“But past isn’t necessarily prologue.”
“How can you dismiss four similar horror stories, Jasher? I’m poison. I’m some kind of black widow to men’s futures, their careers, their dreams, their lives. And when I weigh my whims of wanting to be with you for all the reasons you listed against the potential for you not being able to save lives as a doctor due to whatever bad juju transfers from me to the man I’m with—well, I can’t in good conscience even look at the ring you held up to the moon for me to look through tonight.”
“You saw that, too?” He smiled at her. “I hoped you could see it.”
It had been so sweet. So tender. And unexpected. Like everything about Jasher. “I can’t take the ring.”
“That’s fine. It was just—I thought you were …” He pulled her head against his chest, and she rested it there, listening to his heartbeat, thudding low and calming. “I thought you would want proof that I wasn’t just one of those guys who’d ask you to follow him to a different city with no token of commitment.”
The very last thing Sage wanted or needed was a token of commitment. But blast him for being so thoughtful. For being so sincere and concerned about how she might feel. It ate her up inside.
“These past weeks with you have been really great.” She closed her eyes, picturing the rush of the emergency room, the sensuousness of the sluice, the fire brigade, and the flirting. Not to mention the steamy-magic kiss in the linen closet. He’d made this the best summer of her whole life. “I’m so sorry it has to end.”
“But it doesn’t. You could come with me.”
No, she couldn’t. “The hospital needs me. Babbage is still out of commission.”
Jasher cleared his throat, which at this proximity nearly deafened her. Sage sat up. “What is it?”
“Babbage may not be returning to Mendon Regional Medical Center.”
“What?”
“Arthritis.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” Sage couldn’t let Jasher blame himself for that.
“Oh, I know. The guy is in his late sixties. It happens.”
Good. He shouldn’t blame himself. But wait. What did that mean for Mendon Regional Medical Center? “I wonder who they’ll hire to replace him.”
“You. You’re the short list.”
Sage pulled away from him. “How do you know this?”
“McGreeley said something to me. Just today.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Sage stood up and brushed her lap, even though nothing was on it. “How could you keep something like that from me? Especially while simultaneously asking me to leave town? You really don’t care about Mendon and its people, do you?” She paced two steps left, two steps right, two steps left again—and then headed into the kitchen to wash a fork that had been left in the sink.
“I should have told you immediately.” Jasher came up beside her. “I can see that now.”
“I need to think, Jasher. And you should probably head home.”
“Sage. I—a lot of stuff was on my mind. And then that whole blowup with Tyanne. The news about Babbage got shoved to the back of the line.”
Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t. But acting mad might be enough to make him feel like he should leave, and like she wasn’t refusing to go with him to Reedsville simply based on the curse. Fake anger was a perfect excuse.
Because no matter what she actually felt—that Jasher was the best man of her acquaintance, as they said in those old movies—he had a mission to perform in life with the skills he’d been blessed with, and there was no way she could mess that up.
“Good night, Jasher.” I love you. And I always will. She didn’t look up. He stood beside her for a long time. The hot water ran over her hands, but she didn’t move.
“Sage.”
She didn’t respond.
At last, he let himself out, and the door clicked softly behind him—just as the flood of tears broke from their dam and poured down Sage’s cheeks.
She could never have him.
She could never, ever have love.