I landed in my hometown with my two suitcases in each hand and my heels planted on the damp floor.
“Welcome home.” Luna gestured demonstratively as if the landscape in front of me was a work of art. “As you can see, that hasn’t changed. The next store is a fifteen-minute walk away, and the six neighbors are still the same but older and nosier.”
I winced, seeing the horror in front of me. The neighbors were already attached to their cottage window, spying on my arrival as if a black and involute shadow was crashing on the city. I was back for Luna and nothing else.
“The little Aurore,” an old couple intercepted us. Two of my high school teachers—of course they’d remember me; we were no more than a hundred students in the whole school. “It’s been a long time. You’ve certainly become a young woman. Very…”
The two stared at me with a lack of adjectives to describe me, and I crossed my arms, wondering if they’d find at least one compliment. Luna sighed, and the traitor went inside, letting me deal with them.
“Certainly different,” the old math teacher finished, and I felt like a theorem that he didn’t have the answer to.
“What did you become? Do you have children?” My former English literature teacher gave me a benevolent smile.
“Nope.”
“A husband?” the old man wondered.
“Neither.”
Through their eyes, I could tell they thought of me as an old spinster.
“Depression?” She wanted to grab my hand with a pitying look. “With everything that happened to your family and—”
“Oh no. I’m fine.” I bit my inner lip; I had to get rid of them ASAP. “I’m an author now, and I know you always told me it wasn’t a stable job and I should focus on my studies, but here I am.”
She did not react to my sentence. “Your mother told us you’re going to move here for good?”
What? Me, end up in this rat hole? “What?”
“We all thought that with what happened to your sister, you should watch over your family. Poor you, to be abandoned cowardly by your father, and your poor mother, who had seen nothing—”
“You don’t know anything about us.” Only unfounded gossip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go join my family.”
“You should have worn something other than heels. It’s not practical.” Look who had the science infused—the math teacher.
I towed my suitcase like a rugby player in a scrum. “Yes, well, you should have made roads. We are in the twenty-first century, after all!”
“Oh no, roads!” I heard them whispering behind my back. “It’s going to hide our beautiful landscape and heritage.”
The bad girl in town just came back. Hide your children and prepare your pitchforks.
I was mentally prepared to spend my days at home like a vampire in the dark, writing and editing like an old sorceress who had gone mad.
I went through the door of my house and released a deep breath. The only one in front of the door to greet me was Duchess purring at my feet, who I scooped into my arms. My mother was busy doing some… pottery. She had a huge smile on her face, and she waved at me in the midst of her mess, taking off her goggles, which I assumed were to prevent splashes.
“There is my talented bestselling author! You look… white. You should take in the sun—it’s good for your mood! Coming back here will do you good, you’ll see.”
“I’m writing all day.”
“Someone is grumpy,” she teased me while chuckling.
Coming back here, in this room where I had so many memories with my father and my sister, wrung my heart. It belonged to the past, where I had buried a part of me. I was different now, and this place was suffocating me.
“Something wrong, honey? I smell bad energy over here,” my mother asked, ready to dig out her purifying incense. The shape of her pottery vase was taking a weird form—more like a penis than an amphora, but hey, everyone sees what they want.
“Why didn’t you break up with Dad when he first cheated on you?” I dropped bluntly, not expecting to have this talk right away with my mother. “You were hoping he’d change?”
“No, I did it for you girls.” She stopped spinning her pottery, wiping her hands on the rag. “I did it so you could have a happy childhood. I wanted to protect you so you wouldn’t miss anything. He was a good father, and he was financially supporting us. You were both so happy, and I wanted you to believe in love.”
“But at what price.” I took a seat in front of her. “Luna almost died because of the lies, and you always rely on me for everything now. And in the end, you got hurt—we all got hurt. You should have ended things with him, and we would have managed. You wouldn’t have wanted either of us to stay in a relationship where we sob at night on our pillowcases. You deserved your happy ending, and we deserved the truth.”
“Perhaps, but I—I’ve found it. I have the both of you, a nice house, a town I love, and I met someone…” She chuckled like some teenager in love. “He’s a carpenter. We met online through the bee sanctuary you helped me build, and you’ll see he’s great. He lost his wife, but he believes in love too, just like I do.”
At least I was Cupid, and she seemed happy, but why couldn’t I be too? I had accomplished my goal, what I’d have sold my soul for, and here I was, grumpy and still with an aching, unsatisfied heart. “Then, I’m happy for you.”
“I know I put a lot of pressure on you these past few years, but I—” She reached for my hand. “You’re here now, in this town you love, and you have a book deal. It’s everything you ever wanted. So smile and open your heart. Everything will be just like before.”
“Perhaps this is not the happy ending I want,” I said, more to myself than to her. “I mean, I don’t think you realized the pressure I had on my shoulders for years. I had to earn money for you, for Luna, for me. I had to survive, to struggle every day, and maybe I grew cynical, but you don’t know how it feels that I couldn’t fail, or else you were all coming down with me. I was all alone, and yet, I had to pretend everything was great because you were counting on me. I was the parent, and now, I’m exhausted. I can’t breathe in this town, even though I arrived just a minute ago, and you’re already settling for me to spend the rest of my life here. I love you, and I love Luna, but compared to you two, the sunshine believers, I’m the antihero who is constantly fighting to win over her happiness.”
At the end of my monologue, I took a deep breath. I had never said out loud how I felt, and now that I had started, I couldn’t stop. It felt like the weight I’d been carrying for so many years had finally dropped down my shoulders.
“I didn’t realize.” My mother seemed disoriented by the news, pinching her lips shut and her pupils flaring. “You never talked to us about how you felt. You said you were happy.”
“Because I made the same mistake you did with us—by pretending, to protect you.”
