were talking about.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“That’s what my therapist is for.”

“Ha!” Beverly barks a laugh. “I feel sorry for that poor woman. You’ve wasted years of her time with your refusal to make progress.”

“That’s not fair,” I say. “Grief is a process, and I’m allowed to go through that process at my own pace.”

Beverly sighs and sits back in her chair. “Well, that is true. And I suppose I would agree with you if you were making any progress at all. But it seems like you have been stuck in the same place for four years. There is a difference between making progress at your own pace and refusing to make any progress at all. Which is it with you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know sometimes.” I lift my head and look up to the ceiling, at the second floor where I know Damon is. “What’s weird is that I feel like maybe I have made progress this week, ever since you-know-who showed up.”

“Oh,” Beverly says, giving me a nosey smile. “Do tell.”

“It’s nothing big,” I say. “But tonight was the first night in a long time that I had fun. And this whole week has just been…fun.”

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