A Matter of Fate
Page 43
“Yes,” he says quickly, and I believe him. “But I didn’t want to worry you . . . so that’s why I didn’t tell you beforehand. I was going to tell you afterwards, later that night, because I really believed she’d leave once I . . . .” He trails off, his hands curling against our chests. “I guess I underestimated her, which . . . which is stupid, because I know how she works, but she . . . .” He gives me a look, a supremely sad one, which makes me realize the level of guilt he has toward this girl. “She started talking about things from our past, and . . . and it’s no excuse, none at all, but . . . it made me remember that, even though I’ve never been in love with her, I do have a lot of feelings that are . . . are . . . .”
“Real,” I offer. “She’s been your friend for a long time.”
He nods, biting his lower lip. “And . . . like I said, it’s no excuse, I just . . . I guess I got carried away with the memories. So, when she asked me to kiss her one last time, I . . . I figured . . . .” He shakes his head. “It didn’t really matter, not when it came to me and you because I knew it would never change how I feel about you. I know that doesn’t make sense . . . .”
“It does,” I say, “in a really odd, sick way.” His eyes widen at my assumed easy acquiescence. But even though I’m fairly calm, I’m not ready to let him off the hook quite so quickly. “But what if I hadn’t been there? How far would things have gone?”
He is genuinely flustered by this question. “I don’t know . . . I’d like to say nowhere, not any further than where we were.”
At least he’s being honest with me. So now it’s my turn. I let him know, both calmly and at times angrily, just how it made me feel, finding him with his ex-girlfriend. He listens to me, genuinely contrite, and when I’m done, and he’s apologized again, forgiveness fills me up.
But this is not the end of our talk, because I have my own confessions I don’t look forward to laying bare for him to see. And he knows there’s something more, because the tension hasn’t left him. I wonder how much Kellan and he have already shared, if they’ve had a talk, too, or if things have remained quiet between them like I’d believed. So I ask the question, and he says, “We didn’t talk for the first twenty-four hours, except by phone and when I came over that night . . . but yeah. We’ve been talking every day since then—at least, when I was awake.”
“Has he told you anything?” I ask, glad that we are now sitting and not lying down anymore. Somehow sitting feels safer, a better position to defend.
“About you?” When I nod, he adds, “No. He said it was your choice whether or not to let me know how things were.” I watch him close his eyes, at how the breath in his chest just barely shudders. “I was so scared, Chloe. I kept hoping that you’d give me a chance to explain, but . . . I hated knowing you were with him. I hated that you went to him. I think it was even worse than when you two were dating. Maybe it’s because our Connection is stronger now . . . .”
I want to remind him that, strong Connection or no, he still managed to kiss his ex-girlfriend, but harping on that particular issue now will get us nowhere. So I tell him, as calmly as I can, which is difficult at best, what happened the night before. “We were drunk,” I conclude. “And that’s not an excuse. But it’s the truth.”
You’d think by his reaction that he hadn’t kissed his ex, because he leaps off the bed, furious. “You did what?!”
“Hey now,” I say, on my feet, too. “Don’t you go getting on your high horse, here, Jonah!”
“You . . . you . . . .” He points at me. “You and my brother found yourselves in a hotel room, together, remembering that just hours before you’d been . . . .” He chokes on the words.
“How dare you,” I hiss. “Hypocrite, much?”
He flinches as if I’d slapped him.
“I was hurt,” I continue hotly, “and I’d been teetering between blacking out and crying so much that people probably thought I ought to be stuck in a padded room, and yeah, I got drunk, and your brother was with me, and we ended up kissing. And you know what? I have no idea if we were waxing nostalgic like you and your girlfriend—”
“Ex,” he snaps.
“Or,” I continue, nearly shouting now, “if it just happened, but it did. And notice that I’m not hiding it from you! I’m telling you about it!”
“Oh, that’s all well and good,” he shouts back, “considering it comes after the fact!”
