Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“Of course.” His fingers lace with mine, steadying me, grounding me. He looks at his father, jaw tight. “We’ll talk later.”
We find Kara in the entry as if she sensed my tension and need to escape. “Meet you at your place?” she asks, eyes flicking from my face to Everett’s and back again.
“Yeah,” Everett says, guiding me to the car.
On the drive, he vents about audacity, about manipulation, about heirloom rings and being railroaded and how he’s done being his father’s puppet. I nod and make the right noises. Thank the gods he’s too angry and distracted to notice how quiet I am.
I don’t tell him the part he doesn’t know: that his father threatened to poison my whole world if I don’t disappear. That the choice I can live with might be the one that breaks me.
Back at Everett’s, the house feels too quiet, like it’s holding its breath as my heart cracks.
“Can I go home with you tonight, Kara?” I blurt when she arrives, the need for space rising like panic.
Kara’s gaze narrows, then softens. “Any time, Ariel. You know that.”
Everett goes still. “I’m sorry, Ariel. I know you’re upset about what my father said.”
My blood turns to ice. He heard?
“But tonight was all optics,” he continues quickly, voice tight. “My father directing the show. Nothing but a performance with heirloom props.”
I nod, releasing a shaky breath, barely able to absorb his words. My heart is too busy breaking.
His throat works as if he’s trying to swallow everything he wants to say. “You can stay here.”
“I just… need quiet,” I whisper. “Tonight was… a lot.”
When I look at him, the war is right there in his eyes—want tangled with worry, need tangled with the urge to give me space. He looks like he’s holding himself together by sheer force of will. Every line of him says stay, but his hands remain fisted at his sides.
He nods abruptly. “Right. Space. Of course.” His gaze dips to my mouth, then jerks away. He turns to Kara. “Text me when you get there.”
She gives him a small smile. “I will.”
For one breath too long, neither of us moves. I want nothing more than to step into his arms, let his warmth drown out the cold that’s been crawling up my spine since his father threatened the world I was banished from. But if I do, I’ll never leave.
So I rise on unsteady toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth, a whisper of what I wish I could give him.
I step back before my resolve breaks and turn to Kara. “I’m ready.”
At her apartment, the air smells like beeswax and safety.
“Your room’s ready,” she says gently. She captures my hand as I turn away. “Tomorrow, we’re telling our families that we’re not getting married. Period. Don’t be upset with Everett. He really cares about you. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“I know.” I twist my fingers, human nerves making human knots. “It’s not that. I just… don’t have a home here. Not really. I don’t have the papers everyone keeps asking me for. I need to figure things out. Be… legitimate.” I make a helpless little gesture. “An upstanding citizen.”
“None of that matters to him,” she says firmly. “Or to me. You’re a good person, Ariel. You two have a connection that makes even me believe in soulmates, and I’m a hardened cynic with a rechargeable BOB.”
I frown. “BOB?”
Kara waves a hand. “Conversation for another time.”
Tears sting my eyes as I pull her into a hug. “Thank you. I’ve never had a sister, but if I did, I would choose you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
Kara blinks back tears. “Sleep,” she says, smoothing my hair like I’m made of something precious. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I lie, because the plan blooming in my chest isn’t sleep. It’s escape.
In the spare room, I set the alarm the way she taught me the first night—tiny buttons, tiny beeps, tiny future—and sit on the bed until the outlines of my choices sharpen like barbed wire.
Maybe I’ll go back to the water’s edge and wait. Maybe I’ll find a mermaid daring the boundary and beg her to take a message to my father: I’m sorry. Please can I come home? Maybe he’ll listen. Maybe he’ll send for me, and the magic will forgive me.
And if not? Do I try to swim down anyway, lungs burning, legs useless, hope heavier than stone? Or do I vanish into the forest and become a rumor with red hair?
Without Everett, the human world feels like a map with all the names scraped off. With him, it feels like a future. But if staying with him means our lake dies, my people sicken, and the old songs are sung for the last time, then loving him is the most selfish thing I could do.