Page 45 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. She could hardly tell him she loved him now, could she? And she could hardly complain about the condition she’d agreed to. Nor was she going to beg because it would only compound her pain when he told her to stop. But she had to say something. He was waiting for a response.

“I understand,” she said, even though she didn’t understand at all.

“Great,” he said, and, horribly, she thought he sounded relieved. “So no hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings,’ she said automatically. And it was true. It really was. She couldn’t feel anything at all.

“See you around, Mercy.”

“Goodbye, Seb.”

*

Outside it had begun to snow. Through the bathroom window Mercy could see the flakes drifting down in the night. Inside it was dark, the candles having burned out long ago, and the bathwater was cold. Her hands and feet were shrivelled, the skin of her fingertips like prunes, and she could feel herself shivering but she just couldn’t summon the energy to get out.

Seb had been right about the way he could hurt her, she thought dully, staring at her feet lying just below the surface of the water. She’d dismissed it at the time, because of course he wouldn’t hurt her, she’d thought. Look at how happy he’d made Zelda. He might not want to admit it but he’d changed.

Now though, she knew differently. He could decimate her. With a two minute phone call.

She ached all over. Her head throbbed. Her throat was tight. Her eyes stung. And her heart felt as if it had been slashed to ribbons.

If she’d been in any doubt about the way she felt about Seb it was gone now. Only last night, when Dawn had revealed the truth to her, it had felt like something just out of reach, something she sort of knew but couldn’t really get a hold of. Now she held it and it was cleaving her apart and leaving her to bleed.

Faith.

Faith would still be up.

And suddenly she wanted – no, needed – to hear her voice. A friendly voice. A loyal voice. A voice to replace the one that had just shattered her hopes, her dreams, her heart.

With effort that seemed to require every drop of strength she had, she lifted her hand and with shaking fingers she dialled the number.

“Hello?” said Faith and Mercy could hear the clink of glasses in the background.

“Faith,” she whispered.

The clinking stopped. “Mercy?” said Faith, her voice filled with concern. “Are you all right? What’s the matter?”

“It’s over.”

“What is?”

“Seb and me,” she said, her throat so tight she could barely get the words out.

“Why? What happened?”

“He finished it.” Actually saying it made it somehow feel more real and as her heart seized up Mercy wondered whether she’d ever be warm again.

“Oh, honey.”

“It’s not his fault,” she said, the truth of that making her stumble over the words. “It’s entirely mine. I pushed him. Too far. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Faith gently. “It can’t be.”

But Faith didn’t know about Sunday morning. “I think it is,” said Mercy, her heart breaking all over again. “I tried to fix him. He didn’t want to be fixed.”

“Did you tell him you love him?”

“No. I didn’t get a chance. At least I have that. At least I was sort of dignified. He told me he’d see me around.” Which she didn’t think she could bear.

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