Chapter 10 #2
Aria started to shuffle the deck, and I noticed a slight easing in her shoulders as she handled the well-worn cards, as if she felt more in her element here than out front.
“I’ll be doing a three-card spread for you tonight.
Roughly, the first one represents the past, the second one the present, and the third the future. ”
The cards she laid down on the tabletop were way less dramatic than I’d expected.
Like, I’d fully imagined a horned devil crowned with pentagrams and a crumbling tower about to be struck by lightning, or maybe an ominous-looking skull blooming with red roses or pierced with swords.
Instead, the three cards, each laid beside the others in a straight line, showed elegant figures on a metallic gold background, all dressed in sumptuous medieval garments.
“All right, so here we have the four of swords, the chariot, and the ace of cups.” Aria studied the cards for a moment, and I also gazed down at them, as if I could glean some meaning from the rich, warm yellows and the vivid scarlets.
“From the four of swords, it looks like you’ve been trying to take a breather after going through some turbulent times.
Maybe you haven’t been dating around as much as you used to, or maybe you’re just hesitant to jump back into that scene after a potentially messy breakup.
With the chariot in your present, though, it’s clear that you’re starting to move forward. ”
Maybe it was the mom friend vibes Aria was giving off, or maybe it was just that the seal I had slapped on my emotions was no longer enough to contain them all, but before she could move on to the next card, I found myself blurting out, “He was wearing a wedding ring. My ex, who I ran into a couple weeks ago. A wedding ring.” The room was so still and quiet I could hear the faint thumping beat coming from the bar next door—and how pain and rage made my voice sound ragged. “And I—I—”
Aria took my outburst in stride, gazing steadily at me from across the small table as she asked, “How long has it been since you broke up?”
“Not that long. Or long enough, I guess—for him, anyway.”
“Not for you?”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve been pining over him or anything.
The breakup was kind of rough for me, but I pulled through and moved on.
Then tonight, I kissed someone else and I—” Flipped out and ran away without saying a word.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t want my ex back.
I know that. But he got into my head, and now I feel like I need a love exorcism. Is that a thing?”
“If it’s not, it definitely should be,” Aria said, her lips lifting into a brief smile that didn’t erase the concern in her flawlessly outlined eyes. “Was he your first love?”
“No,” I said. “Just… the first relationship I thought might last. Like, I’d done a pretty good job to keep things light and superficial with everyone who came before him.
But he got under my skin, taking me out on these marathon dates and casually making plans for the future and not behaving like someone who had a whole other girlfriend he was keeping a secret. ”
“That sounds cruel,” Aria said, her eyes flashing. “To promise so much when he had so little to give.”
“I guess it was. And then, when I found out the truth, he just… cut me out of his life. Pretended I had never been a part of it. And it’s not like I think Dash—the guy I kissed tonight—will do the same thing.
I think I’m mostly just scared that I can’t trust myself not to mess everything up.
Ugh, maybe I already did.” I buried my face in my hands, groaning. “I can’t believe I ran away from him.”
“Why did you run away?” Aria nudged the middle card toward me. I looked down at the woman swathed in yellow and red, her hair streaming behind her as her chariot gained speed. “Was it to avoid getting hurt, or to avoid feeling at all?”
“Damn,” I said in a low voice. “You really are psychic.”
The thing about bottling up your emotions is that there inevitably comes a moment when the pressure gets to be too much and the cork pops and however deep down you have stuffed everything, it all comes shooting messily out.
You know, like champagne. Only less fun.
I must have spent half an hour pouring my heart out to Aria, saying things I hadn’t even thought I’d know how to articulate.
And I had to give her props, because she didn’t seem all that put out about it—she listened to me, interjecting here and there with comments that I found surprisingly insightful for someone who’d only just met me, but that probably weren’t all that surprising coming from a self-professed psychic.
By the time I finally made my way back out into the street, I was feeling much steadier than when I’d come in. Aria hadn’t tried to sell me anything, and when I’d finally calmed down enough for her to finish reading my cards, everything she had to say was gentle and reassuring.
Most importantly, though, Aria had helped me see that what in the moment had felt like self-preservation was probably closer to self-sabotage.
