I nodded, having heard this before. “Do you know of anyone else who might be able to help?”
She gave a soft laugh, but it wasn’t a joyful sound. “Someone more powerful than me? Because that’s what they would have to be. And no, I don’t know of anyone.”
I wasn’t surprised to hear it. I’d been looking for years and hadn’t found anyone, either. “Thank you, anyway.”
She nodded. “Now help me to the living room.”
I did as she asked, getting her set up on the couch and paying her fee. She insisted that she didn’t need any more help, so I left, feeling like I was a hundred feet underwater.
Chapter
Sixteen
Isobel
Rafe never appeared at Lavender House, and I spent the rest of the day working on the upstairs bedrooms. I painted them beautiful shades of pale blue, sage, and rose, but I was unable to stop thinking of him.
When I was done for the day, I joined Emma, Holly, Aria, and Tabitha for drinks at Potions & Pinot. It was another girls’ night, and I’d been looking forward to it. Once again, I had a fantastic time. But unlike the last time, I was smart enough to call Anita the cab driver before midnight. She dropped me off at the boathouse right before her shift ended, and I let myself in, eager to get out of the chilly autumn air. My dress was too thin for the weather, but it was so beautiful that I’d been unable to resist wearing it again.
A light from the kitchen caught my eye, and I spotted Rafe sitting at the table, a bottle of whiskey and a glass in front of him.
That was unusual.
I didn’t know him well, but he wasn’t a big drinker, as far as I’d seen. I approached, noticing the sag to his shoulders.
Worry shot through me. He definitely wasn’t himself.
He didn’t seem to notice me approach until I was right in front of him, and he looked up, surprise on his face.
“You look beautiful.” His words weren’t slurred—he would never lose control like that—but he was definitely drunk.
“Thanks.” I smiled through my concern and took a seat.
Something was up with him, and I wanted to find out what. But I couldn’t just ask him. He might be drunk, but he’d never answered my questions before.
I nodded toward his bottle of whiskey. “Mind if I have some?”
“Help yourself.”
I poured more into his glass, then took a sip. It burned, and I tried not to wince. I really wasn’t a whiskey person, but I wanted him to feel like I was joining him, not interrogating him.
“I went out with the girls tonight,” I said, searching for the best way to bring up the subject of why he was drinking like a fish. It came to me in an instant. As much as I hated the idea, it was the only way: I would have to share first. “Want to hear something depressing?”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’re feeling awful, and I’m hoping that if I tell you something crappy that happened to me, you’ll tell me what’s happened to you.”
“That’s an interesting approach.” He took the whiskey and sipped it.
“Is it working?”
“Depends on how terrible your story is.”
“Pretty terrible.” The corner of my mouth tugged up in a smile. “You can judge for yourself.”
He gestured for me to continue.
“All right, so I went out with the girls tonight. And it was nice,” I said. “I didn’t really have any friends back in London.” Sharing the worst part of my life sucked, as it turned out. I’d already told him a little about my relationship with Tommy, but this was the really bad part.
He was looking at me, concern and interest in his eyes, but he said nothing, which was smart. This was hard enough without hearing his voice. If I stared into the distance, I could pretend he wasn’t even there while I shared.
“Anyway, it was just Tommy and me. Or at least, I thought it was. I gave him my whole life, like an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“I was.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing you can say that will make me believe that.”
I smiled. “Thanks, but wait until you hear my story.”
“All right, keep going.”
“So, just before I came to Charming Cove, we had a date at a fancy hotel. Way nicer than any place he’d ever taken me, so I thought he was going to propose. I’d given him my whole life, so of course I thought that.” A bitter laugh escaped me, but it was more at myself than anything. “I got to the hotel and went up to the roof like I thought I was supposed to. I’d found a letter from him that was meant for her, I think. Or maybe it was a reminder to himself. Anyway, all the staff seemed surprised to see me. I thought it was because I wasn’t dressed right, but apparently, it was because I was the second woman to arrive that night.”
A low growl escaped him, and I glanced over. His brow was furrowed, and anger lit his eyes. “He was cheating on you.”
“Yep.” I took another sip of the whiskey. “There he was, with another woman. She was beautiful, too. Crazy beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” His tone was low. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My gaze flashed to him, and I had to stifle a gasp. He was drunk, but not that drunk—he meant it.
“The worst part was, I’d have said yes if he’d proposed. And it would have been the worst thing in the world. I can see that now. But I was just so blind back then. I’d needed to see his betrayal to leave.” I sipped the whiskey, wishing I’d been stronger sooner. That I hadn’t wasted so many years on him. “Anyway, that’s my shitty story. What’s yours?”
He heaved a sigh, and I looked up at him. His gaze searched mine, heavy with pain.
Suddenly, I was scared about what he might say. Because my story had been bad, but I was pretty sure his would be worse.
Rafe
I couldn’t believe I was about to share this, but her story had been so honest, and the pain in her eyes had been so real. The whiskey made it easier to talk, though. Much easier. “When I was nineteen, I fell in love with a witch. At least, for a while. But I was nineteen, so I was an idiot. And like an idiot, I broke up with her on Valentine’s Day.”
She winced. “That’s bad.”
“I know.” I nodded, taking a sip of the whiskey. “It was an impulse that day. I kept seeing all these couples together—sharing coffee, taking walks, even riding a tandem bike, for fate’s sake.”
“A tandem bike?” I smiled. “That’s almost comedically romantic.”
“They wore matching jumpers.” I couldn’t remember the most important part of my life, but I could remember that ridiculous detail. “In that moment, I realized I couldn’t give her what I was seeing all around me. I felt like I was leading her on.”
“Oh, no. So you didn’t wait?”
“No. Obviously, I should have. But I felt like a liar.” How stupid I’d been.
“So you broke up with her.”
“I tried to explain, but she was angry.” I could still see her face and the storm in her eyes, though she’d banished her name from my memory. “She was powerful. Immensely so, in a way that I hadn’t realized. She cursed me to forget my pack, and for my pack to forget me.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue.