But not anymore. I step over my piles of baggage and walk to my shelf. My eyes catch on a few bags way up high that I don’t remember seeing before. Strange, I think to myself, but then, now’s not the time for mysteries. I pluck off that leather pouch of ours that I love so much, that once felt so precious to me but now feels like acid on my hands and my heart. I walk back out to Peter.
He’s sitting by John, who’s back in his chair., and he watches as I walk over, his eyes pinching at me, seeing all the things I’ve shaken off myself. He nods his chin at me, eyeing the bag in my hands that only he can see.
“You look a good bit lighter,” he tells me, but I don’t think he means it as a compliment.
“I am,” I tell him sternly to make a point.
John breathes out and looks away, like he feels sad for me, and I ignore him, going and standing with Peter instead.
The pouch feels impossibly solid in my hands. So strange, this invisible little thing that’s hurting me so much, even though no one else can see it.
I feel the breeze from that day and the snow swirling all around in it, the memory alive and vibrating inside as I hold it tightly, and I count to three.
Fated, that’s what the wind told me that day. And it scared me at first because of Peter. Because Peter was why I came here. Peter was who I thought I was supposed to be with. Because it was he and I, I thought, who were fated. Jamison felt like a threat to that, but actually, he was just a threat to me.
There are different kinds of fate in this world—someone said that to me once. I think I thought I was fated to love Jamison Hook. I think that’s what the wind tried to tell me.
He should have let him have me? I blow air out of my mouth like I’m breathing through labour pains.
I’m not fated to love him; I’m fated to hate him.
I toss the bag Peter can’t see onto the fire in front of us, and the flames swallow it with a shimmery, smoky lick.
Peter glances at me, frowning, confused. “What was that?”
I stretch my hands towards it, warm my shivering hands on my burning memory, and stare at the bag as the fire eats it, faster and faster, burning away like a piece of paper, and that day and how much I loved it begins to fade slowly from my mind the way it feels when you wake up and start to forget a dream.
And then it’s gone.
I look over at Peter, confused myself.
“I—” I purse my lips. “I don’t know.”
He pulls a face but puts his arms around me anyway.
God, he’s beautiful.
Rather statuesque, don’t you think?
Impossibly golden, especially all lit up by this particularly beautiful fire in front of us.
“Peter?” I fold myself in towards him and then stare up at him, stars in my eyes.
“Mm?” He looks down at me lazily.
I rest my chin on his chest. “I love you.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have carried this story in my heart for maybe 15 or 16 years now. I can’t believe that it’s out （finally） and in your hands. Probably if you’re here, reading this, it means you’ve likely read it*—or if you haven’t read it and you’re nevertheless here, you are maybe Ben or Aodhan?.
My very first thank you that will be slightly bigger than my second one? is for Emily Jane Averill. My sister-friend, ar*teest* extraordinaire, who has believed in me and this story since we met.
I am so grateful for how you have loved me and encouraged me, in all things but particularly this thing.
I am hugely confident that I would not be here—this would not be here without you.
Number two: Ben, you big fat two. You haven’t even read this, I know you haven’t. But that’s okay, because despite this, you have been the most releasing, supportive, and selfless man. You worked so hard for such a long time so that I could write full-time and plant the seeds of all the books we’ve now gotten to share with the world. Thank you for never letting my own low expectations of myself be your expectations of me. You, along with Emmy, believed this book to life.
To Junes and Bellamy, I want to say a true and genuine, tenderhearted thank you. And also tell you that I am so proud of you, and so grateful for you, and so in awe of your resilience and adaptability. Our lives have changed so much in the last year and you have been （for the most part） very patient and gracious with me as I learn to juggle.
Maddie, we were drowning and you saved us. I will be literally forever grateful for the joy and peace you bring to our family.
Abbey, Lindsey, Ash, Darion, and Cam, for all the ways you have help our family survive. I am so thankful for you presence in our lives.