Caden’s jaw tightened. “Are you done now?”
“Done what?”
“Done lying?”
I jolted. “I’m not lying.”
“Bullshit,” he said, and I tensed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know there’s something. You’re not telling me something.”
Ice drenched my skin. “I’m telling you how I really feel—”
“And I’m telling you that you don’t even believe the words coming out of your mouth. Neither do I. What you’re saying is not what you want.”
“It—”
“It’s not the truth,” he continued, the fire in his eyes flaming. “I know it’s not.”
I snapped my mouth shut as the walls around me seemed to press in. Was it possible that what he sensed of my emotions could betray me that much? I wasn’t sure, especially since I could barely make sense of everything that I was feeling.
Turning into the coward I didn’t think I was, I said, “I can’t do this right now. I’m really tired and just want to go lay down.”
Caden appeared as if he wished to continue, but after a moment, he said, “This conversation isn’t over, Brighton.”
How I wished that it wasn’t. “But it is,” I whispered, and then I walked out of the room, my heart in tatters.
* * * *
I’d gone straight to my room and climbed into bed, curling onto my side and squeezing my eyes shut against the flood of tears that threatened to burst free.
I hurt. My heart hurt. And I couldn’t think about what I’d just done and how incredibly wrong it’d felt. I forced myself to sleep, thinking that would be better than lying awake and feeling what I did now. So I slept the day and night away. I woke in the morning to find a covered plate of scrambled eggs and toast sitting in the chair Caden had occupied. I’d devoured the food by the time Luce showed to check on me. She was pleased and a bit surprised by how quickly my injuries were healing. I’d asked about the food, thinking she’d had it sent up, but she hadn’t. I tried not to think of who had while I asked if it was possible for Luce to pick me up some prenatal vitamins. Already ahead of me, she pulled a small bottle from the pocket of her white lab coat. According to Luce, a pregnant fae didn’t need the extra vitamins, but considering that I was human, and given the lack of nutrition I’d experienced in the early weeks of pregnancy, she believed it would be wise for me to take them.
I hid them in the dresser drawer.
After, I’d slept for most of the day, waking once when Ivy came to visit and then again in the late afternoon. The first thing I looked at when I opened my eyes was the chair.
Caden wasn’t sitting there, but another covered dish was.
Sitting up far more easily than I had the day before, I lifted the lid and found a warm bowl of soup that smelled of rich, flavorful herbs. There were two slices of thick, toasted bread beside it. My stomach grumbled.
Did Ivy bring this up?
Had it been Caden?
I stared at the food for what felt like a small eternity, just like I had that morning. A sense of unease mingled with the hunger, leaving me vaguely nauseous. Trepidation was acid in my veins. A fine tremor coursed through my arm as I reached for the food. I didn’t realize what I was doing until I caught myself looking around the room, making sure…
Making sure it was empty.
No one was here. No one was going to hurt me. Aric was dead. I was safe.
I still hesitated.
God, I hated this—hated that I associated food with pain now. Eating was…well, it was a favorite pastime of mine. I loved to eat.
Cursing under my breath, I snatched up the plate. Creamy soup sloshed over the side of the bowl. I grabbed the spoon and started hauling the liquid into my mouth, not even slowing down to really enjoy it. I shoveled bread in next, chewing enough that I didn’t choke. Every time thoughts of Caden, Aric, of anything began to creep in, I shoved them aside. By the time the bowl was empty and only crumbs remained on the plate, the unease had faded to a shadow.
I placed my hand on my stomach. I needed to get over this whole food thing. I was eating for two now.
That thought caused a half-hysterical-sounding giggle and a stunning realization. I wanted a family. A husband. A child. It wasn’t something I’d ever really consciously acknowledged, and it wasn’t as if I believed one needed a significant other or offspring to make a family, but that was what I desired. I wanted to give a child what I didn’t have—a father who was alive and not just present or active in a child’s life, but also there. I wanted to be the mother that mine couldn’t be—at no fault of her own. The realization brought forth a wave of aching yearning for what I wanted so badly but could not have.
I waited until I was sure my stomach wasn’t going to revolt and then I rose, leaving the room. I already knew I couldn’t just sit in here like I’d done. If I did, my brain would start going down roads best not traveled. I needed to move around—do something. The faint glow of sunlight still crept under the blinds. Moving to the dresser, I rooted around until I found a cardigan. I slipped it on and then made my way to the first floor. I kept my eyes downcast as I passed fae going in and out of the cafeteria and the common areas. Reaching the glass doors, I looked up as they parted. Cool, early evening air washed over me as I stepped out into a courtyard that was so beautiful it often seemed unreal to me.
I secretly believed that this had to be how the Otherworld looked, at least at some point in time. Tall trees rose up in the deep blue sky. Vines climbed trellises, and a variety of flowers bloomed, unaffected by the chillier temperatures as they scented the air with sweet and musky undertones. Paper lanterns hung from the branches, always lit. String lights crisscrossed over the stone pathway and led to little sitting areas hidden away.
This was a favorite place of mine, and whenever I visited Hotel Good Fae and got the chance to explore the courtyard, I did.
Reaching out, I skimmed my fingers over the slick vines. No matter what I did with my own courtyard, I could never hope for it to look like this. Not even when Mom was still alive. Gardening had seemed to ground her, keeping her in this world. If Caden weren’t correct about my mind being stronger due to the Summer Kiss, maybe I could seek refuge in the garden as well.
God, I hoped he was right. Glancing up at the sky, I prayed that he was. The child I carried in me needed a mother—
“Lite Bright?”
That voice. That name. Heart leaping into my throat, I spun around. “Tink.”
Chapter 6
Standing several feet back on the pathway, the brownie was in his full-sized form. He was well over six feet tall, and even in the fading sunlight, I saw that he looked different. I’d have to be missing my eyeballs not to notice it.
His normally shockingly white hair was a dark brown.
“Your hair!”
He stood there, arms at his sides, and I knew with his vision, he could clearly see my face. “Who cares about my hair right now,” he said, and then he moved.
Tink crossed the distance between us, and in a nanosecond, he swept me up. My feet left the ground as the right side of my cheek was planted to his chest. My ribs and the numerous bruises protested the embrace, but I didn’t say a word as I hugged him back just as tightly.