Chapter 16
Lochlan
The town center looked like it had tumbled straight out of a postcard.
Strands of fairy lights crisscrossed the streets, while lamp posts were wrapped in wheat stalks and autumn garlands.
Booths selling handmade crafts and steaming drinks dotted the sidewalks, and a Ferris wheel creaked merrily in the background.
Pumpkins and gourds filled every available nook, and the air was thick with the scents of caramel and apple cider.
Even the park had been transformed into a golden maze of corn stalks, where breathless couples emerged, cheeks flushed and grins triumphant.
Lochlan smiled, thinking of the wonderful turn their terrible evening had taken. They’d survived the dreadful double date, his best friend was here cracking jokes with Ivy—who no longer looked pale and miserable—and Nia was tucked under his arm.
This moment felt like a spell strong enough to overpower the unraveling of their marriage.
“Where to first? Food?” Becket asked, already scanning the booths like a man on a mission. “Oh, wait, you just came from dinner.”
“I don’t think any of us actually ate,” Lochlan said dryly, earning a soft snort from Ivy.
“How about rides?” she suggested, bouncing on her toes, clearly eager to leave the double date disaster far behind.
“The Chaos Cyclone?” Becket offered with a mischievous glint in his eye.
Lochlan groaned, his stomach lurching at the very thought. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I hate rides that spin.”
Ignoring his protest, the group headed toward the twirling monstrosity.
The ride towered above them, all screeching bolts and whining metal, the structure swaying precariously with every gust of wind.
Just watching it was enough to make Lochlan queasy.
The line wasn’t long—not nearly long enough for him to summon the nerve to get in one of those rickety, swaying carts.
Lochlan scanned the ride’s dizzying motion, searching in vain for an escape route.
He swallowed hard.
“You know what?” Nia suddenly said, rubbing her chest. “The wine I had isn’t sitting right. Maybe I shouldn’t risk it. Loch, can you sit this one out with me?”
Lochlan blinked at her, relief sweeping through him like a tidal wave. “Of—of course. No problem at all.”
“We’ll see you when we get off!” Ivy brimmed with excitement as she tugged Becket toward the waiting cart.
Becket glanced over his shoulder, his grin turning wicked. “You’re missing out, Lochlan,” he teased, but his expression softened when his gaze flicked to Ivy.
As Ivy and Becket climbed into the swaying cart, Lochlan exhaled and turned to Nia. She was already smirking.
“Thank you,” he said as they walked toward the exit, stopping near the metal gate.
“I should be thanking you,” she replied, bumping her shoulder playfully into his arm.
“For what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “I’m pretty sure you’re the reason Becket just happened to show up at the restaurant. You kept me from stabbing anyone with a fork, paid for dinner, and—oh, let’s not forget—got rid of Daniel.”
Lochlan’s mouth opened to respond, but no words came. His face grew uncomfortably warm as he managed a small, bashful smile.
Nia bumped him again, her laughter as light as the breeze that ruffled her hair. Together, they watched the Chaos Cyclone spin wildly, its colorful blur whipping against the night sky. The sight should have made his stomach churn, but it didn’t. Instead, he felt weightless—like he might float away.
After a few minutes, Ivy and Becket made their way over, Ivy’s hair tousled and both of their faces lit with wide smiles.
Becket leaned in to say something to Ivy, making her laugh, bright and unrestrained.
But it wasn’t Ivy’s reaction that caught Lochlan’s attention—it was the way Becket looked at her.
His friend was looking at Ivy the same way he probably looked at Nia.
The thought unsettled Lochlan. Becket had always been like a wildflower—impossible to pin down, thriving only where the soil was loose and the roots could run shallow.
He wasn’t the kind of person to take root and grow alongside someone else.
And yet, he watched Ivy like she was sunlight—something vital he was leaning toward without realizing it.
“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Nia. “Where to next?”
“I’m starved,” Nia declared dramatically, clutching her stomach.
Ivy tilted her head, eyebrows knitting together. “I thought your stomach was bothering you?”
Lochlan watched as Nia feigned a pout, her expression so exaggerated it wasn’t even close to convincing. Ivy laughed, nudging her with an elbow. “If you were scared, you could’ve just said so.”
Nia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If I don’t get an apple cider donut in my hand soon, something bad might happen.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” Lochlan’s gaze scanned the booths. “The donut cart’s five stalls away.”
When he looked back, Nia was watching him, her expression unreadable. Not quite surprise—something closer to wonder.
Their eyes met. He held her stare, waiting, until she glanced away biting her lip.
Ivy grabbed Becket’s sleeve and tugged him away. “Come on, let’s give them a moment before they combust.”
“Can you not do that?” Nia huffed.
Lochlan raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
She gestured vaguely at him. “Make it hard for me to stick to my plan. It’s like you’re doing it on purpose, but I know you aren’t.”
