Page 9 of The Imp Act

CHAPTER NINE

NOELLE

I officially have the crud. There’s some sort of spring flu going around, and it got me. I’m exhausted, irritable, and food is the enemy. Two months ago, I was floating along on cloud nine, happier than I’d ever been, if a little nervous about my feelings for my husband.

Now I feel like shit, I’m overwhelmed by my own success, and I can’t help but notice the clock is ticking on this marriage.

We have less than a month until our divorce. Less than a month until I pack up all my things, find a tiny apartment somewhere, and say goodbye to the man who changed my life. Without his support and encouragement, I never would have been able to launch my line so quickly. I wouldn’t be bombarded with orders and struggling to hire a team to help me. I wouldn’t be searching for office and warehouse space in the city so that I can expand my operations.

The thought of leaving him is gutting, but I’ll keep my end of the deal and set him free. Even though I’m beyond in love with him.

I’ve never been in love before, so I have nothing to compare this feeling to, but what else

could it be? I want to spend time with him, share my accomplishments with him, cheer on his successes. I don’t even mind that his mom doesn’t like me. As long as he does, her opinion doesn’t matter anymore.

Enzo…makes me happy. Happier than I could have ever imagined.

So, yeah, leaving him is gonna suck, but it’s the right thing to do. He only wanted to be

married for a year, just to teach his mom a lesson, so when the time is up, I’ll set him free.

My stomach lurches and I sigh. I hate being sick. A colleague once told me she’d rather

have surgery than throw up, and at the moment, I agree. Nausea is the worst. I grab my laptop and head into the kitchen, where I set it up on the island. I rummage through the fridge until I find a lemon-lime soda. The carbonation will either help settle my stomach or send me running for the toilet.

As I sip, I pull up available apartment listings on the computer. My business may be a success, but all my money is going right back into it. I can’t afford anything fancy or extravagant. In fact, maybe I should consider a roommate.

Enzo strolls in as I’m looking and frowns when he sees the screen. “What are you doing?”

“Browsing available apartments and trying not to barf.”

He makes a sympathetic noise and rubs my shoulders. “Later on, I’ll make you broth and crackers if you want. I’m not the best cook, but I’ll make anything you want, as long as you let me take care of you. But first, I have to know…why in the world are you looking at apartments?”

Out of habit, I look around for Mrs. Grimsby before answering. “Because our arrangement ends next month. I’m gonna need some place to live.”

He frowns again, more deeply this time, and perches on the stool next to mine. “It’s not like you have to move out on exactly the one-year mark, you know. In fact, you don’t have to move out at all.”

I whip my head around and stare at him. “Hold up. What do you mean? I thought we agreed on June.”

He folds his arms across his chest, looking offended. “Jeez, am I that unbearable to live with? I thought things were going well. I had no idea you were in such a hurry to leave.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Why is he picking a fight now? “Enzo, no. I’m not in a hurry. But this is your home and when our arrangement is over, it’s only fair that I give it back to you. Even if I don’t move out on the one-year mark, I still will have to find a place eventually.”

He glowers at me. “It’s our home, not my home. ”

“What is going on with you? Why are you so grumpy? It’s not like I already leased a place. I was just looking. Besides, we both knew this was coming. It’s not exactly a surprise.”

His expression shifts. What had been irritation now just looks…sad. “Don’t you get it?” he asks.

I shake my head. Obviously not.

“Noelle, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to divorce you. I’m so in love with you. Please don’t leave me over some dumb agreement.”

I stare at him, completely at a loss as to how to respond. He loves me? Since when? “You love me?” I finally say, because I’ve been reduced to idiocy.

“Duh. How did you not know that?”

I frown at him. “Um, maybe because you’ve never, ever said it before now?”

“I may not have said the words, but I showed it in a million different ways! I didn’t want to say them and scare you off, but I thought you could tell!”

I run a hand through my hair, upsetting my already messy bun. This is a conversation I wouldn’t be prepared for on my best day, and at the moment, I feel like hot trash. “But…we can’t stay married. That wasn’t the plan.”

I know it’s a weak protest, but it’s the best I have at the moment. I never truly considered staying with him beyond the year mark. Even though I secretly wanted to, I resigned myself long ago to this being a short-term situation. It didn’t really occur to me that we could change it.

“Fuck the plan,” he says, slamming his hand on the counter. “Just tell me one thing. Are you in love with me?” He’s looking at me imploringly, vulnerability shining in his eyes.

This beautiful, wonderful man loves me. Wants to keep me.

I don’t even have to think about how to answer his question. I think I’ve been in love with him all along, even before I recognized what the feeling was. “Yes. Of course I am. How could I not be? You’re too goddamn perfect.”

He smiles, smug as can be. “Then that settles it. I love you. You love me. We stay married. We live here. End of discussion.”

“It very much is not!” I roll my eyes. Ugh, men. Always trying to steamroll women and avoid the tough conversations. “If we’re going to suddenly change everything we agreed on, we need to talk about it.”

“Do we, though? What is there to say? I want to stay married to you. Assuming you want the same thing, nothing in our lives has to change. We can just carry on in wedded bliss.”

“I don’t know…” Actually, I don’t know why I’m protesting or what we need to talk about. It just seems like it should be harder than this, somehow. Shouldn’t it?

He reaches out and places a hand over mine. “Please don’t fight me on this. Trust me. We’re meant to be together. You’re my true mate.”

“Your true mate?” I shoot him a look. Enzo doesn’t have a problem being vulnerable with me, but he’s usually not cheesy. “What a sappy thing to say.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not being lovey-dovey. It’s a real, biological thing for imps. Some of us have people we’re fated to spend our lives with. I’m one of the lucky ones., because I found you.”

