Chapter Fifteen #2
“You look a bit ill,” Rowena continued. She walked across the room, black boots clicking on the hardwood, and set the creamer on the counter.
“It’s awfully cold out today. Do you need to sit by the fire for a bit?
I can make your coffee for you. I’m pretty sure I know how to do it now.
I was such a fool before, putting the coffee beans in there whole. I–”
“I’m leaving.”
Dead silence. It was deafeningly painful. Rowena was astonished, completely lost for words, and it felt like the whole kitchen could collapse at any moment.
Even Mavro, who sat on top of the wood-burning stove, was motionless. I swore the flames that made up his body froze in place.
“W-what do you mean?”
I could hear the thinly-veiled panic in her voice. The way she tried to fight it down, to keep her composure. I knew how powerful of an emotion heartbreak was, and that it was impossible to keep down. Impossible to hide.
“I’ve decided…” I paused, struggling to swallow.
Deep breaths. Remain professional. She is your employer, after all.
“I’ve decided I’m ready to leave Wisteria Grove.
Therefore, I will be officially resigning from my baker position at The Lone Wolf Café.
Would it be possible to get my final paycheck tonight? ”
Rowena opened her mouth, then closed it again. She did this several times, the hint of a syllable occasionally rising from her throat, until she exhaled sharply and planted a palm on the kitchen counter. She leaned over it, using her other hand to cover her nose and mouth.
She was silent. It only lasted about thirty seconds, but to me it felt like an eternity.
I wanted to speak up. To say something. To throw all my cards on the table, tell her what I saw in her cottage, and beg her to explain things. For her to tell me I had it all wrong. That she wasn’t a monstrous traitor to the magical community that killed creatures like me.
Maybe there was another explanation.
But I couldn’t take the risk.
“Rowena…” I paused, my lips slightly parted, unable to say the things I so desperately needed to get out.
I knew it was my affection shining through, like sunlight forcing its way through grey clouds, but I couldn’t let my feelings for Rowena quash my self-preservation.
Nothing would change what she was. Just like how nothing would change what I was.
“Yes.”
“What?” I startled, unsure if I’d heard her correctly.
Rowena lifted her hands from the counter, standing upright and facing me. “Yes. I can have your paycheck ready for you when the shop closes. Don’t worry about baking anything too fancy today. Focus on saying your goodbyes and getting everything in order for your departure.”
It sounded so formal, so robotic. It was exactly the same as how I’d told her I was resigning, and I could feel our affections for each other slipping away. We were back to where we’d started – employer and employee. Nothing more.
“O-okay,” I replied, my lips feeling like they were frozen. Don’t stutter. Be professional. Stop letting your feelings get in the way. “I’ll get started on some scones, then. May I use the blueberries from the bushes outside?”
“They’re not doing so well, since it’s so cold outside,” Rowena replied dryly. She didn’t sound upset or angry, but the warmth and affection that usually laced her voice was gone.
I questioned her statement, since Rowena had previously stated her chloromancer powers kept everything perpetually in season.
Couldn’t she heal the blueberry bushes if they were damaged by the frost?
Couldn’t she just grow new ones? I’d watched her conjure full-size pumpkins in a matter of minutes a few days earlier.
But it didn’t matter. Even if she was lying to me, I shouldn’t be so concerned about it.
“Alright,” I replied, mirroring her professional indifference. “I’ll use up the last of the chocolate chips instead.”
Rowena didn’t reply. She simply nodded, grabbed the container of cream off the counter, and strolled through the kitchen door. Watching it swing behind her as she left felt like a punch to the chest.
But I didn’t have time to mourn my feelings. They were what had gotten me into this mess in the first place.
I needed to focus on the real reason I was working at The Lone Wolf Café: making money by utilizing the one useful talent I had.
Aria still didn’t know what was going on, but as always, she was eager to help. She’d already lowered the bag of chocolate chips from the cupboards with her air magic, helping herself to a single chocolate chip through a tiny tear in the bag.
“You silly little mouse,” I sighed, patting her on top of the head.
We spent the rest of the early morning baking the chocolate-chip scones, working until the sun peeked over the horizon and Rowena flipped the CLOSED sign around to OPEN.
And the entire time, I kept my mind completely focused on my work.
I didn’t think about Hollenboro.
I didn’t think about my feelings for Rowena.
I didn’t even think about how much I’d rather be making blueberry scones instead of chocolate chip.
I just worked, floating through the day like a ghost, awaiting my inevitable and heartbreaking departure.
My heart hammered in my chest, making my blood run hot through my body and giving me heartburn, in the minutes leading up to 3 o’clock.
But when the clock rang three times and Rowena appeared in the kitchen doorway, I swore my heart stopped beating entirely.
I froze, my fingers coiled around a damp cleaning cloth.
I’d been wiping down the kitchen counters for nearly thirty minutes, scrubbing the same stubborn stains over and over again.
I knew there was no getting them out – this kitchen was at least several generations old.
But it kept me busy. And more importantly, it kept me out of sight of Rowena.
We hadn’t said a word to each other all day. Even when she needed help during the morning rush, I kept my head down, fetching cups and plates just as quickly as the customers placed orders. That way, Rowena wouldn’t have to talk to me.
