Chapter Thirty
Eddie
My whole world fucking implodes in one fucking second, all because I was too proud and stupid to tell her the truth when it mattered the most.
“You’re stupid, Eddie. Fucking goddamn stupid.”
“It’s gonna be alright, Eddie,” my dad encourages, his voice low and steady like he’s trying to soothe a wounded animal. But nothing is going to make this right. Nothing.
“She’s gone, Dad.” There’s no masking the utter devastation in my voice. Between the periodic shudders of me desperately trying to catch my breath, and the guilt eating me alive, even a blind man could see my pain.
Rich’s on my other side, his hand thudding against my back like it might shake the grief loose. Mom keeps coming over, wrapping me in these long, lingering hugs like maybe she can keep me from falling apart completely.
My hands clutch tighter around a scrap of her wedding dress, the fabric warm in my hand from how long I’d been gripping it. It’s all I have left of her.
It’s been two fucking hours.
She won’t answer my calls.
She won’t even look at my texts.
It’s as if she’s disappeared like a ghost…
The silence is unbearable. Every sound in the room is like a knife in my back. The clock ticks down every minute since I lost her. My mother silently sobs in the corner, mourning my relationship as much as I am, hating how her son is unraveling like a loose piece of rope she can’t knot and tether.
My dad’s quiet breathing fills the empty space as he does his best not to say something that will make me snap.
And then there’s Rich, always so quiet and methodical.
The bastard keeps shifting in his chair, shooting me pathetic looks of sympathy that slice me in two.
None of them knows what to say, and every sound feels deafening, like at any moment the bomb will go off and all of this will end.
“She’s not coming back, is she?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Mom flinches like I just slapped her. “Don’t talk like that, honey. You don’t know.”
I nod, but it’s a lie. I do know.
“Your cards predicted it…”
“The cards can sometimes be wrong—”
Cutting her off, my tone intensifies. “But they weren’t, were they, Mom? They said this would happen. They said my relationship was going to collapse, and it did. Just like you predicted. Everything you said came true.”
A single tear slips from my eye, and I angrily wipe it away, wishing people weren’t here to witness my downfall.
“I’m just saying, they also predicted you’d get back together—”
“And break up again. So when is it, Mom? When does the cards say I’ll get back together with her?”
She reluctantly pulls out her deck, hands shaking, her emotions more evident than mine.
She shuffles three times, knocks on the deck, fans the cards in front of her face down, and closes her eyes, hands hovering over the spread deck she placed in front of her.
It slightly trembles over a certain spot, and she pulls out a single card, eyes widening in shock.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I whisper.
She turns it toward me. The Five of Cups. A dark, mournful card with three chalices overturned and bleeding onto the earth, while two stand behind a cloaked figure who refuses to see them.
Her voice is hushed, almost reverent. “This card indicates loss and regret. You’re clinging to what’s spilled instead of what remains behind you. The five? It speaks of time, Eddie. Five cycles. Five years, perhaps. It says she won’t be gone forever, but it will definitely feel like it.”
Though her words wound me deeply, she persists. She draws another card, slower this time. The Wheel of Fortune.
She stares at it for a long moment. “Change is coming whether you want it or not. What’s been broken can return, but it won’t be the same.
It’s because fate will continue to turn without her.
It’ll feel like it’s dragging you in circles, repeating the same path over and over until it finally stops. ”
Another card slides free beneath her shaking hand.
The Lovers in reverse. She exhales sharply, almost refusing to show me.
“This is the fracture. Choices were made in haste. Misaligned hearts battering each other for control. You and Amber… your paths are tangled, but not walking side by side. Reconciliation is written in the stars, but only if you survive the waiting.”
Her hands hover again, plucking a fourth card, The Star. It’s the same card she pulled for me before. Taunting me as always with its positive glow shining beneath the worn artwork of a woman pouring water beneath a night sky.
Mom’s lips tremble. “The Star is here again. It follows you. It brings with it hope and renewal. A healing after destruction. It’s not over, Eddie. Not forever. But the cards are clear… you’ll walk through heavy shadows before you see her face again.”
I stare at the spread, fury and desperation twist in my chest. “So, I’m supposed to wait five years? Bleeding out for half a decade while she forgets me?”
Mom’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. “Or you learn to heal first. That’s what the cards say. That’s what they’ve always said.”
“Then to hell with the cards.” I slam my fist against the table, rattling the deck. A single card somehow dislodges from the rest, falling lazily to the ground until it’s on its back, the artwork silencing the room.
She carefully picks it up, hands violently shaking, tears already pricking her eyes.
