Chapter 30
As soon as Gideon slammed the door, something in another room crashed to the floor. Of course it did.
Then the bottom of his paper bag gave way and his wet clothing fell through, squelching onto the foyer rug. Of course they had. He groused out a sharp breath as he bent to gather his things and take them to the laundry room.
He tossed the remnants of the paper bag into the trash on his way, noting that despite the bag in the bin being fairly new and mostly empty, it somehow smelled of fish. But then, what else would it smell like?
His teeth ground together as he went into the laundry room. Sabrina had no right to ask him about his curse. No right.
Except they had become friends. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny that. It was his fault. He hadn’t done enough to prevent it. He should have refused to go out with her that first night. Should never have gone to her house last night. Definitely should have stayed home tonight.
He’d allowed himself to be swayed by her pretty face and charming smile and sweet laugh. Her kindness and humor and ridiculous willingness to be pleasant to him hadn’t helped either.
Why hadn’t she kept away from him like everyone else in this town? What on earth had made her think she wanted to get to know him better? To spend time with him? Maybe poor judgment was her curse.
His frown deepened as he dropped his things into the washer tub.
It wasn’t really her fault, though. It was the sprite’s. The sprite had insisted both of them be present to fulfill the things on his list. That stupid list. He’d yet to see it. He’d only heard about it from Sabrina. He dumped a scoop of powder into the machine and closed the lid.
Not that he doubted it existed, but something seemed odd about all of this business. Not that he suspected Sabrina of being up to anything. She was far too guileless a person to play some kind of game. Far too earnest and real.
He pushed the button to start the cycle, hoping the machine would not overflow, quit halfway through, or decide to shrink everything he’d put in. All of those things had happened, which was why he rarely washed anything, preferring to send things out to the cleaners or just buy replacements.
He leaned against the machine as it kicked into action.
No, this mess wasn’t Sabrina’s doing. This whole thing stunk of the sprite. That’s who was behind all this chaos. That being was nothing but chaos. It was the sprite’s fault Gideon had ended up in the lake tonight.
Although now, because Gideon had attempted to save the sprite, who hadn’t actually needed saving, Sabrina liked Gideon even more. Her confession was proof of that.
His hand went to his cheek where hers had been, his eyes closing at the memory of that soft skin and soothing warmth.
He opened his eyes, angry at the sprite. Korrin could probably go back in that box whenever he wanted. He just didn’t want to, which Gideon understood. He was trapped in a box of his own.
But the sprite would have to return to it. He just would, if he cared at all what happened to Sabrina. He seemed to, but maybe that was just for show.
Maybe the sprite was playing them against each other, stirring the pot to see what trouble he could brew up next.
Unacceptable.
Gideon heaved out a breath. He cared very much what happened to Sabrina. Relying on Julia to get Korrin back into the box was not going to work. Gideon just knew it, the same way he knew that something else would go wrong before the night was over.
The fact that he cared about Sabrina was also why he didn’t want to tell her what his curse was.
Not only was he embarrassed by it, but he knew she’d want to fix him.
He’d seen it happen in the past. The few women he’d been out with before giving up on women altogether had all eyed him up as the ultimate project.
He wasn’t fixable. Sabrina had been right when she’d called him broken. He was. Completely.
But having to tell her that made him feel…worthless. Saying the words aloud would be like finally acknowledging that his life was a pointless endeavor. That he was passing time until the day came that the curse died with him.
He slumped onto the washer, his face in his hands. He would have to tell her. After a moment of letting despair drain through him, he straightened, found a shred of resolve, and took a breath.
All of that might be true, but death had not yet come for him. He had to keep living until that happened.
He trudged through the house, looking for whatever had crashed.
He found it in the living room. A photograph of his parents had fallen off the wall.
It was them at Christmas, one of the few he had a significant memory of.
They were posing in front of the decorated tree, the grandfather clock in the background.
They were smiling and happy. Not long after that photo had been taken, they’d gone to bed. That night, the lights on the tree had short-circuited and caused the tree to catch fire. The smoke had awoken his mother, who’d awoken them. His father had quickly put the fire out.
It had terrified Gideon, and it had made him realize just how real the family curse was. It hadn’t stopped him then from living his life or from having a few meaningless relationships, but with every passing year, he’d known that the day would come when he’d have to make a choice about his life.
He’d made that choice when he moved to Shadowvale. Now, once again, he seemed to be facing a decision he’d never wanted.
He got a dustpan and broom and swept up the broken glass, then tapped the frame into the dustpan as well to get rid of any remaining shards. He emptied the dustpan, put it and the brush away, and went upstairs to take a shower.
He was tired but restless in a way that prickled his skin. Like he had forgotten to do something important. There was nothing he could think of, outside of talking to Sabrina tomorrow, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.
It stayed with him all throughout the shower, lingering like the steam that filled the air. He got out, dried off, and changed into jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. He put his coat back on and went outside.
With no purpose, no direction, he walked, his mind working out the words he’d say tomorrow. Trying to find a way to tell her the truth that would result in what needed to happen. For them to go back to being the most marginal of acquaintances.
It had to be that way. For her safety. For his sanity.
The more he tried to work it out, the worse he felt. It was almost like his heart was breaking. That couldn’t be, however, because that implied his feelings for her were something greater than just caring about her. That his heart was involved.
It wasn’t.
Was it?
There was a bench up ahead. He took a seat, leaning back to stare at the stars gleaming in the night sky. One streaked across the velvety blackness, but what was the point of making a wish?
There wasn’t one. Wishes were for people without curses.
He swallowed at the emotion thickening his throat. How had all of this happened? How had he let himself feel something? That went against every rule he’d set in place. Against all he’d done to keep himself, and those around him, safe.
The best thing he could do was leave. Start over. The idea filled him with dread. But maybe it really was the right decision.
He drew in a lungful of clean, cold air.
He’d have to finish the music box. He couldn’t go without that being completed.
He couldn’t go without finishing all the jobs he had.
That wasn’t who he was. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and leaned forward, the weight of everything pressing down on him.
He stared blindly at the sidewalk, working through the details of such a move, wondering where he’d go. He hated his life. Hated his curse. But this was for the best. It was what needed to happen.
Whatever feelings Sabrina had for him, they would fade. Another man would come into her life, of that he had no doubt. Not just because she was kind and beautiful but because she was those things and so much more.
What man wouldn’t want a woman like that at his side? She was a dream.
He closed his eyes. That was all she ever would be for him. A once-upon-a-time kiss and a dream that would never come true.
He sighed deeply, got up from the bench, and headed for his shop.