Because I feared if she did, I’d crack like an eggshell. My composure was so brittle that a simple glance of affection from Rowena could cause me to break down and confess everything.
But I’d held it together. Even when the residents of Wisteria Grove found out I was leaving. Even when nearly a dozen of them said how much they’d miss me and my baked goods. Even when Adrian, Juniper, and Mabel asked for me to stop by their cottages before I left.
The last one nearly broke me. Because I couldn’t linger in Wisteria Grove. There would be no official goodbyes, no fancy send-offs, other than my pained smile and halfhearted wave from behind the counter.
I felt like a fraud. As much as I loved Wisteria Grove, my time spent there had been nothing but lie upon lie, stacked precariously on top of each other, with the danger of them all toppling over growing with each new addition.
And now, with the café about to close and Rowena gazing at me through the doorway, I feared the tower might finally collapse. Burying me and my broken heart beneath the rubble.
“Your paycheck,” Rowena stated briskly, pulling an envelope from her dress pocket. She placed it in her left hand, with her palm up, and extended her arm. She didn’t step forward. I would need to approach her to collect the money.
I walked slowly, trying to hide my fear, wondering if this was some sort of trap. But I was able to take the envelope from Rowena’s hand without incident.
In the process, our palms brushed. My whole body trembled at how soft her skin was. I’d never ached to throw my arms around her more than in that moment.
“I wish you the best.” Rowena’s tone was still flat. Dull. Her face was hard, and her lips were pressed in a thin line. But her eyes deceived her. They quivered and sparkled in the soft light of the kitchen, appearing watery even though there were no tears pooling in the corners.
I knew that look. It silently, defiantly begged: Please. Say something. Anything.
I could feel the dampness accumulating in my own eyes. I’m so sorry, Rowena. But I can’t.
Please know how much this experience meant to me.
How much you meant to me.
If only things had been different.
Gods, I wish we had more time…
“I should get going.” I turned, peeling my gaze away from Rowena’s.
The walk to the doorway felt like it was a mile long, punctuated by the soft thump of my boots against the creaky old floor.
My hand reached the door handle, and I clutched it like it was my last lifeline.
Despite being made of metal, it was warm. Almost soft.
I chewed my bottom lip.
One last time. One more glance.
It’s your last chance.
I craned my neck over my shoulder. Rowena still stood in the kitchen doorway, unmoving, still as a statue. I could tell her stony facade was starting to crack. It was hard to tell from a dozen feet away, but I swore teardrops were accumulating in her eyes.
“I… I…”
My final words to her.
Gods, what am I supposed to say?
“I’m sorry.”
I threw the door open and bolted into the freezing autumn air before Rowena could reply.
You’re pathetic. I scolded myself as I wrapped my cloak tightly around myself and braved the biting wind. This was unusually cold weather for October, even in Maine. It was so chilly I wondered if it was about to snow, even though the year’s first snowfall wasn’t normally until November.
My final words to Rowena were a terrible choice. Apologies were useless if Rowena didn’t know what I was apologizing for. It was a hollow, half-hearted attempt at mending the rift between us, even if I was already halfway out the door.
Deep down, I knew the apology wasn’t for Rowena. It was for me. To ease some of this pathetic guilt off my shoulders.
But I’d just made it worse. Because now Rowena would never know what I was sorry for. She’d be forever left without an answer while I ran away with my proverbial wolf tail tucked between my legs.
But what’s the alternative? I convinced myself. Telling her you’re a werewolf? Staying until she inevitably figures out the truth?
I knew I needed to stop feeling so guilty about self-preservation. No matter how much it hurt, I was better off heartbroken than dead.
I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize I’d made it back to my cottage until I was staring at the old front door. The one that didn’t lock. I sighed and turned the creaky handle, wandering into what had been my makeshift home for the past two weeks.
It was exactly as I’d left it. Blanket and pillow tucked against the wall. My witchy books stacked in a haphazard pile. An assortment of half-eaten chip bags and cracker boxes on the dilapidated kitchen counter.
It was hardly a home, but to me, it still counted as living on my own for the first time. It didn’t matter that it was falling apart. During my time in Wisteria Grove, it had been mine. No one else’s.
I settled cross-legged on the floor with one of the faerie fire lanterns. It glowed a soft blue, illuminating the dimming light in the cottage. It was still daytime, but the sun was already dipping low in the sky, and I knew it would be dark within the hour.
I pulled the cream-colored envelope from my dress pocket. Aria materialized on the floor next to me, even though I hadn’t summoned her. She always had such perfect timing.
“Okay, girl,” I sighed, relieved I had Aria to talk to. That I wasn’t completely alone in this ramshackle cottage nursing my freshly broken heart. “Let’s see what’s inside.”
I counted the bills, smoothing them and stacking them into piles by type.
Once I finished, I cocked my head in confusion.
I tallied the bills again.
I hadn’t miscounted. It was more than what we’d agreed on for my hourly rate.
A lot more.
A pained sob caught in my throat, and a pair of newly formed tears fell from my eyes, staining one of the bills with two tiny, damp circles.
A lot of emotions hit me at that moment. But the strongest one was regret.
I regretted that my last words to Rowena were an apology.
Instead, I should’ve thanked her. For everything.