Page 65 of Heartsong
She chewed on the lunch Frey had packed her (steamed carrots, leftover pot roast, and fried potatoes—how dare he), while her brain chewed on what to say. Was there really anything else other than—
Anna really didn’t want to.
Anna really doubted it.
Angrily chewing a carrot, Anna typed:
Anna’s lips pursed, and she refused to acknowledge how her eyes stung. It wasn’t really fair to be mad that her mom didn’t try and then be mad when she did—but Anna had had this conversation one too many times. She didn’t have the energy or patience to meet her mom’s new flavor of the month, nor go through an awkward afternoon discovering how this one in particular sucked.
She didn’t want to feel the dread of hating the new boyfriend, she didn’t want to lie to her mom’s face about how great he was, and she didn’t want to have this sucking guilt over not meeting him.
At least she’s not asking for money for the deposit.
Anna shoved her phone in her pocket and cleaned up the remains of her lunch. An old sore spot in her chest ached the rest of the day, and between that and being yelled at by a woman angry that one of the bathroom stalls was out of toilet paper, her day was unsalvageable.
Well, almost unsalvageable.
“What troubles you, my Anna?” asked Frey softly as they cuddled that night. His fingers sifted through her hair, claws rasping delicately on her scalp. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”
“Nothing,” she sighed, ducking her head to rest on his shoulder.
“Do you have a headache?”
“No, just tired. I promise.”
He grumbled his unhappy rumble, and Anna patted his thigh.
“I’m happy to be home.”
That turned the rumble around, and he curled one of those strangely beautiful wings around her. Anna had been amazed to realize the inside was lined in short, dense fur that was incredibly sensitive. Draped over her shoulders, it was like being covered in a blanket.
A warm kiss pressed against her forehead, and Anna sighed happily.
Not depending on it,she told herself.Just enjoying it while it lasts.
The next week, Anna sat in the lobby of her neurologist’s office, legs crossed and foot bouncing. She never liked medical offices, even though she was a frequent flier to them over the past few years. Hers was the last appointment of the day, which meant even though she was fifteen minutes early, the doctor was running over half an hour late.
By the time she was called back, got her weight, temperature, and blood pressure taken by the nurse, went over medical and treatment history with the neurologist, and made an MRI appointment, fifty minutes had passed. She was disheartened to be told her insurance may not cover the more expensive injection treatments, but the neurologist ordered them anyway to see what they could get. Anna chewed her cheek and told herself to be grateful that in the meantime, at least she had a new pill to try.
Even though it was full dark, she was exhausted, and over an hour late getting home, she made herself go to the pharmacy.
Sure, she was a little bummed that the neurologist couldn’t wave a magick medical wand and make the headaches go away, or that the injections might not be possible, but she was still a bit heartened by the new medication.
Her little bubble of relief and accomplishment popped when she turned onto her street. A van she’d noticed two blocks back turned onto her street, too.
A cold, nauseating wash of panic drenched her, and Anna picked up her pace. Her thighs burned by the time she hurried into her apartment building. Hidden behind the mailboxes, she peeked out the front door and watched the van park down the street.
It was a bit late for commuters to be getting home but not terribly late.
Tell that to Frey.
Anna was still thinking about the van when she finally entered her apartment, and it took a moment to realize that there weren’t kisses and soft touches waiting for her.
“Anna!”
A big gray mass came barreling toward her from the living room, and in the next second, she was swept into giant arms, crushed against a wide chest.
She might’ve enjoyed it any other night, but her panic was too fresh, too sharp. She squirmed away from him, heart racing and breaths coming fast. Clawing at her coat and scarf, she tried getting out of her confining layers but kept getting blocked by Frey’s desperate hands.
