Page 88 of Bring Me Your Midnight

Ivy looks at me as if I’m breaking her heart, but I can’t help the way his sweater trembles in my hands, the way I hold on to it as if it’s my whole world, the sun and moon and stars.

I shove my face into the fabric, hiding from Ivy and her memory eraser, my entire body shaking.

Then, ever so slowly, Ivy pulls the sweater away from me.

And ever so slowly, I let her.

I’m downstairs with my parents when Ivy returns with a colorful tea tin. She doesn’t say a word, just walks to the kitchen and begins preparing the drink. My parents give each other a meaningful look as I watch Ivy’s back.

“Tana, just a reminder that Landon and his parents will be joining us on Wednesday to discuss wedding preparations. They’re very eager to see you again,” my mother says.

I’m not sure why she’s bringing this up now, but I nod anyway. “I haven’t forgotten.”

The words hang in the air between us, illuminating the magic Ivy laced into her tea. She scoops the leaves into a ceramic pot, the sound impossibly loud, screaming Wolfe’s name. And suddenly I’m terrified of forgetting him.

I want to believe there are some things that are stronger than magic, that Ivy’s tea will be worthless, nothing compared to the bond I have with him. I want to believe I can drink Ivy’s tea and that Wolfe will still linger, hidden in the corners and alleys of my mind until I’m ready to remember.

I want to believe.

The kettle whistles and I jump. Ivy pours the boiling water over the tea leaves, and steam rises into the air. She sets a timer and lets the leaves steep, making sure every drop of magic makes it into the teacup.

Makes it into me.

Images of Wolfe flood my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate for them to leave. Desperate for them to stay.

What should scare you most about tonight isn’t that you’re about to use high magic, Mortana. What should scare you most is that you’re going to want to use it again.

My mother says something about our upcoming dinner, but I don’t hear the words. I barely notice Ivy in the kitchen or my dad watching me with sadness and concern. All I see is the life I fought so hard for slipping through my fingers like grains of sand, impossible to hold.

Do you want to see me again?

Yes.

The timer goes off, and Ivy strains the tea. My parents are quiet, and my stomach twists itself into knots, tighter and tighter, suffocating my insides.

Ihateyou. And I want you anyway.

I think of the memory keeper I made for Wolfe, how self-conscious I was when I gave it to him. But I’m so glad I did, so glad that memory will linger somewhere outside of my mind, somewhere it will be safe and cared for.

Speak it out loud. I want to hear you.

Ivy puts the teacup on a saucer and brings it over. It clatters against the marble counter when she sets it down in front of me. The liquid is deep amber, the color of the fire reflecting off the walls of his room.

There is a life for you here, a life where you can be everything you’re afraid of being.

I gently pick up the teacup and raise it to my mouth. It trembles in my hand. My parents and Ivy watch me, holding their breath, waiting. If this is the right thing, why does my dad look devastated and Ivy look unsure? Why does my chest feel like it’s being torn open?

I would set the world on fire just to see your face.

The tea smells earthy and floral. I breathe deeply and pick up subtle notes of woodsmoke and salt. My eyes fill with tears because it smells like him, just like him, and for a moment I don’t think I can do this.

It was easy to use you, and damn near impossible not to fall in love with you.

Maybe there’s an alternate universe where my coven isn’t depending on me for survival. Maybe there’s an alternate universe where my wild heart is free to take refuge in Wolfe, to love him as deeply as a person can love.

The thought almost makes me smile, this desperate hope that there’s a version of ourselves loving each other, loving and loving and loving to the ends of the Earth.

You saved my life.