“You and I are fated?” I stifle a laugh. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It happened the first night we slept together. This physical… thing happened to me. I got all hot and sweaty and saw flames in my eyes. Believe me, that’s not normal. It only happens when an imp meets their true mate.”

I blink as I try to absorb everything he said. Every time I think I have my head around the conversation, it gets more complicated. “Wait. You’ve believed we were mates since the night we met? And you never mentioned it to me? What the fuck, Enzo?”

He has the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t want to freak you out, or use it to pressure you into something you didn’t want.”

I rest my head in my hands, trying to thwart the pounding that has begun at my temples. A headache, on top of this awful nausea, is the last thing I need.

“Are you okay?”

“No, not really. I feel terrible, and this conversation isn’t helping.”

“Come on,” he says, standing. “Let’s get you to bed. You can lie down while I tell you a story.” As soon as I’m on my feet, he scoops me up, bridal style. As if I weigh nothing, he carries me through the penthouse to our bedroom, and carefully deposits me on the big mattress.

I lean back on the pillows and close my eyes, utterly exhausted.

“My grandparents,” Enzo says in a low, soothing voice, “were the only truly happy imps I ever knew. Obviously, my parents didn’t set a great example of marriage. My mother, being who she is, ran roughshod over my dad at every opportunity. He let her, because it was easier than fighting. And as she clawed her way into the highest echelons of society, she made friends with people exactly like her. Unhappy husbands and wives who were more interested in appearances than happiness.”

“That’s sad,” I murmur, not opening my eyes.

“Mmmhmm.” The mattress shifts as he settles, probably getting his wings out of the way. “But my grandparents weren’t like that. They didn’t care about money or reputation or any of that stuff. They lived in the same small, cozy house for fifty years. My grandmother loved to bake and garden, and my grandfather loved to dote on her. One day, I asked him why they seemed so different from all the other adults I knew.”

“What did he say?” I ask, fighting the sleep that’s trying to overtake me. Though, if I fall asleep, maybe the nausea will pass.

“He said it was because he and my grandmother were true mates. He explained that not every imp has a true mate, and even those who do might not find their other half. It’s quite rare, and rarer still for one partner to be another species. But he described to me the moment he knew, the heat and the flames in his eyes. From that moment, he decided to never let my grandma go, and fortunately for him, she was madly in love with him too. He wanted the same for his children and grandchildren, but it didn’t work out for any of them…until me.”

I start to reply, to tell him what a beautiful story that is, when my stomach finally revolts. I bolt out of bed and make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up the soda and a bunch of bile. Ugh.

Miserable, I starfish on the cool tile and wait for my stomach to settle. I can’t remember the last time I felt this awful. What the hell is wrong with me?

Enzo appears with a pillow and tucks it under my head. “Anything I can do?”

“Yes. Shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

He chuckles. “Not a chance, my love.”

“Will you do me a real favor, though, and bring me my phone?” A horrifying thought has occurred to me, and I need to check something right away for my peace of mind.

After he brings it to me, I swipe open my calendar app and begin doing calculations. “Oh, no. Oh, noooo. No, no, no,” I chant.

Enzo slides to the floor next to me, leaning against the wall. He looks as agitated as I feel. “What? What’s wrong?”

I clap a palm to my forehead. I can’t believe I was this oblivious. This is the kind of dumb thing that happens to women in movies, not real life. I pass Enzo my phone. “Look at that. I haven’t had a period in two months. No wonder I’m sick as hell.”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. It’s almost comical.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I need to take a pregnancy test, like yesterday.”

“Are you serious?”

I goggle at him. “Of course, I’m serious. You’re looking at the evidence, in the form of two missed periods and a barfy wife.” I take my phone back and order three pregnancy tests from the closest drugstore that does same-day delivery.

When I’m done, I glance back at Enzo, who has regained the power of motion. Now he has the biggest grin on his face I’ve ever seen. He looks positively chipper.

“What?”

“You might be pregnant! We could have a baby. Maybe lots of babies. This is the best day ever.” He can’t stop smiling, which makes me smile.

“Enzo, I’ve never seen you this giddy. You’re excited about the idea of kids?” We’ve never talked about this. I had no idea how I would feel about it, much less what he would think.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been this giddy. I love kids. I love the idea of kids with you . I love you. I want a family with you. I want to stay married. I want it all.”

God, this is scary. But everything he’s saying is resonating with me, and I realize some of the trepidation I felt earlier was just that. Trepidation. Fear. And probably a shit-ton of hormones fucking with me. I reach over and grab his hand. “I’m scared. But I want that too.”

We’re still sitting there, smiling at each other stupidly, when Mrs. Grimsby knocks on the bedroom door. “Delivery for you, Mrs. Rossetti.”

Enzo stands and retrieves the shopping bag, then brings it to me.

“Go wait in the bedroom,” I tell him. Once he’s gone and the door is shut, I open the tests and carefully follow the instructions. I know they’re supposed to be more accurate if you take them in the morning, but fuck it. I’ll take more if I have to. But right now, I need to know what these say.

After the interminable wait, I flip over each test. They all say the same thing. I scoop them up and go into the bedroom, where Enzo is pacing. He stops as soon as I walk in.

“Well?”

I hand him the sticks. “See for yourself, Dad.”

He grabs them and verifies the positive results, then swings me around in a hug. “I knew the moment I met you, you were special. You’re my mate, my wife, and the mother of my child. Stick with me and I’ll show you a good life.”

I give him a smacking kiss. “You got yourself a deal. There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

I point to the tests he’s holding. “Who’s going to tell your mother?”

He meets my gaze and we both dissolve into laughter.

THE END