“What is it?” My voice is sharp and demanding.
She hesitates, fingers clutching the card so tightly I think it might tear.
When she finally turns it, the artwork makes my stomach twist. Death.
The skeletal rider looms across the card, trampling kings and peasants alike underneath his white steed.
In his hand, a white flower flag is raised as the sun struggles to rise on a new horizon, refusing to bring light to the death and carnage that spread below him.
I bark out a humorless laugh. “Perfect. Just perfect. So now I’m supposed to die too?”
Mom shakes her head quickly—too quickly. “It doesn’t always mean death. It means endings. Change. Transformation.” But her voice falters, betraying her.
“Don’t bullshit me, Mom. I see your face. What does it mean?”
Her lips tremble as she sets the card down beside the others, as though laying down a weapon.
“It’s not just one ending, Eddie. The presence of the Five of Cups, the Lovers reversed, and now Death…
” She swallows hard. “It warns of more than one loss. More than one soul leaving this world tied to your path. Multiple deaths… each one carving something from you until there’s almost nothing left. ”
The room seems to shrink around me, the air suffocating.
For a moment, I can hear nothing but the blood rushing in my ears.
Is she talking about my death? Amber’s? Wesley’s?
Could it be someone else close to me? Not just death, but multiple deaths in my future.
What the fuck? If all this shit wasn’t bad enough, now I’m going to have death breathing down my neck as well?
The world spins, and I launch myself into a chair at the table, making sure I don’t hit the ground.
Mom tries to soften the blow, her hand reaching for mine. “But endings aren’t final. Death clears the ground so that something new can grow. It doesn’t mean your story is finished.”
I yank my hand back, glaring at the spread. “Tell that to the graves I’ll be standing over.”
Her eyes glisten, but she doesn’t argue. And that silence is worse than any prophecy she could’ve spoken aloud.
But my gaze lingers on that death card. And no matter how hard I want to deny it, something deep in my gut whispers that she’s right. Someone close to me is going to die.
I pull my phone from my pocket again. A photo of Amber smiling like I’m her whole world stares back at me. It’s from our first date—the night she stole my heart and never gave it back.
I press call.
One ring.
Two.
Straight to voicemail I go.
I hang up before the beep.
Rich clears his throat. “Maybe she just needs space, man?”
“Space,” I echo, my voice flat. “She’s got a whole goddamn world of space right now.”
The air grows thick. My chest hurts like there’s a fist wrapped around my heart and squeezing.
Then my phone rings.
My head jerks up so fast that my neck pops. I grab it without looking, my pulse skyrocketing, ready to hear her voice.
But it’s not her.
It’s Pippa.
I almost send it to voicemail, but something inside me tells me to answer the call. “What?”
Her voice is small, almost childlike. “Don’t hang up. Please.”
I say nothing.
“I know you told me never to call you again, and I meant to listen. I swear I did. But I can’t do this anymore, Eddie. I can’t live knowing you hate me.”
I keep my tone cold. “Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before you did what you did.”
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, her words tumbling over each other. “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me; you don’t even have to like me. Just don’t erase me from your life completely. We were friends once. You were the only person who ever made me feel like I mattered.”
“Pippa—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“I’m up on Rattlesnake Mountain.” Her voice wavers, breaking in places. “I can see the whole city from here. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. I keep thinking… maybe if I’m gone, you can finally breathe again. You’ll never have to deal with me ruining anything ever again.”
My stomach drops, a cold shiver of Death’s immortal finger crawls down my spine, almost as if he’s picking out his first victim. “Pippa, don’t do this.”
“I’m serious. I don’t have anyone else to call. You’re it. And you hate me. So, what’s the point?”
I push up from the chair, pacing, my dad watching me like he already knows something’s wrong. “Tell me exactly where you are. Don’t move.”
She gives a shaky laugh. “Don’t bother. I’m not worth saving.”
“Pippa. Stay where you are. I’m coming.”
“You’ve already gone, Eddie. You’ve been gone a long time.”
“Pip—”
The line goes dead.
I try calling her back.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
And again.
More Voicemail.
“What’s going on?” Dad asks, already standing.
“It’s Pippa,” I choke out. “She’s on Rattlesnake Mountain talking about ending it.”
Mom’s hand flies to her mouth. Rich is already on his feet.
“I’m going,” I say, grabbing my keys.
Dad blocks the door. “We should call the police—”
“You call them. I’ll get there faster.”
My phone buzzes in my hand. Still no word from Amber.
One woman won’t answer. The other might not be alive in an hour.
And I’m the reason for both.