Page 12 of Evidence of a Folktale

“Oh my god, you’re hopeless.” Bel jumped off the counter and scanned the wine rack before selecting a bottle, patting Cerberus’s head as she passed his kitchen dog bed. “But did you mean it when you said you’re designing this house for me?”

“Yes. Didn’t you notice that?”

“Maybe… but why? It’s your home.”

“It’s my house,” He corrected. “You’re my home.”

“Then how could you contemplate leaving me?” All couples argued. It was how they emerged from the conversation that defined their relationship, and Bel had no doubts that this would strengthen their bond, but it was impossible to undo days of anxiety in a single hour.

“Because home is always home no matter how far you travel, but if your house burns to the ground, you have nothing to return to,” he answered without looking at her. “I want to always have something to return to.”

Bel set the wine bottle down and settled behind Eamon, wrapping her arms around his waist as he sauteed the vegetables. “Do you want help with dinner?” she asked, because how was she supposed to respond to such a heartbreaking answer?

“I’m sorry.” He placed the knife on the counter and leaned all his weight into his hands. “Are you sure I haven’t ruined us? I don’t want my leaving to be the only thing you think when you see me.”

“I was pretty depressed when you left me at my dad’s,” she answered honestly, her lips tracing his spine as she spoke. “It’ll take time to get over it, but that’s relationships. Do you know how many times my dad or sisters said something that pissed me off? Six girls in one house led to a lot of fights. Sometimes we’d be so mad that we wouldn’t speak to each other for days, but I love them more than anything. Actions are what matter, and you’re a man of your word. I know that if you promise to stay, you’ll fight tooth and nail to keep it.”

“I will. I’m not going anywhere, and this time I mean it. Unless you order me away, you’re stuck with me.”

“And your constant requests to move in with you.”

“See, I always knew you were the smartest of us.”

“So, where did a man who never loved anyone learn the importance of communication?” Bel released his waist and returned her focus to the expensive bottle of wine.

“I’ve had friends. This is actually the part of my past that you’ll like.”

“Tell me?” She poured them both a glass before hopping back onto the counter beside the stove. The counter was her unofficial spot when Eamon cooked, and like a moth to the flame, his hand found her thigh.

“It was World War Two,” he started. “By that point in history, I’d grown a conscience, and war was the perfect position for me. No one would miss the blood of dead soldiers, and I could let my inner monster out. Only I started caring about the men in my unit. For the first time in my life, I cared about humans, but they kept dying on me. I couldn’t take it, so I stopped hiding who I was. I kept all of them alive, and when the war ended, I remained in contact with one of them. He was different from the others. He never acknowledged the fact that every time we saw each other, he was another year older, while I forever looked the same. It changed something inside me, and I found myself unconsciously emulating him. He taught me about love and family, and on his deathbed, I promised to watch over his descendants. They assume the money comes from a trust, but I discreetly check up on them in person from time to time.”

“That’s beautiful.” Bel wiped a tear from her eye, ignoring the reality that she, too, would forever grow older while he looked the same.

“Glad you think so. Remember this when I tell you the rest of my story because you won’t think I’m beautiful then.”

“I don’t scare easily.”

“Thank goodness for that.” He leaned sideways to steal a kiss. “Now go grab some plates so we can eat.” He hoisted her off the counter. “It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you, so I want you properly fed because once I take you to my bed, you aren’t allowed to leave it.”

The morning sunlightpeaked through the curtains, and Bel burrowed further below the blankets. The hours their bare bodies had spent beneath the sheets had left her deliciously sore and peaceful until she registered the chill at her back.

“Eamon?” she twisted on the mattress, but his pillow was cold. He’d been absent for a while. “Eamon?” she called, knowing his hearing would catch her voice no matter where he stood in his mansion, but when the home remained silent, Bel knew. He was gone.

Bel jogged down the stairs,Cerberus hard on her heels for his breakfast. Notext message. No note. Just an emptyhouse,and she warned herself not to freak out as she fed her dog. Eamon hadn’t left her in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t do that.He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

Cerberus’ ears twitched, and with a grunt, he abandoned his bowl. But after a few steps, he twisted to gaze longingly at his remaining breakfast and returned to inhale the last bites. He swallowed themwholewith greedy snorts, and when the final piece vanished into his mouth, he bolted for the front door with a bark. His deep voice echoed off the foyer’s high ceiling, a warning to whoever drove up the gravel drive that this house was protected, and Bel peaked out the window to watch an unfamiliar SUV skid to a halt. She couldn’t see the driver through the tinted windows from her angle, and she wondered if she should leash her dog. Strangers always balked at Cerberus’ beefy appearance and cropped ears, but men with guns weren’t afraid ofpitbullswith fangs, and she didn’t want to risk his safety when confronting this stranger. No one in town owned a car that nice, meaning one of Eamon’s contacts had probably decided to bother him only hours after the holiday’s end.Seemednot even his clients knew he’d disappeared.

Bel opened the door, a blast of icy air slapping her in the face, and Cerberus bolted outside before she could catch him. If her first-thing-in-the-morning visitor was a colleague of Eamon’s, her dog wasn’t in danger, and based on the vehicle’s price, the nature of this intrusion was indeed business.

“Oh good, you’re up,” the driver said as he jumped out of the SUV, and Cerberus leaped into his arms as he rounded the car. “I was rushing to get back before you woke.”

“Eamon?” Bel jogged down the front steps, mad at herself for worrying for even a second that he’d abandoned her in the middle of the night. “Back from where?”

“Getting your Christmas gift.” He captured her in a hug, but before he could kiss her, Cerberus’ head popped up between them, slobbering all over their faces as he greeted his two favorite people.

“Christmas gift?” she repeated, pushing the pit’s messy tongue out of her eyes. “But I forgot to get you one. Between the hospital and being at my dad’s, I didn’t have time to shop.”

“You told me you loved me.” Eamon shovedpastthe pup’s exuberance and planted a kiss on her lips, dog slobberand all. “That was a better gift than anything I could buy you.”

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