Page 28 of Twisted Gift

My eyes snap open when I feel someone sit on the other side of the bench. I don’t have to look over to know who’s sitting next to me. I’d sense his presence anywhere. It’s different now that my senses are heightened. I can hear his breathing, his pulse; I canfeelhis energy, and his emotions when he isn’t blocking them. He isn’t now; he’s letting me feel his support, his concern, his admiration. My chest swells with gratitude, but I keep my emotions under lockdown. I’m not ready to share them yet.

Neither of us speaks. The only sound is our breathing and the wind. The silence isn’t forced or awkward. It’s comforting. As much as I still don’t know about everything going on with Tristan, him being here gives me strength. He’s always given me strength.

I peek down at where his hand is pressed flat against the metal bench, and slowly, I slide my hand over and lay it on top of his. We stay like that for several beats before he turns his hand over and slips his fingers through mine.

The entire time we’re there, we sit in silence and hold each other’s hand. During those moments, I allow myself to forget the mess of politics and war I’m forced to face once I return to Rockdale and just breathe.

8

Leaving the cemetery about an hour later, I catch a cab back to the house. Tristan doesn’t try to stop me from leaving, just squeezes my hand as he’s done so many times in the past to make me feel better and lets go when I rise from the bench.

Mom and Dad are just getting home when I arrive, so we opt for ordering dinner from Adam’s favorite pizza place in honor of his birthday. I offer to pick it up to give them a chance to unwind from their day and relax, so Dad gives me the keys to his car, and I head out.

They seem to be doing a little better than the last time I saw them. Of course, they’ll never fully heal from the loss of their son, but with time, they’ve come to find ways to cope with their grief. I’m not sure if they’ve cleaned out Adam’s room yet, and honestly, I’m too scared to look. Will I be upset if the room is empty? Or relieved they aren’t keeping it as some depressing shrine?

With our pizza steaming from the passenger seat, I drive home blasting the radio as if that’ll tune out all of the thoughts racing through my head. Yeah, it doesn’t work. I’m still worried about the fae, my parents,myself.

Sitting around the dining room table, the three of us eat our pizza in silence for a while. My stomach isn’t as queasy as it was before I fed that first time, but I’m starting to feel those sensations coming back; I’ll have to feed again soon.

Not much has changed since the three of us had lunch together before graduation, at least from the outside. I’m still working at the pub—and trying to lead the light fae into a better future—and they’re still teaching. In reality,everythinghas changed. I think Mom knows not to ask about Tristan from the last time she did. She probably assumes I’ll tell her if the situation changes, which I would. She has always liked him, so she’d be happy to know if we ended the break I told her we’d taken.

I ask them about work to try for a normal conversation. They’re both teaching summer semester classes, but it’s slower during these months, so there’s not much to talk about.

After dinner, I help my mom clean up the kitchen.

“How are things with you and Tristan?” she asks while the sink fills with water.

So much for her knowing not to ask me about it.

With a heavy sigh, I say, “I don’t really know.”

“You’re still not seeing him?” She starts rinsing the dishes and handing them to me to put in the dishwasher.

I frown. I’ve seen him more in the last few days than I have in a month. “It’s... We—”

“Honey, I can see that you’re in pain.” Her voice is soft, soothing as she hands me a plate. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I say in an instant, sticking the plate on the bottom rack with the others. “Of course not.” Aside from the way we met, Tristan has done nothing to hurt me. He wouldn’t.

She pins me with a stare. “What’s on your mind, Aurora?”

This could take a while. “You and Dad,” I say in a low voice. “How did you know it was real? That you loved him? That you were right for each other and that it was going to last forever?”

Mom laughs and sets down the dishcloth, wiping her hands on her thighs. “Oh, honey, I didn’t know it would last for our whole lives.”

“And you married him anyway?”

Her eyes soften as if with insight. “Anything as important as love is worth the risk. At least in my mind. You might find this amusing, but when I met your dad, I really didn’t like him.” She flashes a faint smile, rinsing a few more dishes.

My pulse jumps unevenly. “Are you serious?” Evidently, Mom and I are more alike than I knew.

“Yes. But, damn him, he made me fall for him. Hard, too. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was infuriating.”

A smile curls my lips. I’ve never heard this story before. “What made you decide he was worth it? The risk of getting hurt?”

Her eyes rove across my face. “I knew because of the way I felt around him. I felt better, stronger,happier.”

My stomach flutters as I put the last cup on the upper rack. “Thanks, Mom.”

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