“I’m not,” he admitted, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That makes it even worse.” Nia sighed and pulled her hair up, fingers combing through it in frustration.
Lochlan reached into his pocket and handed her a hair tie.
She closed her eyes for a beat, as if gathering patience—or courage—but her lips twitched as she took it from him, quickly securing her hair into a pony.
“You need to stop this,” she muttered.
“When you tell me what I’m doing, we can talk about that.” Lochlan caught her hand and tugged her toward the donut cart. “For now, I think you’re hungry. And if I don’t get you a donut soon, bad things will happen. Remember?”
With food and drinks in hand—Nia’s beloved donut included—they wandered between the small artisan booths. Handmade pottery, cozy autumn crafts, and scented candles tempted passersby, the crisp air filled with the scent of spice and smoke.
Their group stopped outside a fortune-teller’s booth, its rich purple-and-gold banner catching Ivy’s eye.
“Oh my goddess,” Ivy breathed. “I haven’t had my cards read in forever!”
“Any time you want, pixie, I’ll read your cards,” Becket said with a wink, but as his eyes traced the intricate artwork on the banner he froze.
Lochlan watched recognition flicker across his friend’s face and his own stomach sank.
He knew that design. The careful swirls of ink, the vivid lines—he’d seen those exact doodles in old notebooks, scrawled in the margins of one of Zora’s journals.
Becket had four sisters, but only Zora shared his gift.
Their father, a seer himself, had disappeared long ago, leaving behind a void that had shaped Becket and his sister in ways they rarely spoke about.
Though their mother had remarried and brought two more daughters into their family, the shadow of their father’s absence lingered.
Ivy tried to tug the group toward the booth, her excitement contagious. Nia followed with a small laugh, but Becket didn’t move.
“You two go on,” Lochlan said, keeping his tone light as he stepped closer to Becket. “We’ll wait here.” He gestured casually toward the booth. “I don’t cheat on my own seer.”
Ivy giggled, easily distracted by the thought of a reading. Nia, however, glanced back at Lochlan, her brow furrowed. He gave her a small nod, hoping she wouldn’t question it. After a brief hesitation, she let Ivy pull her toward the purple-and-gold drapes.
As soon as they disappeared behind the curtain, Lochlan turned to Becket. “How long has it been?”
Becket’s easy grin slipped and he ran a hand through his hair. “Fourteen months, maybe. Not that anyone’s counting.”
Lochlan crossed his arms. “What happened this time?”
“The usual.” Becket let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it.
“We had words. I told her she was reckless, that she needed to stop running off to every small-town carnival or pop-up fair like it was her life’s calling.
She told me I needed to stop projecting my shit onto her and figure out my own mess. ” He shrugged. “She’s not wrong.”
“You think that’s why she hasn’t called?” Lochlan asked, his tone carefully neutral.
Becket shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nah, that’s on me. I let her leave and didn’t say a damn thing after. Figured she’d be better off without my overprotective crap. Zora’s got enough to deal with without me breathing down her neck.”
Lochlan studied his friend. “She’s your sister. You think she’s not waiting for you to fix this?”
Becket’s crooked grin didn’t reach his eyes.
“What’s there to fix? I’m a hypocrite, Lochlan.
I’ve got my own commitment issues, but hers are too much for me to handle?
It’s stupid, I know.” He let out a long breath.
“Anyway, I’ve got no business telling her what to do, playing big brother when it suits me, and ignoring my own advice. She deserves better.”
“You’re still her brother.” Lochlan shook his head. “Say something tonight. You might not get another chance.”
Becket grumbled something noncommittal under his breath.
“And it could be worse,” Lochlan pointed out. “You could have a sister who enjoys setting things on fire.”
Becket shot him a look. “Way to be depressing.”
“Just offering perspective,” Lochlan said, his gaze wandering past Becket, toward the swirling crowds beyond the festival, as his thoughts drifted.
He and Becket had always understood each other in ways that didn’t need words.
The pain of missing parents. The burden of being left behind.
But where Becket still had a sister to fight for, Lochlan had spent years pretending he didn’t care that his own siblings never fought for him. And he’d been good at it.
He still was.
Lochlan opened his mouth to say something else, but before the words could form, Ivy emerged from the booth. She avoided their eyes, her brightness dimmed and her brows knit as she stared at the ground.
Lochlan stepped forward, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“What? Oh. Nothing.” Ivy blinked and forced a laugh, waving off his question. “Everything’s fine. She’s just doing Nia’s reading now.”
Becket’s expression shifted, his earlier emotions slipping away in an instant. He stepped closer to Ivy with a smile that managed to be both reassuring and mischievous. “How about I go win you the biggest stuffed bear in the area?”
Ivy’s face lit up, regaining some of its usual warmth. “You’re on,” she said, already pulling him toward the game booths.
Lochlan watched them go, worry lingering as he glanced back at Zora’s seer booth. Nia was still inside.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.