Page 42 of A Winter Redemption

“I’ll see you soon,” Ketho said and left, not waiting for Jarne’s response.

ChapterTwenty-Five

Jarne stared at the notebook open on his desk. Beside it lay a piece of bark, five Solstice berries, and two leaves. He tapped his pencil against the paper, trying to concentrate on his ideas for perfumes.

But he couldn’t concentrate. He hadn’t been able to in the three days since Ketho had left abruptly.

What did I do wrong? Why did he leave?

He must have done something to make Ketho run. But no matter how he searched his brain, he couldn’t find an answer.

The day before Ketho left had been perfect. One of the best days of Jarne’s life. Maybe even the best. But clearly, it hadn’t been for Ketho. Perhaps it meant nothing to him.

Rhorton’s laughter rang down the hall, followed by the others. Jarne turned and stared at his door. He’d heard the voices and laughter for the past hour, and they didn’t seem to be stopping.

He stared back at his notebook. He wondered where Ketho was. Perhaps Ketho had gone back to the inn. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Ketho sliding in across from some stranger at a table, interest and desire in his laughing silver eyes.

Jarne rose. He stared at the fire and then squeezed his eyes shut. Should he go for another walk? He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t stand to be alone with his thoughts.

More laughter travelled down the hallway. Without thinking, he opened the door and walked down the hall and into the store.

On the other side of the room, obscured by shelves, Mila, Rhorton, Aryn, Sero, and Mila and Rhorton’s daughters gathered. None of the group could see Jarne standing at the entry to the hallway.

The scent of hot mulled wine with red wine, citrus, cinnamon, nutmeg, and star anise floated in the air. He inhaled the pleasant, delicious scent, and his mouth watered. Sero handed out mugs.

Rhorton stood by the window, attaching pine cones to the evergreen branches that already hung there. One of the girls called out, and Rhorton lifted her so she could attach a pine cone. Mila offered around a plate of Solstice cookies.

Jarne stood still, watching them and the joy they shared with each other. A yearning grew deep in his gut. A yearning to join them and push the loneliness from his bones.

Had it ever been like this in his own family? Of course not.

Mila kissed Aryn on the forehead. He smiled up at her as he chewed the cookie. Jarne couldn’t imagine his mother kissing him. His mother, who had scoffed at Jarne when he told her how he felt betrayed by Sasha.

Did she even care that Jarne had left?

He almost laughed. Of course she did. Jarne was their most talented perfume alchemist. She would be incredibly upset to have lost him, even for a short time. But he doubted she cared about him beyond his abilities.

The reality was his parents had only started showing interest when Jarne had shown promise as a perfume alchemist. Then they’d been proud. Then they’d cared about him.

But they’d never cared about Aryn. Why should they care about a son who was a terrible perfume alchemist?

Jarne stared at his brother, so happy amongst his new family.

But of course, Jarne had never been kind to Aryn either. Jarne had never thought of how hard it must be for Aryn to be part of a family so obsessed with success and who only valued those talented at perfume alchemy.

No wonder Aryn didn’t want Jarne here. He didn’t want his miserable old life intruding on his new one. No doubt he’d be pleased when Jarne left and they never saw each other again.

And why should Aryn feel anything else? Jarne had spent a lifetime looking down on his brother, ignoring him, and barely acknowledging him. He’d never cared for Aryn. Why should Aryn care for Jarne now?

Jarne deserved Aryn’s anger. His hate. Because just like his parents, Jarne hadn’t loved his brother unconditionally.

Guilt soured inside him. He felt sick.

Sero sat next to Aryn and wrapped an arm around him, laughing at something Aryn said. The love in Sero’s eyes made Jarne want to weep.

Sasha had never looked at Jarne like that. Not even close.

But then again, Jarne doubted he’d ever looked at Sasha like that either. Had he ever loved Sasha? Had they ever been friends?