Fake Dating a Witch

Chapter 26

GRANT

I linger in Sirona”s bed, watching her sleep, as long as I possibly can. I don”t want to leave her. Ever.

But it”s after seven, and I”m supposed to be at my mom”s at eight to have breakfast with her, Kelsey, Hank, and Aileen. I still need to bike home, shower, and get to Mom”s. At least the car is packed, except for my bike and my overnight kit.

I dress quietly, Koko watching me with a suspicious look. She glares, licks her paw in a way that”s somehow menacing, then continues to glare. I suppress a shudder. If Sirona were awake, I wonder what the cat would say to her?

Well, I can be magnanimous. I go to the window seat where Koko is curled up, and scratch her head. I”ve never petted her before; her sleek fur is soft and silky.

”Take care of our girl, yeah? She deserves the world.” My chest aches as I say the words. Someday my beautiful Sirona is going to fall in love with a man who can give her the world. And I fucking hate that it can”t be me.

Koko meows at me, a sound that is somehow both agreement and judgment.

And then I”m gone. Down the stairs and out the door into the crisp morning. There”s a misty fog in the air, giving everything a gloomy cast.

Feels about right.

I go home, shower, pack up my last few things, and head for Mom”s. It”s three minutes before eight when I pull into her driveway. Yay me.

Sirona should be here with me. She should always be with me. But we agreed it would be easier this way. No tearful goodbye, no messy scene. She asked me to just leave in the morning before she woke, so I did. I”d do anything she asked at this point.

”Good morning,” Mom calls from the kitchen. I walk in and am greeted by the smell of pancakes and bacon cooking.

My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven”t eaten since last night, and a lot has happened since that meal.

”Morning, Mom.” I kiss her cheek, then draw myself a glass of water.

We make small talk, the others arrive, and we make more small talk. Kelsey takes my hand to inspect it, and it”s weird to be able to feel every touch.

”Wow, she really did an amazing job. Even got rid of all the scars.” She releases my hand. ”You”d never know anything happened to it.”

Hank frowns, looking pensive. ”I wonder what that cost her.”

”I”m sure the supplies weren”t that much,” Kelsey says. ”Besides, it”s not like she can”t afford it.”

Hank shakes his head. ”No, I don”t mean financial cost. But a spell of that magnitude, you can”t just do those. I assume that”s why she didn”t just do this way back when you first went to see her. There”s a spiritual cost. A sacrifice to the deities or the universe of some sort.”

That nagging in the back of my mind is back. ”She said she”s sacrificing something, but she wouldn”t tell me what.” I hate that I don”t know. Granted, just about anything is worth it to me. But she made sure it didn”t involve me.

Hank looks thoughtful but doesn”t say anything.

Over breakfast, they all ask me about what I”ll be doing when I get back to the city.

”Are you excited to get back?”

”Are any of your friends still there?”

”I bet there”s great biking along the lake there.”

That last one is Hank. And he”s not wrong. I love biking along Lake Michigan when I can.

”I am excited to get back,” I say to my mom, though I have to force that excitement into my voice.

I”ll get there. I”m just down this morning because of leaving Sirona. Then I turn to Kelsey. ”Unfortunately, most of my class has moved on to fellowships in other cities. But Leslie”s still there, doing her fellowship. She”s from Chicago, and her dad is sick, so she tries to stay local.”

She points her fork at me. ”I asked about friends. You told me about classmates. Not the same thing.”

Damn perceptive little sister.

”In surgery residency, classmates and friends are the same thing. I don”t have time to get to know anyone else.”

”That”s sad.”

I open my mouth to give some snappy comeback about how my life isn”t sad. But instead of speaking, I shove a bite of pancake in.

Because she”s right. It is sad. Since I left residency and came back to Owl Cove, Leslie is the only person from Chicago who I talk to. Sure, my boss occasionally. But no one else from my class. Because they were my classmates, not my friends.

I need to make more of an effort this year. Become actual friends with some of my colleagues. Maybe try to do something social outside of work for a change.

The idea of dating anyone is repulsive right now, but with time, hopefully I”ll get over Sirona and be able to be with someone new.

Just the thought makes my whole body ache. My mind rejects the idea of ever getting over her. But I will. Eventually.

