Page 46 of Unraveling Fate

“What exactly do you think you’re playing at with Cadenza?” Drostan asked.

Taran flinched. He should’ve seen that coming. He and Cadenza had spent every evening together since Canon’s proposal four days ago. She’d kissed him that night and plenty since. This evening they’d walked the trail to the back fence and then talked in her apartment until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. When he said goodnight, he’d asked once more where she would go if she could go anywhere. She’d pulled himback down to the couch, laid her head on his chest, murmured, “The ocean,” and fallen asleep. Taran had stayed and held her for a few hours.

He couldn’t stay all night of course. That’d be awkward come sunrise.

When he slipped out of her arms, she woke enough to capture his face between her hands and kiss him again.

She tasted like caramel.

Taran leaned back in the dry grass and closed his eyes, remembering.

“That!” Drostan said. “That look right there, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing.” Taran leapt to his feet and launched another rock. Every time he was around Cadenza, every time she touched him was like running full tilt under a bright moon.

The rock scribed an arc in front of the stars and hit a stand of oaks. A great horned owl flapped out of the trees, hooting its irritation. He watched its flight, noting the markings down its back. It was the same owl he’d seen with Cadenza the first time he’d run into her at the bridge. It must have a nest here in the field.

Taran allowed himself a smirk. Could pretty-sales-boy see in the dark like that? Didn’t think so.

“If you’re not playing, I’d like to know what you think you are doing.” Drostan stood and shook his head. “She’s leaving this place. Going to sing in Italy. She’s wanted out of this town since she was a wee thing, Taran. She’s not staying. And you”—he jabbed a finger into Taran’s chest—“can’t leave.”

A growl rumbled in Taran’s chest and his nostrils flared. Like he needed the reminder. Anger vibrated through his legs and the earth beneath him groaned.

Drostan held out a hand. “Steady, son.”

Taran took a deep breath and pulled the tremors back. He knew he shouldn’t care about Cadenza the way he did, and when she needed to leave, he wouldn’t ask her to stay. But she pulled on him like the moon on the tide. He had so few choices left to him. Whatever time she granted him, he chose to accept it.

Twelve

9 Sep 2019

7 Days. One week. 168 hours. I just need the car to sell.

Afaint banjo tune emanated from the wooden steps where Cadenza waited for Reyna. The smith’s apartment was the upper floor of a house in Columbia from the 1890s, with an outside staircase for access. Rehearsal should have started half an hour ago, but her duet partner wasn’t home and wasn’t answering her texts.

Cadenza’s brows pulled together. Reyna didn’t strike her as the type to be late. She was debating whether or not it would be weird to try calling when Reyna’s jeep pulled up next to Cadenza’s sedan and the blacksmith jumped out, apologizing.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Are you ok?” Cadenza asked.

“Yeah. I just had to dump Noah, and it took a little longer than I expected. I should’ve let you know I was running late though.” She let them into the apartment and tossed her bag aside in the entryway.

“Wait, you dumped Noah? What happened? Are you ok?”

Reyna crossed to the piano in the living room and set up her music. “I’m fine. He had his chance, he blew it. Shall we warm up?”

Cadenza stared at her. “You’re fine? I thought you liked him. Do you need a hug or anything? What did he do?”

“He screwed up,” Reyna said. “He told me he’d do something and then he didn’t do it. So he’s out. A guy gets one shot with me and if he blows it, I’m done.”

“Wow. No ‘sorrys’ or anything?”

“Nah,” Reyna said as she played through a couple of scales on the piano. “I’m through with apologies from men.”

“But nobody’s perfect. Everyone’s going to mess up at some point.” Cadenza opened her binder doubtfully, unconvinced that Reyna wouldn’t want at least a modicum of consolation.

“Well, I haven’t found a boy yet who I felt like sticking around for after he messed up. As soon as a guy breaks my trust, whatever crush I had on him is gone.” She snapped her fingers.