Page 53 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“Don’t ask.”
“Alright…” Jasper smiled timidly. “How is the messenger? Are you feeling better now? You look much better.”
“I am. Thank you for the flowers. They were really pretty.”
“I thought they suited you. Perfectly.” For just a moment, he looked at her from underneath his dark lashes, those slate (faerie prince) eyes, but then looked away and breathed a heavy sigh, shaking his head. His face was suddenly heavy with anxiety and sadness.
Violet folded her arms. Enough was enough. “Jasper, are you intentionally playing games with me?”
“Of course not.”
“So, what are you doing, exactly?”
His gaze flickered to hers before shifting away again. “Honestly, Violet… I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“In that case, I propose you let me in. Then maybe we can figure this out, together?”
He paused, only for a moment, before standing straight. He slowly pulled the door open and stood to the side to let her in.
25
Now
Violet sat still on the sofa, listening to the crackling fire to her immediate right and Jasper clanging dishes far off in the kitchen. She was inside again. Somehow.
When Jasper rounded the corner with the small tray of tea things, Violet watched him. He stopped in front of her on the opposite side of the coffee table. As he set the tray down, she said, “The scratches are almost gone.”
He blinked up at her, briefly, in a passing moment. “Yeah…” He poured her tea, then set the cup just before her on the table and smiled coyly. “I need to hear the story of how Freddie apologized and told you he’s in therapy. Good for him.”
“It is an interesting story, but… I think it would be best if you were honest with me about yourself, first.”
His smile dropped as he stood straight. “Is there any way we could just carry on like before? Without me talking about this?”
“I don’t think so,” Violet said. “If you want me here, it would be nice if I knew the truth.”
“What if I want you here, but the truth might drive you away and that possibility scares me? Or what if deep down, I know youshouldn’tbe here, but I’m too selfish and stupid to hold myself to it.”
Violet tilted her head, staring up at him. “You’re not selfish or stupid, so don’t say those things about yourself. And is that what you’re doing, Jas? Pushing me away any time I get a little closer to the truth?”
He rubbed his palms against his face, his voice muffled. “Idon’t knowwhat I’m doing.”
“Okay, so let’s figure it out.”
Jasper walked toward the draped window by his desk, pulling the thick, dusty curtain aside. Silver light peeked in through the slit, revealing a frenzy of fine snowflakes dancing on the other side of the glass.
Violet waited. Watching his slender back as he stared out the window until his mellow voice broke the silence.
“I’m not sick. I’m cursed.”
He turned slightly, glancing at Violet from over his shoulder, the cool light making his profile glow. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” Violet said. “Do you mean… in a metaphorical or poetic sense?”
“No. In a very real sense. In a physical, ‘every day my life is a living hell,’ sense.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Exactly. How could you? How could anyone?” Jasper took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his messy curls. “It’s illogical and preposterous—but real.Painfullyreal.”