I”ll have to.

”I just wish you were closer,” Mom says. ”You need to do your fellowship in Madison. Be closer next year.”

I don”t think I could be that close to Sirona and not want to be with her. And surely by then, she”ll have moved on.

But I do love this. I miss my family, I miss spending time like this, I miss... Owl Cove. All of it. Still, surgery is the life I chose, and it”s the life I have. Maybe someday I”ll figure out a way to have a career and my family. But not today.

When breakfast is over, I help Mom with the dishes while Hank plays with Aileen and Kelsey packs up the leftovers. Then the kitchen is all tidied up and it”s after nine and I want to get on the road. It”s not a long drive, but if I have to leave, I want to just get it over with. No sense prolonging all these goodbyes.

We make our way outside, and Hank steps toward me first. He shakes my hand, then pulls me in for a gruff, back-slapping hug. He”s a really good guy, and I wish I had the opportunity to know him better. But most importantly, he makes my sister happy. I”m not the ”make my sister cry and I”ll kill you” sort, but I definitely wouldn”t be a fan of his if he hurt Kelsey.

Kelsey hands Aileen to Hank, then comes to hug me. She wraps her arms tightly around my chest, and for a moment I can”t breathe. We aren”t particularly close, and that”s my fault. I hate it. I want to be someone who”s close to his sister.

”I”m going to do better about keeping in touch. Text more, call more.” I squeeze her back just as tightly.

She pulls back with a sad smile. Patting my chest, she says, ”Sure you will.”

I want to protest, but she”s probably right. ”I”ll at least try.”

I give Aileen a kiss on the top of the head. ”I”ll miss you too, big girl.”

”Big girl,” she repeats.

I”m missing her growing up. I have a sudden deep urge to see my niece grow up into a kindergartener, a grade schooler. To watch her go through her obnoxious middle school girl phase, where she makes Hank and Kelsey as miserable as Kelsey made us when she was in seventh grade.

Fuck, I feel like I”m going to cry. I need to get this over with and get out of here. I”m a little rough when I pull my mom into a hug. She”s not a small woman, probably five-foot-seven. But it feels like I engulf her.

”I miss you, Grant. I wish you would visit more. It”s been such a blessing having you here for this long.”

”I know, Mom. It has been for me too.” And I actually mean it. As much as I hated having an injured hand and not doing my job, hated feeling useless, I realize how great it was to get that forced break. To come home and be with the people I love most.

”I”m going to start calling you more,” she says. ”And if you”re busy, you better return every one of my calls.”

I kiss her cheek. ”Every single one,” I promise. I”ll probably miss a few, but I”ll try. I have to make more of an effort with my family. With my friends. It took coming home, it took falling in love with a woman I can”t have, to make me realize how lonely I”ve let my life become.

So now I”m leaving all the people who really matter.

I give Mom one last squeeze, then release her. Step back toward my SUV.

There are no more goodbyes to say. No more hugs to exchange. It”s just time to go.

”I love you all,” I say, voice cracking.

I should”ve told Sirona I love her. Maybe she”d have said it back, and at least I”d have that in the lonely days ahead.

But it would probably just hurt more to leave her if I knew she loves me too. I”m better off not knowing. And so is she.

I get in the car, fiddle with the satellite radio until it”s playing loud, angry music with lots of guitar. Exactly what I need right now.

Everyone waves, and I wave back, honking the horn as I pull out of the driveway. I drive slowly through town, quiet on a Sunday morning. Honey”s cafe is busy, as is Chessie”s diner, but all the other storefronts are closed.

My mind goes back to that early date with Sirona, when we fed each other cheese and sipped wine at Chessie”s. I think I might”ve already loved her a little bit way back then.

Right as I leave the town proper, the song changes. Celestial Alchemy comes on, another loud, angry song about the aftermath of a breakup.

Exactly what I can”t handle right now. I can”t listen to Sirona”s cousins, and I definitely can”t listen to them singing about losing the one they love. I punch at the buttons to change the station.

It goes to classic rock and Bon Jovi croons from the speakers. Much better.

I”m coming up on the turnoff to the Goode family land. My foot itches to move to the brake to slow down and take the left turn toward her house. Just one more glimpse of her, one more kiss. One more?—

I grip the steering wheel hard to keep myself from making the turn. If I go to Sirona”s, I might somehow talk myself into staying. I might never go back to my real life.