“Are you forgetting why I ended up here in the first place?” I shriek. “You kissed someone first!”
“Someone,” he seethes, “that I am not in love with. Can you claim the same?”
I am breathing hard now, so furious that the knick-knacks on the dresser are trembling. You need to calm down, the little voice urges. Blowing up this apartment will NOT make things better. I clamp my hands down by my sides. “I forgave you.”
“I did not end up in bed with someone,” Jonah counters, just as angry.
At the little voice’s urging, I count to ten—and then to twenty—before answering. “Callie loves you. And you, yourself, just admitted to having feelings for her. Bed or no, you were kissing her like your life depended on it!”
“I told you the difference! Gods, Chloe! How many times do I have to say it? I am not in love with Callie! But you can’t give me that assurance, can you? Don’t bother lying! I can feel it in you!”
“The difference,” I say, fists clinched, “is that I am here, with you.”
He blinks a few times and then takes a step back. A myriad of rare, visible emotions flash across his face—rage, confusion, shame, and then understanding.
“I am here,” I say again, not so angrily now. “Not with him. Here. With you.”
Jonah falters in his anger. And then forgiveness fills him up, just as it did for me.
Just like his brother predicted.
We spend the next few hours talking about what’s happened between us over the last week. We take turns telling the other exactly what we went through, leaving nothing out. He admits everything to me. I admit everything to him. We leave out no gory details. It is a contest to see who was worse off.
We tie.
We make promises to one another, ones we mean to keep. Apparently, the reason both of us had fallen into such dark places, succumbed to abysses, is because of our Connection. It’s Fate’s twisted way of letting soul mates know how impossible it is to be away from each other. Astrid explained this to Jonah the night before, telling him that all of the aches, the wild mood swings, the difficulty breathing—they’re all signs a body is in withdrawal from their Connection. Which is troubling and difficult to accept, because it appears it’s yet another way Fate controls me. It’s chosen my vocation and my love, and although I would never give Jonah up, it’s disheartening to learn that I’d never really have a choice if I ever wanted to.
“It’s a good thing I love you,” I tell him as we pack his things up. It’s been decided that he will not stay at Astrid’s for the night, even though she’s his surrogate mother. Because Callie will be here, too, and our wounds are too fresh.
He loops an arm around me and pulls me close. I take a moment to breathe his scent in, to relax in his arms and know that I’m home. “You don’t know how thankful I am for that fact,” he says, kissing me. “Because I am hopelessly, endlessly in love with you.”
This is enough. I’m scarred and bruised, but sometimes, when you’re in love, there are risks you have to take. It’s not all sunshine and roses. Gods know how great everything would be, how the worlds would function, if love was that easy. But it’s not. Because there are times when it’s hard, and others when it’s scary. Risk is like that. When you take a gamble, and love is always a gamble, there are two outcomes: fulfillment or heartbreak.
Sometimes all you can do is pray for the best and hope it turns out.
Chapter 56
Life can be funny. Sometimes things go as planned, exactly the way you expect. This is the normal path for a Magical. At birth, a Seer tells you wh
o you are, where you’re going, what you’re going to do. And you live your life accordingly.
Then there are the events and experiences that go so against expectations that they alter your road, deviate you off course and into a different direction. Sometimes it’s a good thing. Sometimes it’s bad. But it’s really all in the perspective you choose to take.
You finally are starting to get it, the little voice calls out. I think you’re ready to learn the truth about who I am.
I pause, the cup of tea I’ve been drinking on Karl’s balcony halfway to my lips. Aren’t I . . . me?
Absolutely. See . . . Huh. This is harder than I thought it would be. Maybe I ought to just use my real voice with you. I think you can handle it now. The little voice deepens, alters from my familiar tones into something else familiar: Hey there, Chloe.
I blink a few times, the cup still halfway up. Caleb?
Yeah, babe. It’s me.
WHAT?!
Calm down, will ya? Let me explain this to you.
