Page 55 of Ever After

My heart’s beating fast, but there’s no warmth in my body. I’m reluctant to face the man I love, and I’ve never felt this before.

We get mad on occasion. Of course we do. But after a few loud words, we quickly make up. Levi’s always understood my deep dislike of the silent treatment or cold shoulder. Feeling invisible or worthless is something I’ve battled my entire life. So his straightforward nature means everything to me. He says his piece and then moves on. He’s not one for moods.

I reach out and touch the door handle, and then pull my hand back and rub at my clenched jaw. What if he’s still in a shitty mood? What then?

I roll my eyes. The better question is why I’m standing here like a bellend hesitating to see my own fucking husband. I push the door open, my gaze automatically going to Levi.

He’s still lying on the sofa with the diary in one hand, but he now has his sketchbook over his lap, and he’s making notes with his other hand. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t even seem to be aware that I’m in the same room.

“Le—” I stop and clear my throat. “Levi?” It comes out louder than I intended, and he jumps, dropping the book and scattering the pages.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” I say quickly, crouching to pick up the diary.

He snatches it off me, cradling it to his chest. I carry on talking to cover the awkward moment. “I wanted to see if you were up for a trip out?”

“It’s raining,” he snaps. He opens the diary and begins reading again.

I kneel to gather up the pages. They’re covered in Levi’s familiar scrawled writing. I cock my head. He seems to have been copying out passages from the diary.

“You’ve been busy,” I say. I’m reading a sentence about a shipwreck when the page is snatched from me, swift and sharp enough to give me a paper cut. “What the fuck?” I jerk my thumb to my mouth for a moment, easing the sting. “You’re starting to piss me off, Levi,” I warn him. “I was only trying to help.”

“Sorry,” he says, offering me an apologetic face. “It’s just that…”

“What?” I ask. “Is it your head?”

“A bit. It just aches.”

“Maybe we should go to the hospital, then.”

“I’m fine.” He offers me one of his wry, charming smiles, but it doesn’t sit right on his face. It’s like he’s trying on the expression like a fancy-dress costume. “Sorry I’m being snappy.”

“It’s okay,” I say instantly, and it is. The first bad mood in all these years isn’t exactly something terrible. I smile more easily at him. “Shall we go out for an hour or so?” I say coaxingly. “We could go and have lunch somewhere.” I waggle my eyebrows. “And then come back and wreck the bed. I made it this morning, which makes destroying it even more fun.”

I’m expecting him to flirt back which is why the chilly expression that comes over his face is so hurtful.

“No,” he says coldly. “I want to read this.”

“Levi, please.” I hate the pleading note in my voice. I spent a lot of my childhood begging for attention from my mum. I don’t want to do it with Levi. “What’s the matter?”

I search his face, recalling what’s happened since we went to bed last night. He seemed out of sorts in the bath, but his mood really changed when I mentioned working.

Is he upset because of Branok? Is the idea of helping him ruining the honeymoon and he didn’t want to tell me? I think of the spiders and the warning I was given by the man on the beach. Has Levi witnessed some kind of haunting while I was asleep?

His body is very still but I get the sense that his mind is running fiercely. “Yes,” he finally says. “I’m growing tired of it, Blue.”

I blink. “You’re sick of what?”

“I grow tired of the constant interruptions to our time here.”

How did he know I was thinking that very thing? I frown. I must have said it out loud. Then what he’s said sinks in.

“I knew it. I’m so sorry. I hate that we can’t even have our honeymoon without ghost interference. You know I don’t want that, but I can’t exactly avoid it. These gifts don’t come with a clocking out card.”

“Gifts?” he says thoughtfully. “You mean being psychic, yes?”

“Of course. What else would I mean?”

“Ah.” He shoots me another look that’s totally unlike him. It’s hostile and almost calculating. “I suppose you can’t help it, but it’s still annoying. For once, I’d like a normal experience in life without you making it all about you.”