No matter how much it sucks, no matter how much it hurts, this is what I have to do.

SIRONA

I wake up and he”s gone. I knew he would be, but it”s still a shock to the system after so many days of waking up beside him. Of rolling over and cuddling up against his warmth.

Today, and every day for the rest of my life—well, her life—all I have is Koko, who has curled up behind my knees. Her chin rests on my calf.

I contort myself so I can reach her to scratch her head. She pushes into me, begging for more.

You shouldn”t have let him leave.

I sigh. ”It wasn”t my place to stop him.” If there had been any way for us to make it work, I”d have jumped on it. Already my whole body aches from missing him. How am I supposed to forget this man who I love so deeply?

You could”ve gone to Chicago with him. You don”t even like your job.

”I might not like my job, but I love everything else about my life.” Too bad work is such a big part of it.

You mean you like taking care of everyone?

I sigh, because Koko and I have had this conversation many times before. She thinks I spend too much time taking care of my sisters, even of my mom sometimes, or my cousins, and Nana, and not enough time putting myself first.

”Yes, OK? I do like taking care of people I love.” I stop petting her and roll over to stare out the window. Except the shades are closed, so I can”t do that. And the sadness feels too heavy to get up and open them.

So I stay in bed. Moping. I deserve at least one day to wallow in my grief. Tomorrow I”ll go to work—ugh—and go through the motions of my life before Grant. And eventually it”ll feel normal again.

I doze off for a bit, wake up and think about how much I miss him. Replay every touch, every kiss. Every time he looked so tenderly into my eyes.

Does he love me too? Is his heart breaking as he drives across Wisconsin and Illinois, back to Chicago? Or is this easier for him? While I hate the idea of him hurting, even more I hate the idea of it being easy for him to drive away.

It”s probably better I don”t know.

Around noon, my stomach insists I get out of bed and feed it. Koko follows me to the kitchen, where I start coffee brewing, put out food for her, then survey my pantry. Nothing looks appetizing. It”s all colorless and dull and makes my stomach turn.

I go to the refrigerator and pull out a block of extra sharp cheddar from a farm in the next town. Best cheese I”ve ever had. Though the cheese Chessie conjures for her restaurant is a close second.

I slice up the cheese, pull out some water crackers since they”re pretty flavorless anyway, and munch on that, standing at the counter while the coffee drips into the pot. Even the cheese isn”t as potent on my tongue as it usually is.

Dammit, I can”t let this breakup ruin cheese.

Koko rubs against my legs. You could share.

I break off a small piece and drop it on the floor for her. She gobbles it up.

The coffee is done, and I realize I”ve made enough for both me and Grant. I used to only make half a pot, since it was just me, but now I”m in the habit of a full pot.

Whatever, I”ll probably need the extra caffeine to keep going today. We were up until after two, making love. Between the late night and the heavy blanket of sadness weighing me down, I have no energy. Plus the spell drained me.

I take the coffee to my front porch and sit on my favorite chair. The sun is high in the sky, but the porch is shaded, thankfully. Koko runs off to chase bugs or chipmunks or whatever she does outside. And I sit and think more about Grant. Because dammit, I”m taking a day to wallow.

It”s entirely unfair of the deities to bring him into my life, only to make it impossible for us to be together. I”m sure there”s a lesson they want me to learn. But haven”t I overcome enough grief in my life?

OK, it”s been a pretty low-grief life. But essentially growing up without my dad, since I was three when he died, is pretty hard. Even if my mom did have every advantage as a single mom.

I guess the deities want me to know what romantic heartbreak is like. Since I”ve never been in love before, no breakup has hurt this much. It”s never felt like a huge hole has been carved out of my chest with a dull spoon.

Or maybe they just wanted the curse broken, no matter how it happened.

From my pajama shorts pocket, my phone buzzes with a text message. I pull it out. It”s from Nana, to me, Morgan, and Bronwen.

Nana: We need to talk about the curse. Please come to the house at 4 instead of 5. Thank you.

I give the message a thumbs up so she knows I saw it. Within a minute, Morgan does the same.

