Page 61 of Enchanting the Elf
Everett rounds the island between us and places a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“You deserve happiness, Bertie. I literally hear your heart beat faster when she smiles. Your head might tell you one thing, but, just this once, let your heart lead. Allow yourself to feel love.”
Whispering, I confess, “That first moment I saw her on the island, it felt like my breath was snatched right out of my chest. She dazzled me with her beauty, but it’s her soul that has enchanted me.”
“So do something the fuck about it,” Everett says with a friendly slap to my shoulder.
Imploring him to understand, I ask, “How can I? How can I limit her to a life in the forest? Being tied to me means she’s stuck there. I don’t have anything to offer her.”
Everett takes a step back and his brows draw down over his eyes. “You really don’t see what a catch you are, do you?”
I scoff and reach for the zucchini, ready to get back to chopping vegetables. Shaking my head, I put it down again.
“What do you mean? I’m a grumpy elf without a sense of humor whose future has already been determined.”
Everett comes to stand next to me and leans a hip against the island.
“Has it?”
I turn to look at him. “You know it has.”
Tapping his fingers on the tabletop, he scrunches up his face then relaxes it as he shakes his head. “The fates just intervened and gave you a mate. Chosen from among billions of people across the world. One special person. And you’re choosing to turn your back on her for some kind of altruistic reason? Have you ever considered asking Florence what she thinks about being chosen? That bynotchoosing her you’ve essentially takenherchoice away from her too? Think on that.”
Without another word, Everett leaves the kitchen while I’m frozen in place. My whole world just turned upside down.
I thought I had it all figured out.
Maybe I don’t.
Chapter thirty
Adelbert
A day later I’m back in my study at home after our whirlwind trip to Las Vegas, feeling more conflicted than ever.
I plop down onto the carpet with my back against the bookcase. Resting my forearms on my propped-up knees, I hang my head forward between my shoulders, recounting each interaction I’ve had with Florence since I’ve met her.
Watching Florence interact with her sister in Vegas—constantly hugging, touching, holding hands… smiling andlaughing—made me feel even more inadequate for not being able to do any of that for her. She looked positively radiant.
Sadie had packed up all of Florence’s belongings in Kentucky and what she did not return to Germany with, has been put in storage.
Now that she has a suitcase full of her own warmer clothes, she hardly has need for my sweaters. Knowing I won’t be seeing her with the rolled-up sleeves sends a pang of discomfort through me. Soon, she won’t have any need for me at all.
The entire trip, from the moment we boarded Everett’s plane that he sent for us, at the store, their home, and on the way back, Florence did a terrific job at acting as if everything was fine between us. Not that Everett or Sadie bought the ruse, but they didn’t call us out in front of each other. Everett did a good job of that on his own.
I took part in every conversation, keeping my replies polite but curt, as every waking thought centered on Florence.
I let out a deep sigh and look up just as the cat waltzes into the room and sits down directly in front of me, staring at me with the most judgmental eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, cat. I know. Judge all you want. I’m judging myself, too,” I tell the lazy creature who has now basically become a resident in my home.
The cat tilts his head and his tail flicks behind him, his agitation clear.
I let my head thud back against the hard shelves as I replay the scene in the meadow and the pivotal moment when I pushed Florence away.
When that tear raced down her cheek, it stabbed at a part so deep in my chest, I thought it couldn’t be touched.
In front of me, an oddly disturbing growl comes from the cat and I sit up straighter.