The cup shakes in my hand. Is this like what Jonah and Kellan can do? How can you be in my head?
I said, calm down! Let. Me. Explain.
I’ve been to hell and back in the course of a week. Yet this seems like the biggest shock of all. MY FRIEND CALEB IS IN MY HEAD.
First off, set that cup down. We don’t want you breaking anything, right?
I am so blown away. How are you here, Caleb?
Well, for all intents and purposes, I’m your Conscience. With a capital C. It’s a Magical craft. I’m not actually a Watcher, like I’ve told you all these years.
Why is this the first time I’ve ever heard of a Conscience?
Because no one with a Conscience is allowed to tell anyone else that they have one. We are assigned to certain people at the time of our birth, even if that person isn’t born yet. So, it’s like we wait our lives until you come around. That’s why I moved to the Human plane—you knew I wasn’t born there, right?
I guess I’ve never thought about that before. Does everyone have a Conscience?
I have no idea since we’re not allowed to talk about it with others, but I’m thinking no. But what I do know is that we’re able to link minds with our wards.
Okay . . . and the point of all this . . . ?
I’m your sounding board. DUH. What have we always done? I talk to you, you talk to me. We ask each other questions, get you thinking about things. I point out the big stuff you sometimes overlook. Stuff like that. We’ve always been good friends—why do you think that is? You’ve always instinctively known I was your buddy, that I would be your confidant. Even when we go days—weeks—without physically seeing each other, our friendship is always tight.
I can’t believe this. It’s just . . . crazy! Do you know everything in my mind?
Ummm . . . . he murmurs. And then I hear a little sigh. Yeah. I pretty much know everything there is to know about Chloe Lilywhite.
Are you telling me that all these years, you’ve been able to hear what I’m thinking? Every time that little voice perked up in my mind, bossed me around, that was you?
That’s about the gist of it, yes.
So, what—am I able to get ahold of you whenever I want?
Yeah. But Chloe, don’t you go abusing that privilege. Faeries have to sleep, too! Man, all of those years of Jonah dreams. I know it sounds rotten of me to admit, but I was glad when the door was lost. I was tired of not getting a lot of sleep. You two used to be so cheesy to watch. Oh, look, the perfect guy, the perfect girl, can you believe they’re so meant for each other that they meet in their dreams? Please.
Wait. You saw all those?
Sure did.
Did you know he was real?
Yeah, I knew. I also knew you two had to figure it out on your own. Figures that he did first. He always has been a little more aware of things than you.
I take a deep breath and then laugh. Yet another thing Fate has mapped out for me. My conscience isn’t even my own. Granted, it’s one of my best friends, who’s always understood me, but still . . . .
Yeah, I know, he says, sympathetic. But, Chloe— you don’t have to let all of these define you. They’re like . . . jewelry, really. All of these things just add embellishment to who Chloe Lilywhite really is.
I laugh. I don’t wear jewelry much, remember?
Caleb laughs, too. Poor analogy, I guess. But the point is—it’s all up to you over who you’re going to be. Who you are now. No one has say over that, not Fate, not me, not Jonah, not anyone. Just you. By the way, I’ve been so proud of you this last year. You’ve really grown up, taken ownership of your craft and your direction.
Jonah comes out onto the patio, sits down next to me. “Mind if I ask what you’re thinking about?” he asks, pulling a blanket over my lap. “Something has you pretty surprised right now.”
I’m unable to tell him about my most recent revelation concerning Caleb. So instead, I tell him how I’ve been thinking about Karl and Moira’s little girl. Her name is Emily, and it turns out, as a Faith, she’s not being slated for either the Guard or the Council, much to the surprise of everyone involved. At first, I thought both Moira and Karl would be disappointed their little girl wasn’t going to be a warrior like they are, but they surprised me. They’re thrilled, ecstatic even. And as I’ve watched these young parents adore their baby, I can’t help but think this is the right way to think about things.