Bronwen: No problem!

My phone says it”s almost one. So I have another two and a half hours to wallow, then I need to attempt to pull myself together to face my family. They, of course, know Grant left. And they obviously know I”m in love with him deeply enough to break the curse.

How na?ve I was to think fake dating Grant could work. Both that it would be sufficient to break the curse and that I could keep my emotions out of it.

I laugh out loud, breaking the silence in my yard. From ten feet away, Koko pauses eating grass and turns to look at me.

”Just laughing at some of the ridiculous ideas I”ve had in the past,” I tell her.

Maybe I should go for a walk in the woods. Clear my head with nature. Or I could garden. I”ve been so busy between work and cramming in every second I could with Grant. My yard is only in decent shape thanks to magic.

Usually I love sitting in the grass, digging in the dirt, pulling out weeds and making my flowers and herbs beautiful. But today the idea makes me feel flat.

Everything makes me feel flat. If it doesn”t make me want to cry. That hole in my chest aches, my stomach is still knotted and twisting, even though I fed it. I”ve got a mild headache resting behind my eyes.

Maybe I should just go back to bed until three-thirty.

Don”t you dare.

It”s on the tip of my tongue to tell my cat to fuck off, but I stop myself. She means well.

I pick up my phone to text Bronwen.

Me: Got anything on hand for heartbreak?

Bronwen: I”ve got a potion that”ll work temporarily. A few hours.

Me: Bring it to Mom”s.

Bronwen gives my message a thumbs up.

Me: several doses

Maybe I should work a half day tomorrow, make an appointment with my sister so she can do a more potent spell with me. Plus, that gets me out of a half day of work.

Except I don”t really want this to go away. Do I? Wouldn”t it have to mask or diminish how I feel about Grant?

A tear wells up in my eye. I don”t want to stop loving him. My breath comes too fast and my pulse races.

No, I can”t do that. The idea of not loving him is too much. I press my hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart and erratic breathing. There”s no need to panic. I don”t have to have Bronwen do a spell.

I just have to suffer through this, however long it takes for me to heal.

And right about then, he”ll probably have a break to come home and visit his family.

I close my eyes and picture standing in line at Honey”s. The door opens and in he walks. In my imagination, it”s winter, so he”s in a heavy coat, with a scarf around his neck and a beanie on his head. I turn and see him, and my breath stops. Our eyes connect. And hold. And hold. And in that moment, all the healing I”ve done, it disappears in an instant. I”m still as in love with him as I”ve ever been.

The vision is so real, so visceral and potent, I know it”s a vision of a possible future for me. And I hate it.

I scrub my hand over my face, trying to rub the scene from my mind.

Tears are streaming down my face now. I”m sobbing. My nose is stuffy and running and I desperately need a tissue. Leaving my coffee mug on the side table, I head inside to find a box. I take it with me back to the front porch.

For the next several minutes, maybe even hours, I sob. I curl into myself in the chair and cry my heart and soul out. Every aching cell of my body screams in sorrow. My spirit aches, my body aches, by the time I”m done, my eyes ache.

I”m a sloppy mess of tears and snot. My shirt is disgusting, having been used as a tissue as well.

A glance at my phone tells me it”s time to get ready. Thank deities for glamour magic.

I take a quick shower but skip washing my hair and dress in my favorite purple and yellow sundress. I stand in front of the mirror, looking at my blotchy, swollen cheeks and red, bloodshot eyes.

I close my eyes, picture my face as it usually looks, add a dusting of sparkle to my cheeks because I need it, and a soft lipstick. I snap my fingers, my face tingles, and when I open my eyes, I look like I didn”t spend an hour sobbing. The shimmer is a nice touch and I almost smile.

My body is too tired to walk all the way to Mom”s, so I take my bike. Koko rides with me, sitting in the basket on the handlebars.

As I bike, my mind goes back to the conversation Grant and I had after the reunion. For one moment, I let myself imagine what it could be like if we did open a clinic together. I picture us converting his cabin into a small practice where we see local residents for less serious stuff. I know it will never happen. He”d have to do a whole new residency, and it”s not like there are medical schools to do that at in Owl Cove.

But for just this bike ride, I let myself dream.

