Page 90 of Wished

Let him go.

When I look into Max’s eyes, the goodbye there for him to see, he makes a ragged sound and shakes his head.

“No,” he says, spanning his hands over my jaw, cupping my cheeks. “No. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. Together.”

He stares at me just like he did the first time we argued in this same spot. His gaze sears my mouth, and my lips tingle and ache under the need in his expression. He wants to kiss me—an angry, punishing, teeth and tongue and need-filled kiss.

Unlike last time, I let him.

No.

I kisshim.

I stand on my tiptoes and press my mouth to his.

He makes a desperate noise, his mouth ravaging mine, the heat of him imprinting on me. His hands spread over my face, tilting my mouth so he can plunge inside. He bites, swears, fights, and claims. And all the while I claim him back. I drag my hands over him, touching every inch of his face, his chest, his shoulders, his heart. With each ragged breath, each heated kiss, each desperate draw of my hands over him, and every whispered plea, I tell him,I love you, I love you, I’m sorry, I’m leaving, don’t forget, I love you.

When he pulls away, shaking, wild-eyed, ragged-breathed, I back away slowly across the thick, luxurious rugs, through the elegant columned library, through the weight of air that feels as thick and as sharp as glass.

I stop at the library door and cast a last plea to the necklace.Let him go.

“Don’t,” Max says, standing in the shadows, expecting me to come back to him. “Anna. Don’t.”

I love you,I want to shout.I love you.

Instead I whisper, “Goodbye.”

32

The darkness is absolute.I wonder about that, but then I decide I don’t care because the hammering in my head is extreme. I’m sure even a sliver of light would feel as if my skull were being cracked open and my brain shoveled onto a cutting board.

I wandered the streets of Geneva for hours last night, the dark churches, the tall spires not quite reaching the stars, and the old, watchful stone buildings keeping me company in my solitude.

At two in the morning, after haunting the streets for hours, I found myself at the edge of the water, looking up at the giant engagement ring glittering in the moonlight where it hung over the Barone showroom. The building was eerily quiet, the windows shuttered, the lights dim. Without the lights, without the glitter of gems or the promise of Max in his office upstairs, the building was an empty shell, a lonely reflection on the water.

I stood for a long time while the water lapped behind me, splashing quietly against concrete, the infrequent sound of a car’s engine cutting through the silence letting me know I wasn’t entirely alone. An insubstantial mist hovered at the water’s edge and blanketed the air in a damp chill. Still, I didn’t leave.

Not until I heard sirens in the distance. Then I looked to the east to find the Abry clock glowing with the time. I’d been standing there at the water’s edge, in the center of the city, for nearly an hour. The streets were empty, the bridges quiet, the ducks and swans asleep. I’d not seen another soul.

I felt so heavy, as if my blood had been replaced with lead and it was impossible to move my arms or legs. There was a weight on me. It had started in the library with my last wish, and it continued to grow heavier with every breath.

It was the opposite of the glowing lightness I’d felt with my first wish. What else could it mean except that I was being pushed back down, shoved back into my life? I flew for a bit, soaring on love, and now I’m falling, not flying, gravity sending me back to earth.

The question is, when I slam into the cobblestones, will Max be there to catch me? Or will the wish, and all that came with it, wither and die as quickly as a wilting flower?

Will he?

Won’t he?

Will I?

Won’t I?

Those were the words that fluttered around me, thrown out on the wind, while Geneva slept. And then I hit a point of exhaustion so deep I stumbled across the empty street, grabbed the rough bark of tree to steady myself, tripped through the grass, and then collapsed heavily onto a wooden bench. I fell asleep, my eyelashes fluttering as I stared out over the black water smudged with evening lights, imagining I could make out the lonely, stark façade of Max’s home.

And now, darkness.

Absolute darkness.

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