Page 32 of Torn

Anger’s forearms hang over the planks of his thighs. “Is that a threat?”

“I’ve always wanted to experience a moment of tension with a handsome god, a pivotal interlude in which I rebuff him. But it can be an actual threat, if you think it’ll increase the suspense. How very stimulating that would be.”

“Go ahead and tease like a goddess.”

“Go ahead and take it like a god.”

Anger mutters an oath. “What am I doing? I’m no good at this.”

“You know what I think?” Merry asks. “You’re not here to reclaim your original strength, you’re here to find a better strength, the strength you’re destined for.” She feels her cheeks detonate. “Maybe to find someone who will love you back.”

He sketches her face. “You’re a cursed optimist, Merry.”

But she detects a thread of fondness in his voice, which inflates her brain with helium, making her woozy. “How I love hearing you say my name.”

Anger flinches. “You fancy me that much?”

It sounds like he’s searching for a guarantee. “I fancy you more thanmuch.”

“Merry…I still want her.”

Dangling one hundred feet in the air, which is one hundred feet closer to the stars, it’s all Merry can do not to lose her luster. His rejection plays a line of keys across her chest, a mournful organ resounding in the halls of her body. Later, she’ll find an appropriate record to wallow in, the right track to express what this experience does to her.

What in the universe has she been thinking? She can’t expect to win him if he’s claimed by another. Moreover, she’s a flop. She’s the derelict, cast off love goddess that never was. How can she compete with a real one?

Why would anyone love the unloveable?

“Oh,” she stammers, digging up another grin from the rubble that is her soul. “Oh, of course. Of course, you do.” She stands, raising a digit. “I’m just…I’m going to go contemplate precisely how to bear this hardship. I’ll be right back.”

Anger’s voice softens. “We’re dangling in a cable car.”

She sits back down. “I can wait.”

“Are you…how do you feel?” he hazards.

Merry consults the inner workings of her heart. “This is a scar that will last for eternity.” Then she straightens, because she must. “I’m awash in melancholy, but I shall endure.”

His brows furrow like he’d been anticipating the latter: her demise. He must have assumed her spirit would shatter, so his frown has to be the product of concern.

Naturally, there are numerous fractures. That aside, Merry may be a thwarted heroine, but she’s a dignified heroine. This setback is a challenge, because love requires challenges, doesn’t it?

Quick to despair, quick to hope. Right?

The sun has begun to rise, flinging hibiscus and cornflower tints across the city. The cable car rides along the wire, descending and tucking them into the trees, coming down to earth.

She says, “Don’t worry, Anger. You didn’t break me.”

9

Anger

Why the Fates is he relieved?

The goal had been to break her, which he hadn’t done.

His fingers still suffer the rush of her holding them, as well as the rush to pull away. Comparable to the sensation of being torn, it had stripped him in half, into two opposing reactions. Fuck, he’d almost capsized the cable car.

His tendency to move angrily hadn’t been scandalous. As for the source of his rampage, he has no excuse.

---