CHAPTER 90
Bristol’s heart sagged. It had been three weeks since she sent the message to Tyghan.
Three weeks of watching and waiting, her breath skipping in her chest every time she imagined seeing him again—imagined telling him about Rían.
She had hoped, for their son’s sake, that he would come, even though part of her was terrified at how it might turn out.
But no response at all? It hurt—more than she thought possible.
She had tortured herself these past weeks with memories of him.
The timemark had given her hope, but the silence had taken it away.
She guessed she wasn’t even a memory for him anymore.
She remembered that long ago night at the waterfall when she feared how much she might forget when the tick was removed, and Tyghan said he would dance beneath the moon with her every night until the end of his days, until she fell in love with him again. Instead, he was the one who had forgotten.
Or maybe he just hated her and never wanted to see her again. She could understand that.
You are my destiny, Tyghan. She still felt those words, even if he didn’t. She wished Harper had never found the timemark. It stirred up too many old feelings.
Bristol returned to her work, refilling the creamer, putting mugs in the dishwasher. She had reached out. She had tried. That was all she could do. But her son, how many excuses could she keep giving him?
Harper had just parked her car when she saw him—a man lurking near the coffee shop—and she didn’t like what she saw. A scowl that meant trouble. But it was his hair and eyes that gave him away. It was like she was looking at a grown up Rían. She jumped out of her car and intercepted him.
“Hold on there,” she said. “I know who you are.”
Tyghan looked at the petite woman, somewhere in her fifties. “I don’t think so. I’m afraid we’ve never met. If you’ll excuse me—”
“I didn’t say we had met. You’re here to see Bristol?”
He stopped, wary. And then he noted the woman’s familiar eyes—Kierus’s eyes, fierce and protective. “Maybe?” he answered.
“Maybe is not good enough.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Bristol’s older sister, but I used to be her younger sister, Harper.
Our sister Cat is dead. Bristol never got to see her again.
She lost thirty years when she came back from your world, including her old life.
As you might imagine, it devastated her, and she carried overwhelming guilt about our parents too. More than any person should bear.”
“I’m sorry for what she’s been through,” he said, and he was sorry. Old instincts he thought he had banished, rose in him. His instinct to comfort her.
“I had to put Bristol back together piece by piece when she got here,” Harper continued.
“She’s doing well now, but I don’t want you to go messing things up.
Tread carefully. She only just discovered that she still had that timemark a few weeks ago.
It took a lot of courage for her to write you that letter. Remember that.”
He got Harper’s message loud and clear. Protection ran strong in both sisters. “I’m not here to start something. She summoned me, so I came, and then I’m leaving. That’s all. I didn’t come for trouble.”
“Good,” she said.
“Do you know why she summoned me here?”
Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I do. But that’s for her to tell you.
Not me.”
“Sounds serious.”
She only shrugged, which meant it was serious. “Go on.” She brushed her hand toward the coffee shop. “She’s in there.” Harper left, walking to a library at the end of the street, but she glanced over her shoulder once, making another brushing movement with her hand.
He walked over to the shop and looked through the window.
His eyes landed on Bristol immediately, and he felt like he’d been slammed in the chest. He turned away, trying to force sense back into his head.
He didn’t expect that seeing her would be so hard.
It all seemed so fragile now, like he could break everything just by opening his mouth.
What did she want? What if she wanted him here for all the wrong reasons?
“Latte half caf to go,” Bristol called as she marked a paper cup.
The shop was busy, three of them on the schedule that day, and she had just ground a half pound of espresso for a customer when something outside caught her eye.
A glimpse that passed quickly. Something she wouldn’t ordinarily even pay attention to.
Bowskeep was a busy town on Saturdays. Still, she walked out from behind the counter, her heart skipping as she followed the flash of color like a fish following a lure—and then she got a better view.
Her stomach flipped over. The lettering on the window covered much of his face, but she’d know that scowl anywhere.
She glanced at Rían who was happily involved with his puzzle.
Bristol didn’t want Tyghan coming inside and making a scene, so she quickly pulled off her apron and slipped out of the shop.
He was right outside the door, like he was waiting for her.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello.”
There was a long silent moment as they both tried to act as if seeing each other for the first time in eight years was no big deal, but she could tell he was as jolted as she was. Everything about him, from his jaw to his shoulders, became stiff like he was bracing himself against a storm.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” she said.
“I was busy.”
“Everything okay in Elphame?”
“Yes. Everything is peaceful. Crops are good.”
She noted his skin had a golden cast now, and his hands were more calloused.
His gaze was more intense than ever, the blue ice cutting into her, or maybe she was just feeling his scrutiny.
She was thirty now. What did he see? The lines around her eyes?
That she was trying to be brave but was as nervous as the first time she met him at the Willoughby Inn?
His lips rolled over his teeth like he was trying to hold back eight years’ worth of words. She was sure he had a lot more to say than hello. “You summoned me, so I’m here,” he finally said, an edge to his tone. He wanted her to get to the point.
She didn’t want to spring such big news on him before they at least had a few friendly words first. “Can we walk?” she asked. “Just to the end of the block and back?”
He looked at her cautiously, then nodded.
As they walked, their conversation continued to be stilted like they were strangers, and yet when she stole a glance at him, it was like yesterday, all her old feelings bubbling up hot and bright.
