The mention of Chelsea’s name twists the knife still buried inside me. I inhale sharply through my nose. “Oh…yeah?”
“Yeah, there’s a lady in my building who needs a little help. She’s getting older and doesn’t have any family around here. Chelsea’s been worried she might have to transfer her to a nursing home or contact the county… but when I told her I used to be a PCA, she did a little digging and helped get everything in place,” he says.
“That’s great—” I say, trying to muster as much excitement about it as I can.
“It’s not a be-all, end-all or anything. But at least it buys me some time. Especially since my dad isn’t likely to change his mind anytime soon,” Wade says, rolling his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I say, walking to the oven and clicking on the light. I bend in to take a look at the pizza’s progress. So far, my half looks nearly done, but the other half looks like it needs another twenty minutes to heat through.
“You know, our assets,” Wade says, shrugging nonchalantly.
I stand up, unable to disentangle my eyebrows from one another. “Huh?”
Wade rolls his eyes, as if this is the last thing he wanted to be thinking about. “Just family money and stuff.”
The timer on the oven beeps and he steps up, ushering me to step aside.
My mind whirls, taking in this new information. When we were back in the catacombs, I remember the two of them talking about the family assets… but I thought his dad meant their powers.
Wade slices up the pizza, spreading the pieces out evenly on the plates. “Dinner is served,” he says, with a hand flourish.
I blink from him to the plates, absently grabbing one for myself. “I thought… I thought you didn’t have any inheritance. I’m confused.”
Grabbing his own plate, Wade holds out his other arm in an offering for me to grab it.
I blink hard, but interlock my arm in his.
“It’s complicated. The inheritance is magically bound. When my grandpa died, as next in line I should have been given access to our assets. But…” his voice trails off as he leads me from the kitchen. We loop through the main entrance and down the hallway to my bedroom.
“But…he’s denying you,” I say, beginning to understand the full scope of things, “because of me.”
Wade shrugs as if it doesn’t bother him in the least. “It’s just money.”
“But—what about your tuition? Your life? You’ve been so worried about finances…why would you turn that away?” I sputter.
“I can’t believe you’re even asking me that,” he says indignantly.
I shake my head, trying to understand why he’d turn down an easier life—one without financial struggles—just to be with me. It’s ludicrous.
He deserves so much more. I can’t let him give up his entire inheritance just to be with me.
We reach my bedroom door and Wade drops my arm to reach for the handle.
“Wade,” I whisper, unable to look him in the eye. I stare at my plate, tears welling up behind my lids. “I think we should break up.”
I look up just in time to see his bright face falter. His hand drops from the door handle in slow motion and as it creaks open, I turn to face the room. Red roses or their petals cover every conceivable surface of my bedroom. Red candles flicker romantically, sending a powerful surge of regret through me.
“Happy”—his voice is barely a whisper as he swallows hard, trying to recover—“one-year anniversary.”
Chapter 2
What’s Fate Got to Do With It?
Everything is upside down.
I hadn’t anticipated this empty, horrible hole that’s settled inside my torso. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I can’t escape the memory of utter despair on Wade’s face. His sad, silver eyes are burned into my mind, and no matter what I do, I can’t erase his expression. From the moment I broke things off with him, all I wanted was to take it back. To rewind time and erase the whole thing. But I couldn’t make my brain align with my heart. I need to protect him…I need for him to forget about me.
Hell, I need to find a way to forget about him.
Yet, everywhere I go… he’s there.
My eyes flit to the edge of his gorgeous face, just two seats up in the row beside me. The sunlight cascades through the window and highlights the edges of his face. It illuminates the tips of his dark eyelashes, drawing my attention back with every blink.
If I thought starting the new school year would give us the opportunity for space, I certainly hadn’t considered just how much our paths are intertwined. He’s in every single one of my classes, with the exception of one—Resurrection Theory.
It’s a daily kind of torture, and one of my own making.
Glancing down at my notebook, I scribble in circles, not taking in a thing Mrs. Clement is telling the class. Her voice drones on in the background, but as fascinating as life and death entities should be, I can’t muster the focus to listen about guardians, Lemures, the Four Horsemen, or fate.
Fate can suck it, if you ask me.
Without warning, the person behind me kicks my chair, making me jump. I look up to find a classroom full of expectant eyes all trained on me.
“I, uh—” I stutter, shifting my gaze around the room. Briefly, I stop at Wade, but as soon as our eyes connect, my insides flip and the room spins. Quickly, I return my gaze to the teacher. “What was the question?”
“Ms. Blackwood, I know it’s early in the semester, but I’d sure appreciate it if you’d pay a bit more attention,” Mrs. Clement says, raising a white eyebrow over the rim of her red-framed glasses. Her piercing, ice-blue eyes slice right through me and I sit up a bit straighter. “There’s a lot to cover and you, of all people, would do well to learn the lessons coming through
