Chapter 10
Goldie had decided to stop by the creek; the familiar bend of the water was a small, desperate solace before she faced the quiet dread of her empty cottage.
The air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the stale, overwhelming scent of myrrh and leather that still clung to her memory from Lucian’s volatile presence at the shop that morning.
She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of damp earth and pine, trying to steady the frantic rhythm of her heart.
Sinking onto the familiar stone bank, she watched the wind trace silver ripples across the water’s surface, each ripple a perfect, circular metaphor for her circling thoughts.
Lucian. His name was a dull, constant ache.
He flooded her thoughts, making the sadness seep deeper into her soul.
She bit her lip, trying to staunch the flow of tears threatening to fall.
A decade. Ten years of rebuilding only to have a single disdainful glance from his golden eyes shatter her fragile peace.
She looked up at the night sky, the sprinkling of sparkling diamonds catching her eye as she saw one shoot across.
She whispered the wishing spell that her mom had taught her when she was a child.
“Falling star, so swift and bright, carry my wish into the night.” She closed her eyes.
“May Lucian find the peace he needs.” As the words left her lips, the breeze stirred the leaves overhead.
The last shimmer of the shooting star lingered for a heartbeat longer than it should have before fading into the night.
Sighing she sank her head into her knees. I can’t avoid home forever.
She stood up, the action a deliberate break from the suffocating memories, and walked quickly to her car. As she walked, she stopped as she heard the crunch of dirt, but the parking lot was empty when she got there.
She climbed into her car and made the trek back to her house. When she pulled up, Ellie was there, sitting on the front porch swing. Ellie’s legs kicked the swing back and forth.
Ellie gave her the usual sweet smile and asked, “How are you doing?”
“The real question is, how is your mom?” Goldie sighed.
Ellie stared for a brief moment before she said, “Oh, that.” Ellie swatted her hand in the air. “She was being dramatic. It turned out to be nothing.”
“What was wrong?” Goldie asked.
“Just one of those things that sounds scarier than it is.” Ellie shrugged. “She was back on her feet before I even got there.” She flashed a quick smile. “Anyway, enough about her. How’s the cafe today?”
Marigold laughed, a short, hollow sound. “The cafe has been busy now that the weather has gotten colder.”
“I didn’t come here to talk shop, Goldie,” Ellie laughed, rolling her eyes.
Goldie’s brow creased, a shadow falling over her eyes, as a frown tightened her lips.
“We do that enough during business hours.” Ellie’s brown eyes rolled. “Though I have to admit you look like you need a drink as much as I want one.”
“Do you want me to brew you some tea?” Goldie sighed.
Maybe having company will distract me from my own heart torturing my mind.
“Umm,” Ellie sighed, her dark hair shaking as she shook her head. “I think you misinterpreted what I said.”
“How did I misinterpret that?”
Ellie rose, the worn floorboards creaking softly beneath her feet. She walked over and placed her hands on Goldie’s shoulders. With a steady voice Ellie said, “Put on your skankiest outfit and let’s hit a dive bar.”
“Oh,” Goldie laughed. “I wish I had the capacity for that, but my heart and mind are all jumbled up right now.”
Ellie groaned dramatically. “Exactly why you need cheap drinks, loud music, and some random guy named Trevor flirting with you badly.”
Goldie snorted despite herself. “That somehow sounds more exhausting.” a smile spreading across her face.
“You’re exhausting,” Ellie countered. “You’ve spent the last ten years acting like one broody jackal owns your emotional support system.”
Goldie’s smile faded slightly. “He doesn’t.”
Ellie raised an eyebrow.
Goldie looked away. “Not anymore.”
Ellie frowned, her expression shifting to one of intense, sympathetic concern.
“That emotionally constipated jackal shifter is back in town, and suddenly my best friend is turning into a grumpy hermit again. We do not need to let him ruin our time off. All he brings is chaos, Goldie. Pure, unadulterated chaos, and you don’t need it.
You need a drink with Trevor or whatever his name will be. "
Goldie sighed, moving away from Ellie and walking into her living room, where Nibbles was currently curled up in her favorite reading chair.
He was the only forever in her life, a fluffy, chaotic anchor that required no romance and offered no accusations.
Back then, she had genuinely believed that she and Lucian would be together forever.
Trying to wrap her mind around the fact that forever didn’t actually exist was a tough pill to swallow.
She had gone on a few tentative dates over the years, always terrified they would end in the same crushing way as her first relationship.
She kept looking for a version of a male who probably never existed in all the males she dated, which then led to disaster.
After a long, weighted silence, Goldie turned back to Ellie. "I think I just need a minute to get past the old hurt, the old vision of love, and see the grumpy, cold male he really is,” Goldie admitted, staring unseeingly out the window.
Ellie let out a short, sharp laugh, crossing her arms. “Good luck with that, Goldie. ‘Grumpy, cold male’ is his whole aesthetic. I’m pretty sure he exclusively buys all his clothes at the Brooding Bastard General Store. He’s about as warm as a frost witch’s frozen spells.”
Laughing, Goldie remembered the word games they played as kids. “I’m pretty sure he buys his personality from a catalog called Moody Men Monthly.”
Ellie snorted. “Oh absolutely. Monthly subscription includes free flannel and unresolved emotional trauma.”
“Don’t forget the complimentary glare,” Goldie added. “And the deluxe edition comes with commitment issues and a truck that smells faintly like motor oil and bad decisions.” Goldie giggled childishly, and Ellie joined in.
“See this is why you need to come with me and get a drink,” Ellie laughed. “I can distract you from that gods awful thought of him.”
"It's not just that,” Goldie confessed, rubbing a weary hand over her face as all traces of laughter vanished. “I’ve spent ten years telling myself I was over him, but I hated that when I saw Lucian, I still felt that spark. That stupid, traitorous, beautiful spark."
Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “I get it, I do. But you can’t go back to that, Goldie.
He accused you of being a monster. You pleaded with him to believe you then, didn’t you?
If he didn’t believe you the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, why would he believe you now?
You have to let that stupid spark die. It’s poison, not magic. "
Goldie nodded, knowing she was right, but her heart, the foolish, un-charmed thing, still had wildly different, painful thoughts on him.