Page 46 of Felix and the Spy
“What…what are you saying?”
“I want to end this, Felix. I don’t think I can go on seeing you. It was nice while it lasted, but it has to end.”
Amara watched his stupefied countenance, the way the gentle breeze tugged at his silver hair, the way his full lips parted, and the way his whole being focused on her like she was the most important thing in the world. His eyes filled up with tears as he continued watching her, disbelieving.
His voice emerged a pleading grunt. “Amara, don’t do this. You know I love you.”
Her eyes widened with shock. Did he love her? Since when? Amara swallowed, vacillating between tears and anger. She couldn’t let his words affect her. She had too much self-worth to allow Max to treat her so poorly. Being with a man like him would open her up to scrutiny from his family. It was the last thing she needed in her current state. She wanted to end this, wanted to run away from the shackles of expectation that bound her.
“Do you? Or do you just want someone who can pull you out of the coffin you’re living in?” He flinched like she had struck him. Her words had meant to hurt, and they did. “Your son is right. You don’t love me. I am a novelty, a pleasant diversion from your sorrow. Because that’s what you are to me. Do you think either of us is truly capable of love?”
“I do. I might not be perfect, but I know what I feel for you is not a passing fancy. I have found the courage to move on, thanks to you, but that isn’t why I want to be with you. I’ve never met anyone like you. When we’re together, life is a lot brighter, more fulfilling, like this was where I was meant to be all along.”
His words sunk into her tired brain. If she weren’t so shaken, she’d accept his feelings, but she had convinced herself that ending this relationship was the best course of action.
“I don’t feel that way.” She cut in. “To me, you were Mr. Garett, the man who understood my pain. Perhaps that’s all you were meant to be—a distant fantasy on the other side of the page. I’m not ready for the reality of you, Felix. I can’t meet your standards. I don’t like other people going through my past and judging me. I was naive to think this could work. People will gossip about our age difference and all the ways in which you’re too good for me. I’m tired of being scrutinized and found lacking.”
“You’re too good for me too,” he said. “And what people say doesn’t matter. Stop listening to them.”
“I used to think that too, but…look at me.” She scoffed. “I bought flowers even though I’m allergic because I wanted to make a good impression. Because I didn’t want to let you down. Since when did I become the kind of person who cared about other people’s opinions? This relationship is ruining me.”
“You don’t have to do anything to please me. I don’t care what others think of you. If you never want to see Max again, you don’t have to. I know who you really are, and I don’t want you to be anything but yourself.”
“You want me to be myself? This is me, Felix. I’m flawed, broken, and not cut out for relationships. Getting along with people isn’t my cup of tea. This was nice while it lasted, but we both knew it had to end someday.”
She took a step back, inhaling jaggedly. Her heart was in pieces. She wanted to pull him closer and kiss him one last time. But she couldn’t.
“Amara.” His eyes were glassy. When he took a step toward her, she backed off.
“Goodbye, Felix.”
With that, she turned, not daring to look at him. His shadow remained in place as she walked away. Amara put one foot in front of the other, trying to keep her blurry gaze steady. Without looking back, she marched away—away from him, from love, and from the promise of a different future.
Seventeen
Amara
Amara didn’t know what she was doing roaming about in Cadia. The skies were growing dark, the streetlamps lit, and people buzzing about excitedly. Food stalls opened up, a mix of delicious aromas filling the air. It felt like she’d been away forever. Amara had returned to her home city two days ago, after her impulsive break-up with Felix. Cadia was the same as she’d left it—lush, animated, pleasant, and filled with an air of mystique. The women here possessed magic, unlike her who was half-demon. It was also much cooler than Sigilis or Inferno City. As Amara walked through the streets, she replayed her cruel last words to Felix.
Amara, don’t do this. You know I love you.
Do you? Or do you just want someone who can pull you out of the coffin you’re living in?
She knew she’d been unfair to him. But fear had gotten the best of her. The threat of losing her sense of individuality, and becoming what she thought Felix’s family wanted, had driven her to take desperate measures. Now that she thought about it, he had never asked her to get along with his son. He’d never asked anything of her, just given her everything that he could. In return, she’d succumbed to her doubts and ended up hurting him. This was why she couldn’t do relationships—she had no control over her violent feelings.
Amara rounded the corner, passing by the bakery that was almost ready to close. She had avoided visiting it since her mother’s death because it was her mother’s favorite place. Next to it was a flower shop where her mother had worked. It had been the inspiration for Mrs. Dane’s story. Amara remembered her mother’s love for soft bread and sweet custard pies. She’d grown up eating them as a child. She bought them back from work, letting Amara gorge on the sweet treats while dinner was cooking.
Usually, she avoided that place, eyes filling with tears at the sight of it. But that day, she felt nothing as she walked toward the door. A silver bell rang when she stepped in.
“We’re about to close—”
Her eyes fell on a single custard pie sitting on the display. The baker was wrapping it up.
“May I have that custard pie?” she asked.
The baker, a tall, stout man with graying hair, blinked at her. He was human and had grown older since her last visit. “It’s been hours since this one was baked. Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She pulled out a few coins and put them on the counter. Hesitantly, the baker handed it to her.
