“I love you too.” Tears prick the corners of my eyes and I lace my fingers through his. “They’ll let you leave? Just like that?”
“No,” he says honestly. “But once I revoke them, they won’t have whatever power they think they have over me. I’ll be a free man.”
“What are you going to do?”
Ethan pulls his hands from mine so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders . “I might have already been asked if I’d want to start teaching a martial arts class at the gym.”
“You have?”
“The owner said something like a month ago but I didn’t put much stock into it, obviously. I’d be close to home, the hours wouldn’t be bad, and I’d get holidays and at least one day a weekend off.”
Tears blur my eyes and my lips curve into a smile. “It sounds perfect.”
“Right? Now, I’m going to go tell those assholes to get fucked.”
Two months later…
* * *
Holding my phone up, I take another picture of the new barn and send it to my mom. She texts back right away.
Mom: Wow! What a difference in just a few weeks!
Me: I know, it’s crazy how fast it went up. The outdoor arena is all fenced in and I took Mystery out today for the first ride.
Mom: Have fun but be careful! I can’t wait to see it in person when Dad and I come out this summer.
Me: It’ll all be done by then!
I take a few more pictures and go inside. Ethan is stretched out on the living room couch, half asleep. It’s not even noon and he’s already napping, though I know it’s because he and Nik stayed up late playing video games last night.
“I have to run into Paradise Valley,” I tell him. “Want to come with and grab an early lunch?”
“Sure,” he replies groggily. “I never turn down food.”
“We should leave soon so you’re not rushing to get back before work.”
“Right,” he yawns. “I have plenty of time before my two o’clock class.”
“Only if we leave now,” I say and start up the stairs to go into our room so I can change. Ethan started out teaching just a few martial arts classes at the gym, but quickly got requests to do more one-on-one personal training as well. He’s been busy with people wanting to get into shape for the summer and he loves it.
And I love seeing him happy.
“What do you have to get from PV?” Ethan asks, coming into the room.
“Chicken feed. I didn’t realize how much those little chicks would go through!”
“It is surprising given how small they are.” He pulls the white t-shirt he wore to bed over his head and gets dressed. We make it into town right before the lunch crowd, and go to one of my favorite little cafés. It has a bit of a dated hipster vibe, but it’s laid back and has the best little reading nook in the back with dozens of well-read paperbacks.
As soon as we’re inside, my attention is pulled to a couple sitting in the middle of the café. From where we’re standing, I can only see the back of the woman’s head. She has long, dark hair and something about her—or maybe the guy she’s with—is familiar in the weirdest way.
The hostess leads us to our table and I look at the dark haired woman again. She’s very pretty and very pregnant, and has one hand resting on her stomach. As if she can sense me looking, she flicks her green eyes to me. The same sense of familiarity goes through me, and I know I’ve seen her before, but I cannot for the life of me place it.
Maybe she’s a witch and I saw her in passing at the Covenstead? I don’t remember seeing any pregnant witches there, but it’s not like I was specifically looking out for any. There’s something about the guy she’s sitting with as well, and I know I haven’t seen him before. He has short dark hair and shocking blue eyes. For some reason I know he’s not the baby’s father but a friend. Even a brother, perhaps?
“Rene likes this place?” Ethan asks, hanging his jacket on the back of his chair. I jerk my attention away from the woman, embarrassed she caught me staring.
“She does. She’s the one who told me about it, after all. The veggie pot pie is really good. So is the portabella mushroom sandwich.”
“What about a real sandwich? With meat?”
“They do have non-vegetarian options.” I take the menu from his hands and flip it over. “See?”
“Good,” he says, and I laugh.
“You do realize that since neither Nik nor I eat meat all that often, you haven’t been eating it either and you haven’t gone hungry.”
“It’s not good for weightlifting,” he says, and I just roll my eyes. It’s something I think we’re forever destined to disagree on, though if that’s our biggest issue, then I really have nothing to complain about.