She wished he would look at her too, but he seemed to purposely keep his gaze averted.
The guard he kept up made the conversation pure torture.
It was like every word was costing him something.
He only shared the polite bare events of his life, so she did the same.
He was balancing farming with lighter duties as Knight Commander.
She owned a coffee shop and was an art professor at the local university.
She tried to move to some deeper conversation that might engage him more—things he might find surprising.
“I shift regularly now, a long way from here of course, and I’ve increased my repertoire of magic. I’m able to—”
The corner of his mouth pulled in a frown. “Why? This is the mortal world. You don’t need that here.”
“Maybe I do. I need to be ready, just in case.”
“In case of what? No one knows you’re here but a trusted few. We faked your death. Just as you ordered.”
Was she imagining the resentment she heard in his tone? As you ordered? Or maybe he just wanted to remind her of her last tirade. She’d been so shattered and ashamed she barely remembered it—only that she begged to be left alone.
“Thank you, but I still have my reasons for wanting to keep my skills sharp.” She explained about just discovering the timemark, which was why she summoned him now.
He stopped walking and finally faced her. “Eight years and you never went through your pack?”
“There were circumstances that occupied my time. I forgot about it.”
“Those must have been some circumstances,” he said suspiciously.
“Yes, they were.”
She wondered if now was the best time to tell him about Rían, but then he blurted out, “Marriage? Was that it? Are you married?”
“No. Are you?”
“No.”
He looked different for a moment, his eyes resting in hers, questions simmering behind them. She tried to nudge him for more. “Anything else you want to know?” The distance between them seemed to be closing. He studied her and her hope spiked.
“I think I—” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, glancing down the street like there was somewhere else he had to be—or wanted to be.
“We should go back,” he said. “I don’t have a lot of time.
” He was agitated for the rest of their walk, and Bristol’s spirits sank, but for Rían’s sake, she would see this through.
She had to. This wasn’t about her but about her son who was still curious about his father.
As soon as they arrived at the coffee shop, he said, “So I came as you asked. What’s so important for me to see, that I had to come all the way here? ”
Fair enough, she thought. He owed her nothing. She braced herself, then pushed open the door of the shop and said, “Your son.”
Tyghan froze, staring past a shop full of customers, looking at a boy who unmistakably shared his likeness. His son?
“His name is Rían Trénallis Keats,” Bristol said. “He’s seven and a half. I’ve told him about you. But I need you to be—”
Gentle, she thought. He’s just a child. But he was already walking into the shop.
Tyghan maneuvered past customers and tables until he was standing beside the one where the boy sat. Rían looked up from the puzzle he was working on and scrutinized Tyghan, like he was noting the similarities too. Tyghan knelt so he was eye level with the boy. “Hello.”
Rían squinted one eye. “Are you my father?”
Tyghan nodded, swallowing back the knot in his throat. “I believe so.”
“You’re a king?”
“No, not anymore. I’m a prince.”
“You got demoted?”
Tyghan’s brows rose. “That’s a big word for a seven-year-old.”
“Seven and a half,” Rían corrected. “My mom reads to me a lot. I know a lot of big words. Are you still a soldier, or did you lose that job too?”
“Yes,” Tyghan said, fighting back a smile. “I’m still a soldier.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
Tyghan looked up at Bristol. She was standing nearby, watching them, and he was certain she had stopped breathing.
“Rían, can you hold on for just a minute? I need to talk to your mother.” Tyghan stood and grabbed Bristol’s hand, dragging her behind the counter and through a door to a supply room.
When he finally let go of her hand, Bristol steadied herself with one hand on a shelf.
Her heart pounded so hard she felt faint.
“I’m sorry, Tyghan. I am so sorry. I messed up.
” She stared at him, trying to catch her breath.
They were surrounded by bags of flour, sugar, and coffee beans in the cramped storeroom, and heat poured off him like he was ready to combust. “I didn’t discover I was pregnant until I got back here and—”
“You thought you had tossed out the timemark and had no way back.”
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He stepped closer to her, his gaze as stern as the Knight Commander at drills. “Yes, you messed up,” he said.
“I know,” she whispered.
He hovered over her. “But I stumbled like a complete fool in a hundred different ways, especially when I told you to forget me and I walked out. I’m the one who’s sorry.
Maybe we should just skip the messing up and stumbling and get to the last part—the part we’re spectacular at.
Loving each other. Because I haven’t stopped loving you, Bri.
Not for a single day. Because if I can’t take you into my arms and kiss you right now, I’m certain I will die. ”
Bristol’s mouth fell open, her thoughts jolting to a sudden stop.
“This would be your chance to say something,” Tyghan said.
She nodded. “I wouldn’t want you to die.”
Tyghan closed the space between them, and they bumped against the shelves, dishes clattering, utensils falling, the rest of the world disappearing.
He cupped her face in his hands, and his mouth met hers, her tongue warm against his, and she tasted of tears, hunger, and hope, and all the things he’d been afraid to dream of, forgiveness, tomorrows, and home.
Bristol was his home, not a place in one world or another but a place where his heart resided.
She was sewn into every part of him that mattered and always would be.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, tears streaming down her face, and his arms swept around her like they had never been apart.
They heard a tiny knock and looked over.
It was Rían, standing in the doorway. “Does this mean you’re staying?”