Chapter 9
Etan
The boardwalk still clung to me, the salt in the air, the slow heat of the sun against my skin, and the taste of buttered popcorn that lingered on my tongue. But most of all, the feeling of Jess walking at my side.
I’d spent years looking at these things through warped glass where the colors were pale and the air smelled like nothing. I used to imagine what the ocean might feel like against my hands, or how fried dough would melt on my tongue. Now, I didn’t have to imagine.
The boards beneath my feet had grooves worn smooth by decades of footsteps, and each uneven plank pressed its history into the soles of my shoes.
The gulls wheeled overhead, their cries sharp and alive.
In the Mirror Realm, bird calls were only echoes, faint and hollow.
Here in the real world, every sound was a pulse.
And Jess had been there to see it all.
She’d tried to keep her distance, a half-step back, eyes sharp even when she laughed, but I’d caught the moments where her guard slipped.
The way her fingers brushed the plush octopus I’d won for her.
The way her gaze lingered when she thought I wasn’t looking.
That wasn’t just wariness. That was attraction.
In the Mirror Realm, you didn’t get wonder. You got silence and shadows and a constant ache under your ribs. You watched people live and knew you’d never touch what they have.
Until now.
I leaned against the railing, staring out at the dark water below.
The tide pulled in slow and heavy. For a heartbeat, I saw my reflection in its surface, silver eyes, perfect smile, but the water shimmered, and behind me, the faint outline of my other world bled through.
Grey skies. Still air. No sound but my own breathing.
A reminder.
I looked away. I wasn’t going back there. Not when here the air itself tasted like life. Not when Jess was starting to look at me like I was more than a reflection.
She’d send me back if she could. I knew that. But maybe… maybe she wouldn’t want to. And if she hesitated, even for a second, I could take that second and make it forever.
Sometimes I thought about ending Nate, making this life mine without the shadow of the original. But the bond’s a leash and if I cut it, I get yanked right back into the grey. So, I keep him breathing, just enough to hold the thread tight.