Page 32 of Bigfoot's Bride

Dammit. I shake my head. "You know what? Doesn't matter. Zap away."

Enfys studies me, her gaze emotionless.

I rub absently at the ache beneath my breastbone.

Ugh. What is wrong with me? I'm getting exactly what I want. Why does it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest?

Because what exactly are you going back to?

I’m returning to a life of glitz and glamour. Money, recognition.But also a life of superficiality. Falsity. Manufactured appearances.

Is that a real home?

My thoughts again stray to Gruffydd. Sweet, handsome Gruffydd, who looks at me like I hung the moon and stars. Who makes me feel cherished and adored and so very, very alive?—

"He'll never forget you, you know," Enfys’s quiet voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.

I wave a hand dismissively, blinking back tears. "Give it a few months. I'm sure I'll just be a vague memory."

Enfys shakes her head, her expression almost pitying. "That's not how it works for us, Kiki. Fated mates are for life. Once we find our true soulmate, there will never be another."

I stare at her, my mind reeling. "You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I assure you, I’m quite serious.”

Wait. Hold up. "You're saying all that soulmate, destiny talk wasn’t just a mushy, over-the-top pickup line? It was for real?"

"As real as it gets," Enfys confirms. "Trust me, I know. I lost my mate fifty years ago, and to this day, the thought of even looking at another male repulses me."

“What does that mean, exactly?” Suddenly panicky, I grasp her large furry arm. "He'll just...stay single? Forever?"

"Of course," Enfys says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're it for him, Kiki. His one and only."

I feel like I've been sucker punched. Gruffydd's talk of soulmates takes on new weight. They weren’t just over the top cheesy declarations.

It's too much. Too big. Too terrifying and exhilarating and utterly, utterly overwhelming.

I start to pace, my thoughts finally starting to cohese. At last, the big picture becomes clear. What am I so eager to get back to? A stepmother who only tolerates me because my money pays for her extravagant lifestyle? A staff who listens to me, agrees with me, and placates me only because I sign their paychecks? Friends who are friends only because of what my name and celebrity can do for them?

The persona I'm so desperate to get back to is just as much of a sham as Maria Garcia. It's a mask, a façade. Bougie on the outside, but hollow on the inside.

The real me, the woman underneath, is the woman I've been here, in Grotto.

The Kiki who has found true friendship, true acceptance, true love, that's who I'm meant to be.

"I'm not going."

The words burst out of me, surprising no one but me. But as soon as I say them, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. A sense of rightness settles in my bones.

Enfys breaks into a wide, fanged grin. "You sure about that?”

Never been surer.

“Positive,” I announce decisively.

“Well, then. Let's go share the good news, shall we? Though I warn you," she adds, her expression turning serious, "I doubt my son is handling your supposed departure very well."

As we near Gruffydd’s cave, a resounding crash echoes through the corridor, followed by what sounds suspiciously like a roar of anguish.

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