Page 15 of The Heartbreak Hex

“Haveyou?” she asks curiously. “I’ve never really seen you date anyone.”

Because I was pining after you,I respond silently. The only time that I ever got drunk over a girl was over Gertrude. After she graduated high school, two years behind me, I was going to finally ask her out. I had been struggling for weeks to get the courage to do so, only to hear through the grapevine that she was with Harry. Let’s just say I got sloshed that night. Aloud, I say, “Being mayor means it’s hard to date. I’ve had a few hook-ups though and when they end, someone always gets hurt, no matter how casual it was. Relationships are messy and yours lasted for five years. You were bound to take it hard.”

“I just wish that I had been the one doing the dumping,” she sighs. “Looking back, it feels like I was taken advantage of and I couldn’t even see it untilhedumpedme. I guess I didn’t have anything left that he wanted.”

“Hey,” I say again, sternly, “none of that. Harry Moonkin has always been a jerk and an idiot and you are well-rid of him. Your years with him weren’t a waste because you were sincere in your feelings. It’s not your fault that he couldn’t appreciate what he had.”

What I wish I had.

Gretchen smiles at me, but it’s a little sad. “I’ll have to work on believing that. Right now it's just all overwhelming and our situation doesn’t help.”

I feel a little guilty that I’ve been enjoying our time together while Gertrude is obviously struggling a bit, but I can't be sorry that all this has happened. It’s been like a dream to be around her all day.

“Things will look better in the morning,” I tell her. “You’ve had a long day and need some sleep.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” she asks, “So that I can change into PJs?”

“Right through there,” I point to a door on the far wall. “I’ll just wait for you on the other side of the door, then.”

Gertrude plucks out a hair and concentrates like she did this morning, repeating the summoning spell that she did to get my suit, but this time a folded pile of clothes appears in her hands that I can only assume are her pajamas. She walks to the bathroom and I follow, pulled along by the string before she gently closes the door in my face.

On the other side of the door I hear rustling and feel the tugging on the string as she moves around. Vampire hearing is acute, and I can hear when she unzips her wool skirt. Feeling a little like a creep, I start humming to drown out the sounds of her changing and instead think about tonight. Sharing a bed. It’s hard not to be excited about being in one bed together with the witch that I’ve been in love with for years. I’ll be good and stay on my side. She hasn’t invited anything more, after all. But just having her in my space calms my soul in a way that I’ve never felt before. I hear her coming back toward the door and stand up straight so that I don’t fall when she opens it, like she did this morning. The door clicks open and I can’t help but smile at what I see. Gertrude is in the most adorable ensemble of an oversized statement tee that dwarfs her and reads, “Resting Witch Face,” and a pair of silk boxers. It’s just soherand so artlessly charming. She’s not trying to attract me, that much is clear by the practical sleepwear, but I’m drawn to her nonetheless.

“Your turn,” she says, returning my smile.

My turn? Right, I need to change into PJs. The only thing is, I only own pajama bottoms. I never sleep with a top, but that feels inappropriate when we’re going to be sharing a bed just to sleep and nothing else. But the rest of my shirts are all button-downs. I don't own any casual clothes, having really no need for them as mayor.

“Um,” I say. “I usually don't sleep with a shirt, like you saw this morning, but I can try to find something . . .”

“Oh, no,” she interjects. “Don't worry about me. Just sleep however you feel the most comfortable. I don't mind.”

It’s not an enthusiastic agreement that hints at attraction or a seductive invitation to take this interlude further, but I wasn’t really expecting one, so I’m not disappointed. Alright, my dick is a little disappointed, but it doesn’t have a brain and isn’t the boss of me.

Moving to my walk-in closet, I’m glad that I’m kind of a neat freak so when Gertrude sees inside the closet interior it isn’t a huge, slovenly mess. After seeing her house and pantry, I can tell that she’s more on the neat side, like me. I know some bachelors don’t clean up after themselves, but I’ve never been one for leaving a mess behind me. I have a cleaner that comes in once a week, but he just vacuums, mops, and takes out the trash. Occasionally he’ll dust. There aren’t huge piles of things for him to put away and everything is always organized.

Heading to the chest of drawers in the back corner where I keep my pajama pants, I pull out some comfortable linen pants.

“I’ll just change in the closet,” I say, turning back to Gertrude.

“Oh, sure,” she responds. “Good plan. I’ll just wait out here” The witch takes a step back and closes the closet door. Stepping closer to the door to give the red string some moreslack, I start disrobing. When I have my pajama pants on, I lightly knock on the door.

“I’m coming out,” I warn, not wanting her to fall again, even though catching her and getting to hold her in my arms was immensely satisfying. But I’d never risk her getting hurt just so that I could play the hero. That would be the mark of an asshole.

Opening the door more slowly than the last time, I find Gertrude waiting for me. Seeing her night attire again, I smile.

“Shall we go to bed?” I invite and longing fills me. I wish this was all real, that we weretogether, that this wasourbed and not just mine and that we belonged to each other. This whole situation feels like the universe sending me a sign to make a move, but shejustgot out of a long-term relationship. I don’t want to move too quickly and scare her off and miss my one chance to be with her. I need to be patient and watch her for clues and hints so that I don’t miss my moment.

We climb into bed together, and Gertrude puts her pillow as far from mine as it can go. If that’s not a sign for me to cool my jets I don’t know what is. When we’re both situated, I snap my fingers again and the candles all blow out with awhoosh. In the darkness a new energy appears, a charged sort of silence. I resolve to ignore it, though, and just let Gertrude sleep, even though I'm sure that I won’t sleep a wink. But a few minutes go by and I don’t hear the deep breathing of slumber coming from her side.

“Vlad?” she asks, breaking into the silence.

“Hmm?” I respond.

“Thank you,” she says, taking me aback. “You’ve been so kind and understanding about all this. I wish that I hadn’t been so drunk and reckless, but I’m glad that it’s you who I’m tied to.”

Me too,I admit silently. Aloud I say, “You’re very welcome Gertrude. And, truly, don't be so hard on yourself. Heartbreak does crazy things to people.”

She laughs lightly. I wish that I could bottle that joyful sound. “You can say that again,” she says, a teasing note in her voice.

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