Chapter XXXIV
Roman
I watched as Demi smiled at the shootout reenactment in the town square.
Actors burst into the street—outlaws swaggering with pistols drawn, lawmen barking challenges, saloon girls twirling their skirts as the crowd roared with delight.
The crack of blanks echoed off the wooden storefronts, smoke filtering into the July air, while tourists jostled for the perfect photo.
She was close enough to touch, her laughter carrying over the chaos, but the distance between us felt impossible to bridge. The staged gunfire was all for show, yet the ache in my chest was real.
I hated it—the silence between us, the restraint I forced on myself—but that was the way it had to be. And although it gutted me to stand apart, at least I could console myself that I wasn’t being a cad. That I wouldn’t be the reason she didn’t find her true love.
While Demi watched the scene, I scanned the crowd for any men I thought might be worthy of her. I wasn’t going to go around and just touch anyone to get a read on them.
Each man who came into view made my stomach twist into knots; I was revolted at the thought of anyone touching her but me.
Even my god side seemed not to want to participate and was deafeningly silent.
This wasn’t the least bit helpful. Not only were we on a time crunch tonight, but in a few weeks’ time, the August full moon would appear.
The thought of forgetting Demi hollowed me out. The void inside me yawned wider, like a black hole—endless, merciless, swallowing everything I was.
I turned, hoping Demi was having better luck than me, but she was gone.
Panic surged through me as I scanned the crowd. Tourists pressed shoulder to shoulder, cameras flashing, voices rising in laughter. I couldn’t even call out her name—one slip, and someone might pierce her glamour. We should have thought of code names.
Except, she hadn’t said a word on the drive into town, just kept looking my way and shaking her head in frustration. Did she think I wasn’t honored she was falling for me? I was more than honored. She could read me—she knew I wanted to know her in every way. But I was trying to do the noble thing.
I shoved through the crowd, heart pounding, until I spotted her. Demi sat beside a teenage girl who looked like she didn’t belong—eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, watching the happiness around her as if it were a world she couldn’t enter.
Demi didn’t speak, but she studied the girl with quiet intensity. Her brow furrowed, her lip caught between her teeth, her beautiful eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She seemed to be feeling every emotion the girl carried.
Then Demi’s fingers brushed the girl’s arm, light as a feather.
“Oh, sorry,” she murmured.
The girl’s eyes shifted, brightening as if a veil had lifted. Her entire demeanor changed—shoulders straightening, mouth curving into a smile.
“It’s all right,” she said before darting off to join a group of girls who welcomed her with open arms.
I continued to watch Demi as she found her next subject. A middle-aged man, nice looking, wedding ring glinting under the streetlights, ran a hand through his graying curtain hair, agitation etched into every line of his face.
Same as before, Demi’s expressions shifted with his emotions—his frustration mirrored in her furrowed brow, his ache reflected in her glistening eyes. But then she smiled, soft and luminous, as if she already knew the ending to his story.
She brushed past him, casual as a breeze.
“Pardon me,” she said.
The man froze, his anger dissolving like vapor.
“No worries. It was my fault. Yes . . . it was my fault,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, before striding toward a beautiful woman standing beneath the great arch of antlers, phone in hand, shoulders shaking.
“Honey,” he called.
She looked up, eyes wide, and ran to him.
He caught her in his arms, voice breaking. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” She buried her head against his chest, and the crowd around them seemed to fade into silence.
I watched as Demi repeated this strange behavior again and again—small touches, quiet words, each one fixing something broken in the people she chose.
It dawned on me then: She possessed the ability to do more than administer a love pulse. She could mend all kinds of broken hearts.
How was this possible? Her father was right—she was special. And here he and Zeus were gambling with her life, sending her on this quest. Why risk losing such gifts?
Finally, I had to interrupt her. While I enjoyed watching her work her magic, she would no longer have that magic if we didn’t find her true love.
Before she could find her next subject, I stepped in front of her.
“What are you doing?” My tone sounded more accusatory than I’d intended, but time was of the essence here.
“What I should have been doing ever since I found out who I really was.” She brushed past me.
I grabbed her hand and reveled in it and regretted it all at the same time. Our connection was undeniable. And I realized the reason she filled part of the void in me was because she could heal hearts, not just help them find love. Yet, her magic wasn’t enough for me to fully heal. Why was that?
“Demi,” I whispered, low enough for only her. “I don’t know how you’re doing this, and while I respect your helping people, there are bigger priorities. I hate to say it, but it feels like you’re not trying hard enough to finish this quest.”
She ripped her hand free.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m trying harder than you’ll ever understand. But I’m coming to terms with the fact that it’s probably not going to be enough. So, I’m going to help as many people as I can before I can’t anymore. But have fun touching every man here.”
The way she said it made me sound like a creep. And what did she mean by saying she’d tried harder than I’d ever know?
“Tell me what you’ve been doing and I’ll help. Did you make contact with the man you once loved?”
She laughed, sardonically. “You could say that. And it’s hopeless.”
“So he’s not the one. Then we keep looking.”
“No. I’m done.”
“The hell you are. You have to fight. Maybe it’s Jonas,” I said, grasping at straws. “He won’t let me touch him—something about Cupids trying to take over the world. But I’ll get a read on him.”
“Good luck with that. Honestly, just drop it. Okay? Move on with your life. Enjoy the amazing ratings and all the new seasons Love Unscripted will get. And I’ll be sure to act like I couldn’t care less about you during our remaining interviews, so that should help.”
“That’s all you think I care about? Ratings?”
“No. But, just take the wins,” she said, flustered. “And just go do what you want.” She waved her hand around erratically. “I’m going to help people tonight. I’ll see you later.”
She turned to go, but I was tired of her dismissing me. More than anything, I was tired of fighting my feelings for her. I caught her hand and yanked her back, pulling her flush against me until we were face-to-face, lips a breath apart.
Her eyes widened, fire and defiance sparking in them, but she didn’t pull away.
“I won’t let you give up.” My voice was low and rough. “Even though it’s killing me not to have you for myself. I swore to you that I would help you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to see that through, even if it means never tasting or touching you again.”
She blinked, saying nothing. The silence between us was louder than the crowd around us. My pulse hammered, my grip tight on her hand, every instinct screaming to close the distance.
“Roman,” she whispered, inching ever closer, tempting me.
“Please don’t,” I begged her, wanting her more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life. “Let me be an honorable man.”
A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. As if I’d broken her heart. But it was impossible. Her heart was locked. Protected from hurt. Right?
“You are a good man.”
She stepped back, and I let her go. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. The void was back, deeper and more acute than ever.
“Now let me be a good woman. I’ll meet you at the car in an hour.”
I nodded, because if I said anything else, I’d be begging her to let me have all of her—just once. And I refused to be that man. I knew she couldn’t give me everything, not without her heart.
I watched her walk away, hoping I’d feel some comfort in knowing I’d done the right thing. That I was a good man.
But the truth was, I felt like a fool and a failure. I’d just let go of one of the best things that had ever come into my life.