Chapter 31
Levi
Everything feels broken.
My heart, my trust…every careful plan. If I stop moving, even for a second, I’ll shatter. So, I cling desperately to the only thing I have left: fixing it.
The funding is gone. The city, hell, maybe even the Fates themselves, have yanked the rug out from under me. A cruel part of me wonders if that means it was never meant for me. If all along, the universe had other plans.
But I refuse, flat-out refuse. I won’t let them decide my story or let this be the end of everything I’ve fought for.
So, we improvise.
Plan of attack: audit budgets, replacement grants, sponsorships, petition the council, bring the press if we have to.
We don’t wait for permission; we build momentum.
We go over every single detail of the project, every budget line, every potential grant opportunity.
Dominic calls in favors. Elijah works his connections.
We brainstorm, strategize, and we fight for a new solution.
And Naomi?
She’s the lifeline, holding everything together when I can’t.
“We’ll figure it out,” she says, simply, leaving no room for doubt.
It should be illegal, really, the way she moves through the shop with ruthless competence that makes me wonder how I ever functioned without her.
“There’s a call with the city planner at ten,” she says, flipping through a notebook with precise speed, “then we’re meeting with the community center leadership at noon, and we need to finalize the updated volunteer list by the end of the day.
” She pauses, looking up at me expectantly.
“Did you email the sponsorship leads Dominic compiled?”
I blink at her helplessly, gripping my coffee mug so tightly it might shatter in my hands.
“You explicitly promised me you’d stay focused today,” she says, raising an eyebrow as she nudges my phone toward me. “So, this is me politely holding you accountable.”
“I know, I know. Yes, I handled the sponsorship leads last night, so you take the planner,” I say. “I’ll draft the volunteer blast and call the two reporters Dominic pulled.”
The shop is alive with motion. Customers filtering in, Dominic and Elijah finding ways to be helpful, the entire space feeling warm and safe.
And then, because the universe hates me—
Elijah glances around, frowning. “Speaking of people who’ve been annoyingly absent, where exactly is Hayden?”
The question slices clean. Not today.
Dominic eyes me over the register. “Yeah, he hasn’t been here all week, now that I think of it.”
I inhale sharply. “Irrigation system!” I blurt, my voice pitched too high. “Absolute priority today.”
Elijah squints. “So, we’re definitely ignoring the massive, brooding elephant not currently in the room?”
“Mm-hm,” I say swiftly.
Dominic and Elijah exchange a look, but they don’t push it.
They know me. They know my deflections, my distractions, my ability to bury every single emotion beneath a to-do list so long it stretches into oblivion.
So they let it go. And I love them for it.
I throw myself headfirst into the shop. Into the remnants of this damn garden project. Into every possible task to keep my hands moving and my mind distracted, because I don’t have the luxury of falling apart right now.
Because it wasn’t just a breakup. It was a breakup with a man who used to be a god, whose brothers casually commanded the sea and sky, whose life is tangled in the literal threads of fate.
There is no guidebook for this. No How to Handle Your Boyfriend’s Immortality and the Inevitable Heartbreak That Comes With It self-help section.
Just me, standing in the rubble of something I thought was real, suddenly unsure if I ever truly had a chance in a fight so far beyond my understanding.
At first, Hayden tries. Texts, a call, small reminders he is still there.
But eventually, even those fade.
Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe that’s what I need right now as Naomi and I move forward, shifting plans, pivoting strategies. Doing what must be done in order to get this project back on track. We hold meetings, we bring in more volunteers, we get creative with funding.
And every single day, I smile brightly, pretend effortlessly, and act like my heart isn’t splintering a little more with every forced laugh.
Only when I’m alone…when the greenhouse’s earthy scent brings memories too close, or when I’m curled beneath a blanket that wraps me like his shadows…do I let myself feel it.
That’s when it hurts.
I miss the solid weight of his body pressed against mine, the low rasp of his voice whispering my name in the dark. The possessive way his shadows traced my skin, committing every inch to memory.
And fuck, it’s so much worse because it’s devastatingly clear now how hard I fell for him.
I love Hayden. I don’t think I knew that fully until now, until it’s too late and he’s not here and all I have is the absence of him. But loving him hurts less than pretending I didn’t.
Hayden is complicated. His brothers, the Fates, the past he was allegedly trying to reclaim.
