Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

“But I’m having a hard time fulfilling it. He wants me to write a poem a day.”

“Hold on.”

I stood up, going into the bathroom to fish through my wet pockets for the green pen she’d given me. The one I couldn’t not carry around. When I came back, I handed it to her.

“Try writing with this.”

Her eyes widened, and before she could comment on the fact that I still had it, or had it on me, I said, “I’m loaning it to you. I expect it back.”

She rolled her lips, playing with the plastic.

“I’m leaving eventually,” she murmured. “I won’t be able to give it back.”

The thought of her leaving flashed through me hot. Cold. Hurting my chest.

“There you go again, saying stupid shit.” My words were rough, quiet. “When you leave, will you finally do what you want? Be a poet?”

Be free.

She went quiet. “You said someone like me could never be a poet, not unless you paid my way.”

Snitch changed me. Fundamentally. Chemically.

When I looked up, Snitch was lost somewhere in her head. Before she would have taken me there, let me wander the twisted pathways with her. But now? I was left on the outskirts.

Silence wafted over us.

A thought popped into my head. “Is anyone going to the doctor with you?”

“I don’t have a doctor…” she admitted.

“Let me take care of you. I’ll take you to classes. I’ll buy you new clothes.” I gripped her face. “If you need anything—”

“If I need a horse?” she cut me off.

I exhaled some of the tension in my chest. “Yeah…yeah, if you need a horse.” I thumbed her cheek, swiping the smooth skin I’d missed. It was a perfect, quiet moment in the dark. These moments I’d missed.

Then something dark flitted in her eyes.

She jerked her head out of my hold, and just like that, the moment shattered.

“You’re married,” she said. “I’m…I’m married.”

“And? I can be your friend.”

She laughed. “You could never be my friend.” She yawned into her shoulder. “You—”

I grabbed her hand, cutting her off. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk about this later.”

I settled back on the floor.

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

It was. “It’s not.”

But holding her hand in the darkness was worth it.

A few minutes passed, and I thought maybe she’d gone to sleep.