Page 48 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

“Yes, I saw—”

“An impossible possibility.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can, and I do. That future can never become reality.”

“You don’t know that. You always say things can change from the slightest ripple. We both know the Doppler caused more than ripples when he hurled stones into the lake of potential futures.”

“Fun metaphor, but unlikely it would put that reality back on track.”

“How can you possibly know?” I asked, edge in my voice, barely able to keep from snapping.

“Because I have to be dead in that future. Gone. Poof.” Milo chuckled, keeping the silence of that horrifying realization from fully sinking in. “And I don’t plan on being dead anytime soon. I’ve seen my final curtain call, and it’s fucking fabulous. I’m sure as shit not cashing that ending in for some knockoff warped reality.”

“You’ve seen your death?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. It hadn’t dawned on me, but of course someone with Milo’s magic had seen his own death. He’d seen mine before, the possibility, and prevented it. He saw death every day, so naturally, his would be there too, haunting him.

“I’ve seen like a thousand ish potential deaths for the amazingly awesome Enchanter fucking Evergreen,” Milo said with majestic confidence like he stood on a stage, not as a guild witch but as the captivating magicians of old. Top hat. Twirling cane. Silly cape. And a smile that pulled the audience into a trance. I didn’t need to be connected to Milo to feel that. His voice, his tone, his every breath painted that perception.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Sometimes, they’re funny. Just last week, I saw myself getting taken out from a ham sandwich.” Milo burst into laughter, the type of laughter that drew tears to the edge of his eyes as he stifled the joy. He had a joke in his head that he wished to share, to add, but the mere idea of it made him giggle.

I huffed. This joke was probably not even remotely funny. Folks had a way of building up humor in their own head, it hit the right notes at the right time and then they’d burst at the seams in a laughter fest over something ridiculously dull.

“Could you imagine the irony of me being taken out by swallowing a piece of meat? After all those years of mastering my gag reflex?” Milo had an annoyingly charming hint of humor in his voice, playful and hopeful and wishing to steer me out of the storm of paranoia. “I refuse to go out on a joke of a death. Unless it has a hell of a better punchline.”

I sat quietly, letting Milo’s laughter wash over me, wash away the horror of that vision. I reminded myself Milo was always ready, always here to prevent the worst possible future, refusing to settle for anything other than the best outcomes. Thatnightmarish future was simply an impossible lie. An illusion cast by a universe who underestimated The Inevitable Future.

“I wish I were there,” Milo said. “But I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not. And it’s all right to say you’re not.” Milo got really quiet, like he’d held onto those words from a lifetime ago. “I don’t want you sitting there suffering through the rubble of outdated visions when I could do something about it. I should be—”

“Exactly where you are,” I interrupted. “You’re making the brightest possible future, right?”

Milo didn’t respond.

“You’re keeping that carnage from my dream an unattainable reality. You’re making sure no one suffers at the hand of a scary witch with a serious boner of hate for technology.”

Milo burst into laughter. “Boner of hate? What the hell even is that?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, twisting a bit in bed to let Charlie get cozier. “It sounded like some dumb shit you’d say.”

“Dick.” Milo giggled, incapable of holding in the laughter my absurd comment caused.

It brought pure joy to my thoughts, settling my nerves, easing the tension in my skull, and quieting the visions that’d sprung loose. I wouldn’t be able to neatly stack them in the corner of my mind, out of the way of my daily routine like Milo had done for me, but I could bear this fatigue until Milo’s return. Knowing his absence was only temporary alleviated the panic, the misery, the world that constantly gnawed at my sanity.

“I should be back in Chicago soon,” Milo said. “And then done with the case shortly after that…um, er… I mean, I should be done with the case soon and then back in Chicago after that.”

Milo chuckled, carefree with a hint of force to it. I could always tell when he faked it.

“I think maybe you’ve been up too late,” I said. “You sound too tired for conversation.”

“I think maybe you’re right.” Milo took a deep breath and paused. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. I’ll do anything I can to—”

“You’ve helped a lot more than you realize.”

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