“From what you’ve told me,” she’d said, tapping on the chariot card with a black-painted fingernail, “I think you owe it to yourself to move past your fear and see what new beginnings are in store for you. It sounds easier said than done, right? It’s about trusting yourself, and that kind of trust doesn’t come easy to everyone.
But Mariel… I think you’re capable of it. ”
Without even hesitating, she’d separated the future card from the other two in the spread and handed it to me. “I want you to keep this as a reminder.”
I’d tried to protest. “But—won’t your deck be incomplete?”
“I have other decks,” she replied seriously, holding out the card until I took it.
The ace of cups, the card that represented my future and the fresh start that was supposed to come with it, was a visual representation of my cup runneth over. The gold goblet in its center was overflowing with streams of metallic blue water, a gold-and-yellow sunburst behind it.
“What if he hurts me?” I’d whispered.
“What if he doesn’t?” Aria countered.
I was aware, somewhere not so deep inside my consciousness, that I couldn’t throw this thing entirely at Milo’s feet.
He’d done a shitty thing, yes, but he was merely the latest person to have that particular honor.
If I was so broken that I was on the edge of hyperventilating just because I had shared a kiss with someone and it ended up meaning more to me than I had expected, well…
That was on me.
Which made it harder to face. Because then I’d be forced to confront the fact that maybe everyone who had ghosted me hadn’t done so because they were soulless bastards, but because I drove them to it.
See, this was why I tried to limit the extent of my self-awareness. It was blistering.
And the thing was, I kept thinking that maybe Milo hadn’t broken me, but that not taking a chance on Dash probably would. Never mind that after my little roadrunner moment, it was doubtful that he would want to take a chance on me.
Even if that was the case, though, and even if it turned out that I’d ruined my last shot, I knew that if nothing else, I had to stop running.
It was late, and I was so emotionally wrung out by my impromptu therapy session with Aria that it was tempting to go to my apartment and wait until the next day to face Dash.
But with the ace of cups in my pocket and the words I have to stop running ringing in my head, I made the conscious choice to go back to Dash’s to apologize and explain.
As I turned onto the still-busy Ninth Avenue, my gaze snagged on a late-night vendor whose blanket was spread with jewelry. Or, more specifically, on the silver H dangling from the heavy silver links of a necklace.
Get this—it turned out that the vendor had necklaces with every letter, but he’d sold out of all but the H.
Call it a sign, or the universe rewarding me for letting Aria read me for filth.
Whatever it was, I tapped my phone to the vendor’s card reader so fast, sparks should have shot out of the screen.
Now armed with an apology and a gift, I shot Dash a text saying I was on my way over and began walking without waiting for an answer.
Which proved to be a mistake, I realized the second time I hit the buzzer and got no answer.
Okay, so Dash didn’t want to talk to me. Fair enough. Pretending not to be home was a little much, but I couldn’t blame him for being fed up with my antics. Or maybe he’d gone out and found himself someone with less issues to hook up with. Understandable, really.
Defiantly swallowing down the lump that rose to my throat, I shoved the necklace into my pocket and walked away. This was it. I’d messed up, again, and I’d ruined everything, again. Honestly, maybe it was just as well that I’d kept getting ghosted before I had a chance to get this far.
I’d find a way to smooth things over in the morning so that it wasn’t too awkward going forward.
With my track record, you’d think I’d have more practice in that kind of thing, but the truth was, Yaz was often the one doing the smoothing for me.
The thought made me cringe—I’d relied on her way too much in the past.
I made it all the way back to my street before I realized that my keys were in the bag I had left at Dash’s.
“Cool, cool,” I said out loud, trying not to panic. An emergency locksmith was probably more expensive than what I could afford. Maybe Aria would let me hang out in the shop until morning?
I started to turn, then swiveled back as I spotted someone leaning against the outside of my building.
His face was in shadows, but as he peeled himself off the wall and stepped into the circle of light cast by a streetlamp, I saw a T-shirt the color of the summer sky, a pair of gray joggers, and a bright orange tote bag emblazoned in pink letters reading More Books That I Don’t Need.
My breath caught inside my chest, which suddenly felt so tight that only one word managed to squeeze past. “Dash.”