Page 170 of Ink Deep Devotion

“We all crack with age.” Nonnina chuckles.“That’s why I stopped looking in the mirror.”

I laugh. It feels good to make that sound again.

“And he must love you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t have run.”

I freeze and run my tongue over the roof of my mouth, trying to moisten it.“What makes you think I ran?” Avery said Nonnina was not a part of our world.

“Darling,” she bats her lashes,“no one comes to this town unless they are hiding. We’re a shadow overlooked. Only cheap tourists stay here. Everyone goes to the city where they hope to find love. You’re young and beautiful. If he cheated on you or didn’t love you, you would have moved to a city.” She glances down at my hands.“When your shift is done, you always sit here and spin your ring. Your eyes look ahead down the street like you’re waiting for him to walk down it. To come and find you.”

“I don’t want to be found.”

Her gray brow arches. Liar, her silence says.

“I can’t return,” I admit.“He’d never forgive me, and I can’t live that life.”

“Can you endure this one? Wasting your youth on a man as you hide away.”

I thought old people were kind, sweet, and gentle.“I’m trying.”

“It’s never too late to change things.”

“I never had the power to spark change.”

“Then find it. Power doesn’t simply slip into your hands. It’s taken. Grab him by the balls.” She balls her fists in the air, shaking them.

I giggle again.“I have a friend who would have loved you.” Nova.

“Is she American?”

Actually, I don’t know where Nova is from, but she has enough confidence and an abrupt manner to be classified as an American. She’s a mystery who tried to trick a King and failed, but she won in the end.

“Yeah.” I numbly reply.

“One American friend is enough.” She rolls her eyes.

“You sound like my art teacher.”

“I don’t mean offense.”

“She does,” I smirk.

Nonnina taps the table.“Marriage is like a table. Sometimes, it is sturdy; other times, it wobbles. Sometimes, it’s filled to the edges; other times, it’s empty. Marriage is a negotiation; you have to sit down and hash things out continually. If there is still love and respect, then it’s never too late.”

“What if one of those things is missing?”

She stands slowly, grasping the table to balance.“Negotiate.” She points her finger at me, somehow making the gesture look lovely.“Demand it. Women are good at that.” She winks and then walks away.

???

Friends in my world are more like currency. Something to be traded or banked away. Friendship isn’t given freely. It’s far too valuable.

I see a friendship with Nonnina. When she talks to me, it’s welcomed banter, like a best friend trying to correct my mistakes. Nothing about Nonnina screams ill will towards me.

I can’t say that about my art teacher. Something has changed. Camilla has always been abrupt, but I can’t help but feel like her lessons were breadcrumbs that I followed. She wanted me to eat slowly, whereas Nonnina force-fed me out of love.

Camilla sees me as her student, but she wants my friendship. I see it each time I step into the art class now. Her red-lipped smile and pretty assessing eyes, always watching and judging my art, are partly a lie.

They hoodwinked me. Camilla masked her motives with her pushy lessons. She didn’t come off as begging for my friendship. Camilla’s good. She pushed me away.

---