I didn’t ask for any of it, and I sure as hell didn’t sign up for it.
But I did sign up for him, and now I don’t even know if I exist in that part of his life at all.
If I ever really did. And the fact that he was looking for a way back this whole time, to a life that didn’t have me in it, tells me I was never really an option.
Maybe I was only a tether to a life he never truly wanted.
A placeholder he kept close until he found his way back to something else.
I should hate him. For the secrets, for making me collateral in his cosmic tug-of-war. I should resent every promise and touch.
But I don’t.
Because I know exactly how it felt to be his. How his shadows claimed me effortlessly, like I’d always belonged to them.
And god help me, I would still choose him. Even now.
· · ·
Dominic and Elijah never let me wallow alone. Not for long, anyway. They’ve given me space, held back their opinions and their endless questions, but I know them. Too well. They’ve been counting down the minutes until they could step in.
And tonight, with the rain tapping gently against my windows and loneliness pressing in on every side, my door swings open without warning.
There they stand, rain soaked and grinning, proudly brandishing two bottles of gin, the expensive stuff, and a carton of my favorite ice cream.
As if heartbreak could be fixed with sugar and alcohol.
With friends like these? Maybe it can.
“Elijah says breakups are a marathon, not a sprint,” Dominic announces, breezing into the loft.
“Don’t forget the part about gin getting you to the finish line faster,” Elijah calls, dripping rainwater onto my floor.
I sigh, not getting up from my claimed spot on the couch. “You know, when I gave you guys that key, I was picturing fires or floods, not emotional interventions.”
Dominic shrugs, kicking off his shoes. “Heartbreak counts as an emergency, honey. Read the fine print.”
I roll my eyes, resisting a smile because, annoying or not, he’s spot-on.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sprawled on my couch, movie humming, gin in our glasses, eating ice cream straight from the carton.
“Alright,” Elijah announces, pointing his spoon at me.
“Band-Aid ripping time. How the hell did we go from you two acting like lovesick morons in a Nancy Meyers fever dream to this?” He gestures vaguely.
“Radio silence. You, Levi Wilder, living in the doom and gloom. Avoidance of his name as if it’s a cursed object. ”
“Seriously,” Dominic chimes in, eyes narrowing, “did I miss some dramatic tear-filled confrontation? Want me to slap him?” he offers, then softens. “Or just sit here and let you talk?”
I sigh, rolling my glass between my hands. “It’s…complicated.”
He snorts, leaning back against the armrest. “It’s always complicated. Try us.”
I hesitate because I can’t tell them everything. How could I possibly explain the Fates or Hayden’s former…job…or how my entire relationship has suffered from a very aggressive godly whiplash?
So, I strip it down to the safest version, the one that hurts least to tell.
“I thought we wanted the same thing,” I say, finally, shrugging like that makes the stretched reality feel less like a lie. “Turns out I was the only one who did.”
Elijah hums, tapping his spoon against his knee. “And are you including the garden project in that…explanation?”
I glance at him. “What?”
“The funding.” He shrugs. “The project. The fact that it all blew up in your face, and then suddenly, Hayden isn’t around anymore. He’s involved in that, isn’t he?” Elijah sips slowly, watching me. “That’s what’s really hurting you, isn’t it?”
I shift, unsettled. “I mean…yeah. That’s part of it.”
Dominic traces his finger around the rim of his glass. “But that’s not all of it, right?”
My stomach twists.
It’s true that this isn’t just about the garden. While I was fighting for my dream, Hayden was chasing his, one I didn’t even know existed or if I was even a part of.
I force my voice to stay even. “I thought we were building something together. Turns out, we had completely different…projects. I think I was just a detour.”
Elijah raises a brow. “Okay, but was he working against you? Actively not supporting you?”
The question hits me sideways. “No.”
Dominic leans in, setting his drink on the coffee table. “Well, that’s what it sounds like. Like he had some secret master plan and you just ended up caught in the cross fire.”
I shake my head immediately. “No,” I say again, more certain this time. “He’s the one who kept me standing when I would’ve run myself straight into the ground. He…” I stop, my throat tightening. “He was there when grief nearly swallowed me whole. He held me up when I couldn’t do it myself.”
Elijah puts an arm around my shoulders. “Then let’s cut straight to it…What are we really mad about, babe? Are you mad that he didn’t tell you everything? That it came between you?”
My breath catches.