Page 55 of Signed in Incubus

“Oh, come on, Penelope. You can’t let one tiny mistake overshadow two years together.”

Two years, yet it felt like nothing at all. In hindsight, I couldn’t believe how superficial our interactions had been. We were good together on paper, so we did what we were expected to do: we dated, he proposed, and I said yes. The next step was to get married and pop out two-point-five kids.

But Travis never inspired me to grow as a person, even though it had been clear that he hated my parents’ meddling too. It was like we were each other’s accessory to the picture-perfect life. Nothing more. I wondered how long we would’ve lasted before we were miserable like my parents.

“Leaving someone at the altar is not one tiny mistake.”

“But you don’t know the truth yet.”

“Then please enlighten me. I’m all ears.”

“It wasn’t my fault. Deanna started all this.”

I did my best to keep my face neutral. Why did it always come back to her?

“Travis, I saw the photo,” I said. “I’m pretty sure my cousin didn’t drag you from the wedding venue to Vegas and throw a bunch of hookers on your lap.”

“No, I mean, she told me you were infertile, and you were keeping it from me, and said that the big family inheritance would go to her alone since she’s the only one who’ll be having kids.”

What a load of bull. From what I knew, Granddad was still healthy and spry, and his fortune was being split up evenly amongst his children and grandchildren. This way, no one person would get immensely rich from his death—and it prevented anyone from trying to access the fortune sooner by way of an “accident”.

“You left me over some fake inheritance? She totally made that up.”

“Well, she also said she’d always had the biggest crush on me and promised I’d get half if I married her instead.”

I nearly spat my coffee out all over my laptop. When she first found out Travis and I were dating, Deanna made it very clear she thought she could dosomuch better.

“Holy shit, you really are dumb. Let me guess, Travis, the second you fucked over our relationship, she told you to beat it, right?”

He didn't need to reply. His face said it all. “So, you see. It’s not my fault. Not really.”

“Are you fucking serious? She didn't hold you at gunpoint. It totallyisyour fault. Plus, you just admitted that you left me for the promise of money—fictional money, I might add. You’ve said your piece, Travis. Now leave.”

Gigi was now standing behind him, her hands on her hips. “Yeah, dumbass. Out.”

For a moment, Travis looked like he was about to kick up a fuss, but he thought better of it when Gigi waved a hand. His eyes went wide, and he looked down in a panic. Invisible hands were lifting him up by his underwear.

“OK,” he squeaked. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving.”

He scrambled out the door, throwing a final “Crazy witch!” over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

I blew out a long, exasperated breath. “I can’t believe he told me that like it would justify his actions. He really is completely clueless.”

“So…Deanna again, huh?” Gigi sat in the chair Travis had just vacated. “What’s that bitch got against you, anyway?”

“No freaking clue. She’s been needlessly competitive with me most of our lives. One-upmanship is a family tradition on both sides. She just takes it really seriously, I guess.”

“Well, at least now you know why he took off. And good for you for not taking him back. I was worried you’d be weak because you’re missing he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

“Are you kidding? There’s no way I’d get back together with someone who embarrassed me like that unless he did it to save my life or something—like, if he’d consulted a powerful seer, and she’d told him that I’d be in grave danger if we got married, andthat’swhy he got cold feet.Thenmaybe I’d give him another chance.”

Gigi looked pensive for a moment; then, a crafty look crossed her face.

“What is it?” I did not trust that look. She was up to something.

“What do you mean? Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I recognize that look, Gigi. You just thought of something.”

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