Chapter 32
Gideon couldn’t bring himself to look at Sabrina until the customer left. When he met her gaze, her eyes were filled with questions. And a surprising amount of anger.
As soon as the door closed, she let loose. “Closing? What do you mean you’re closing your shop?”
This wasn’t how he’d wanted to have this conversation, but there was no going back now. He sighed, splayed his hands on the counter, and tried to find the words. “I … need to leave town.”
“For how long?”
“For good.”
“What? Why?” Her mouth went slack as if she had no more words.
“Because it’s for the best.”
She blinked, chest heaving as she drew in air. “What best? Whose best? I don’t understand. Why? Has something happened?”
What hadn’t happened? The conversation he rehearsed in his head had gone very differently. “You were right when you said I was broken. I am. Too broken. It’s just better if I go.”
“What are you talking about? Better for who?”
He really hadn’t expected the anger. He’d figured on resignation. Maybe indifference. But this? He shifted his gaze to a spot on the floor. This wasn’t going well. “For both of us.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, the light in them brightening to pinpoints that seemed to cut into his soul. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He took a breath, trying to understand what had her so upset and failing. “What’s dumb about it? Why is this bothering you so much?”
“Are you serious right now?” She came closer, eyes sparking with indignation. She stared at him like she was trying to see into his soul. “What are you afraid of?”
“I …” He shook his head. Answering that would mean telling her the truth. But it seemed the time for anything else had passed. “Of hurting you.”
“You think leaving isn’t going to hurt me? I already told you I like you.”
“I didn’t mean emotionally.” He stared at her, confounded that removing himself from her life would cause her such stress.
He’d obviously gotten something wrong. “I’m not the man you think I am.
Or think I could be. My curse is …” There was no good way to say this, no soft words to use.
“Being around me puts you in danger. Physical danger.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been drinking? What are you talking about? I’m not in danger.” Her eyes went wide. “Wait. Are you telling me you turn into some kind of monster?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that the more you’re around me, the more chance there is that something will happen to you.
Something bad. I’m sorry, but it’s true.
” He swallowed hard. “I’m a jinx, cursed with bad luck.
It’s followed the men in my family since my great-grandfather.
” He exhaled. He’d done the hard part. “And I am determined it ends with me. That’s why I need to be alone. ”
She leaned in, putting her hands on the counter, inches from his. “Then stay and let me help. That’s literally what I do. I fix things. Not that you’re a thing, but it’s what I’m good at. Maybe I can—”
“No.” That’s exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.
Her wanting to fix him. Her thinking she could.
Because it couldn’t be done. He was as broken as his father and his grandfather and all the Locke men before them.
The curse was deep and tenacious and nothing anyone had ever done had made a difference.
And several of those who’d tried had paid dearly for their attempts.
“No? You don’t even want to try?”
“There’s nothing to try. It’s all been attempted.” He didn’t want to tell her about those who’d failed. How they’d been hurt. How at least one life had been lost and another totally ruined.
“Gideon—”
“Sabrina, please. This isn’t easy for me.” He was trying to protect her. Why couldn’t she see that?
She backed away. “I just didn’t take you for a quitter.”
“I’m not.” If he could quit this curse, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“I thought there was something going on between us. Something worthwhile.”
He shook his head but said nothing. There wasn’t anything he could say. What could he do? Tell her she was right? Admitting that would only make things worse. For both of them. “I’m sorry.”
“For leaving? For letting me think we were friends? For leading me on?”
“I never meant to lead you on.”
“Then what did you mean to do?”
Even in her anger she was beautiful. He had no answer for her question and no heart to fight with her. He reached under the counter and brought the music box motor back up. He set it on the velvet pad and pushed it toward her. “The music box is done. You can keep all the money. I don’t need it.”
Her nostrils flared. “That’s so magnanimous of you. Enjoy your new life, wherever you end up. I hope you’re happy.”
She snatched the motor and stormed out.
He exhaled, but so much more than air left his body. His glimpse of what his future could have been. The brief taste of happiness he’d had. The bright spark of life that she brought to his existence.
He sank down onto the stool behind the register and let himself be miserable. Wasn’t hard. It was an emotion he was far too familiar with.
But he’d done what he’d had to do. Sabrina would be safe now. And he would be alone. Again. For always. As he should be. As his wretched curse wanted.
With a sigh, he pushed to his feet and stood, thinking of what he needed to do. He should pack up the more expensive pieces and bring them home. And he’d need to call a moving company, for sure. But he had no idea where he was going.
He didn’t need the money the shop brought in, so having a business wasn’t a necessity. Unless he considered his sanity. He’d have to find a place where he could at least have a small workshop.
Unless his curse decided not to bother him at his new home.
He blinked. What if his new home was fine? What if it focused on his work instead? He groaned and raked a hand through his hair. He hated this. He hated everything about this. Change was dangerous.
But he especially hated how Sabrina had reacted. Her reaction had been nothing like he’d expected.
Although … what had he really thought would happen? That she’d applaud his decision? She’d kissed him. And she’d confessed she liked him.
He’d honestly believed that after explaining about his curse, she’d understand. And that yes, she’d want to fix him, but that she’d see the wisdom in him leaving. Or at least the need. That it would all make sense.
It didn’t seem things had gone that way. Obviously.
But what was done was done. He had to leave to protect her.