Nana, Morgan, and Bronwen are all on the porch when I arrive. Nana”s face is displeased about something; her pinched expression is prominent enough I can see it from the yard as I park my bike next to Morgan”s.

I sit down on the wicker couch next to Bronwen. Nana and Morgan are in the two perpendicular chairs. ”What”s up?” I ask.

Nana sighs deeply and pats her thighs nervously. ”Unfortunately, I have some hard news for you girls.”

My chest nearly caves in. I can”t take hard news today.

Morgan sits up straight in her chair, eyes wide and frantic. ”Did something happen to Mom? Is?—”

Nana holds up a hand to cut her off. ”No. This is about your curse.”

Bronwen frowns. ”I thought that was all over now.” She turns to me. ”How are you, by the way?”

”Terrible, thanks for asking.” If nothing else, I don”t have to pretend with my family.

Bronwen slides her arm around me and squeezes me in a side hug. ”I”m so sorry.”

”So what about the curse?” Morgan snaps.

Nana gives her a reprimanding look, the kind only a grandmother can pull off. Morgan smiles sheepishly.

”Sorry.”

”This doesn”t affect you, Sirona. But it does you two.” She gestures to Morgan and Bronwen. ”Unfortunately, there were layers to this curse that I”m only just now able to see.”

”Damn deities,” Morgan mumbles.

I have to agree, it”s pretty frustrating that the deities didn”t show us all there was to the curse.

”So, what else is there?” I ask. I almost feel guilty that I”ve gotten off easy.

Then I remember Grant and want to cry again. Maybe not so easy.

Nana looks at Morgan as she speaks. ”There are lessons each of you has to learn as you fall in love.”

”That”s not fair,” Bronwen protests. ”Sirona didn”t have to learn a lesson.”

”Yes, she did. She had to learn to stand up for herself and take care of herself first.” Nana reaches over and pats my hand. ”You”re almost there. I guess they decided you were close enough.”

Did I learn that lesson? Even dating Grant didn”t start out as something I did for myself. That was for my sisters, and for Evan.

Is this the deities’ way of saying I need to pursue leaving Goode, Inc? Really consider going out on my own?

A chill runs down my spine. But it”s an excited chill. More like a thrill.

Things to think about when I”m alone. I can”t focus with them talking.

”And things have to move in order.” Nana looks at Bronwen. ”I”m sorry, Bronwen, but you”re still waiting.”

”I have to wait for Morgan to fall in love?” Bronwen practically wails. ”I”ll be waiting forever! What kind of love witch can”t fall in love herself?” She crosses her arms and slumps back on the couch.

”I... but I don”t want to fall in love,” Morgan says.

”Neither did I,” I say. ”Sometimes it just happens.”

Morgan looks at Nana. ”Do I have to learn some lesson too?”

Nana nods. ”You need to learn to have more faith in yourself. Really, truly believe in yourself and love yourself.”

Ouch. The deities aren”t playing.

”Harsh,” Bronwen says.

Morgan doesn”t say anything, just glowers.

”We can talk it over more when you”ve had time to absorb it,” Nana says.

We sit in silence for long enough that it starts to feel awkward.

Finally Nana breaks it by saying, ”Well, I”m going to go?—”

”Wait.” Morgan holds up her hand.

We all watch as she pulls a leather-bound journal from her messenger bag.

”I want to ask you a few things about this, Nana.” She sets it on the coffee table between us.

”What. Is. That?” Nana”s voice is colder than I”ve ever heard it.

”OK, I know I shouldn”t be snooping in Mom”s old Grimore, but it fell open when I was cleaning and it was talking about our dad, so I couldn”t?—”

”Put that back where you found it. That is none of your business.” Nana gets to her feet as quickly as her old joints will allow.

”I just have a few ques?—”

”I said leave it alone.” Nana storms into the house and slams the door before any of us can say anything more.

The three of us stare at each other. Nana never loses her temper. I wasn”t even sure she had one until this moment.

”What just happened?” Bronwen finally asks.

Morgan eyes the journal. ”I”m not exactly sure. But I think Nana just told us, without telling us, that I”m onto something.”

”Something like what?” I ask carefully.

Morgan puts the journal back in her bag.

”I think there”s more to our dad”s death than anyone is telling us.”