Take the punches and roll with them. Because honestly, sometimes you don’t have a choice.
When I’d finally come back to Karl’s apartment, I found a note waiting for me:
C -
I’m heading back home – and by home, I mean Maine. There are a lot of things that I need to figure out for myself, by myself, and I won’t be able to do it in California. Know that I don’t regret coming here for one second. I’d do it again, no questions asked. I will always be here for you if you need me—please remember that. But if it’s okay, I’d like to try for that space we talked about before. I know I said I’d like it to start when we moved to Annar, but I’m thinking now is a good time. It’s best for everyone.
You asked if we would be something important to one another. I want that. I expect it. It’s just going to take some time. I can’t give you a timeline, because I’m not there yet.
Take care of yourself -
Kellan
I read it twice before handing it over to Jonah. After reading it, he said, “I’m glad Kel was here for you this week.”
I’d sighed and sat down on the bed. “I owe him a lot of apologies.”
“He won’t want to hear them,” Jonah said, sitting down next to me. “Just give him the space he’s asking for, because that’s what he needs.”
“What will happen between the two of you?” I asked, staring down at the note. It was just a piece of white paper, the message written in plain black ink. It could’ve been anything, really. But it wasn’t—it was something more. It was Kellan finally doing what I hadn’t been able to.
And it made—makes—me so sad.
“Things will be fine between us,” Jonah had said. “He’s my twin and my best friend. We need each other no matter how much we may fight.”
“Are you still mad at him?”
“No. I was—I was really angry, so much so that I even wished our link together would break at one crazy point. But that’s gone now. I rationally know that, despite everything, his heart was in the right place. I can’t be mad at him for that. I love him. He’s my other half.”
When it comes time to go back to California, Jonah and I face a few uphill battles based on some agreements we’d come to. The first is with Karl when I tell him I don’t want him to follow.
“School is out in about a month, and then I’ll be moving here,” I inform him and Moira. “I think . . . a month is a long time to be away from your daughter. What if she smiles and you miss that?”
Emily is in my arms, all sleepy and perfect. They’d surprised me this
morning by asking me if I’d like to be her godmother. Heck yeah, I would. And I’m going to do everything I can to look out for this little girl, including, if need be, going to war with her dad to make sure he’s around for all her firsts.
Because these are new parents, barely adults themselves. And maybe Karl has too many responsibilities on his plate at way too early of an age, but I know he and Moira will be truly involved in Emily’s life, more than my parents have been in mine. Karl’s shown me that over the last year with just how well he’s taken care of me, an ignorant girl who is now much more comfortable with her craft and mindset thanks to his guidance.
He’s going to be the best kind of dad.
And then Jonah and I call Giuliana and dismiss her in a similar way. The Council and the Guard argue vehemently, even haul us in one of their closed-door sessions, but we stand our ground. One month—that’s all we’re asking for. In a little over a month, we’re going to have to give our lives over completely to Annar and its expectations. I want this last month. We both do—our equivalent of a summer, to enjoy the last fleeting moments of freedom, of feeling like the kids we’ve never really gotten to be.
The Elders have been silent since the attack on Annar. I know that doesn’t mean anything. They’ll come for me sooner or later. And I’ll have to be ready for them.
In the end, we manage to convince the Council that we’ve proven, over the course of the year, that we’re capable of taking care of matters ourselves. Reckless as some of our decisions may be, both of us helped ensure the safety of others. And this ends up being enough to grant us thirty days’ reprieve.
I deviate from my expectations, from the requirements and plans that everyone else has for me. I alter my road.
Cora comes alone, as requested, to pick us up at the entrance of the woods. Halfway home, she tries to apologize to me for our fight the day I left.
“I get where you were coming from,” I tell her, and the thing is, I do. It’s all about risks when it comes to love. And Cora loves me. She really does. She’d done what she thought was best. It wasn’t, though, but I won’t hold it against her. Because when push comes to shove, I’ll be there for her, too, trying to do what I think is best.