“I’m sorry. I would have never—”
“I know,” I cut her off. “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. I just feel like I lost my happy ending along the way, and I’m sad.”
Ajax. The thought of his name alone would either make me flush, lose a heartbeat, or well up my eyes with tears. I had fallen in love with a man who had to leave, and now that he was gone, I was lonely. No achievements could possibly fill that void. I blinked away those thoughts. It wasn’t in my personality to give up or mope about my fate.
“If there is one person who deserves to be happy, it’s you. You always give and never ask. It’s not too late. I shouldn’t have implied you were coming back home for good. It’s your life.”
“I have Luna to take care of.” I swallowed. “And afterwards, I will advise what I will do.”
“And like you said, I’m her mother and—” The doorbell rang, and upstairs, I heard something tumble—probably Luna making a din. “Be there as a sister. She’s doing great.”
Luna sprinted down the stairs with lipgloss and a pinkish girly outfit on. “I got it!”
“Who is it?” I tipped the chair back, wanting to see who was coming.
“It’s Ryan!” Luna jumped, and once near the door, she sighed before opening it with a sharp blow.
“Hi.” The boy cleared his throat the moment he saw that the whole family was spying on him.
“Hi,” Luna said back, hiding us from his vision with the door. Look at her, embarrassed, shooting us nothing more than a glance. “I’ll be back home soon.”
The boy handed her something that made her giggle. “This is for you.”
“Thank you. I like gifts,” Luna being Luna replied and slammed the door shut.
I found myself smiling, no longer feeling nauseated by the display of cuteness. I didn’t even roll my eyes while I caressed Duchess, who had jumped on my lap.
“See? She’s the main character of her own life. You, on the contrary, you’re putting yourself second.” My mother went back to her pottery and continued her vase—or, more accurately, her penis vase.
I gave her a kiss on the cheek before taking my things upstairs. “I’ll settle and get some writing done.”
“I think my vase is oddly shaped, but it reminds me of something,” my mother muttered.
“It looks like a penis, Mom,” I informed her through the bars of the stairs.
The clay penis in question at that exact moment split in two, my mother’s eyes widening on me.
Welcome home.
After all, what’s a villain but the hero who got denied her happy ending?
“Your wicked fairy godmother.” My eyes settled on my phone with the certainty that I had written the acknowledgments during my walk in the middle of nowhere. I saved my novel, Nevermore, or rather the draft entitled “Draft67,” on the drive. I was finally, utterly, completely done with it, and I tapped a quick email to my editor at Ever After. This morning, I even received the cover, which I had sent directly to Ajax for his point of view.
“Fuck!”
By having my gaze resting on my phone for so long, I didn’t notice I had come across a tree branch that slapped me in the face. I had gone off the road. Again. I took off my lilac headphones, and the classical music left my ears—a habit I’d picked up from Spectre.
“I’m going to end up being lost by wanting to take a walk to breathe the fresh air,” I grumbled for my fairy creatures to hear, but with my luck, I might as well attract a boar that was going to chase me or a poisonous snake.
I looked on Maps for a way to get home when I received a message from Ajax.
Ajax: I haven’t read the last chapter. I don’t want to know how the story ends yet. But the cover you sent me is hideous.
I laughed, tapping faster on my phone, scrambling to get out of the weeds in my sports tennis skirt. It was true that it wasn’t centered and that the color wheel palette wasn’t taken into account, but it still wasn’t that hideous.
Me: Hideous? Wow, thanks.
Ajax: Hideous.
At least he was dead set and left no room for debate. Point taken.
Ajax: That’s why I made you another one.
He sent over the cover he had made in the form of digital art. It was breathtaking. The cover was in a lavender tone, with a gloomy castle in the back and our two main characters in front, face-to-face, like an enemies-to-lovers trope, thorns surrounding them like an evil spell cast upon them.
Me: You’re a cinnamon roll.
Ajax: That thing you eat?
Me: No, the character. It means you’re adorable. Too good for this world. A badass cutie.
Ajax: I thought I was the grumpy austere kind?
I had to laugh, imagining Ajax’s perplexed face.
Me: Oh you definitely are, but I unmasked your true nature.
Me: And about the cover, the one you did is incredible! If your artistic career doesn’t work anymore, you know what to do next.
Ajax: In all honesty, my artistic career sucks without you.
My heartbeat quickened. I’d followed every news story about Spectre like the good, trained spy that I was. Since the revelation of his identity, there were two camps that were exposed: one where the TV and the exhibitions craved his paintings and for his backstory to be told, the other camp filled with jealousy, ready to do anything to discredit him. But above all, Spectre’s exhibitions to come were all announced complete, with a dozen new paintings. He was invited to gallery openings and to collaborate with prestigious brands. He did it.
Me: It sucks without you too, but I’m informed of everything you accomplish. You’re doing great, Ajax.
Ajax: It’s exhausting to talk to all of these people.
He attached a selfie, which made my jaw and that of the crows around me drop. He was at some ridiculously fancy event, with his three-piece tailored suit, clean-shaven jaw, and tenebrous eyes. I would definitely save that picture.
Me: By talk, you mean brood in your corner, appearing busy by texting me and interacting at best with a head nod with anyone striking a conversation with you?
Ajax: Obviously.
I sent a selfie back in the middle of my forest with some kind of smile, mostly looking like a madwoman who had just escaped from prison wearing a schoolgirl sports uniform.
Ajax: Is that your fairyland? I want to steal you from it. I need you armed with your hair bow and killer eyes to get me the fuck out of here.
Me: I need your deadly scowl to scare everyone away.
Ajax: Deal.
With this promise, I had only one desire. It was to be at his side. I had become the pathetic character I used to despise.
Me: Is it everything you hoped for?
Ajax: It’s what I expected. I shake hands. Make money. Paint commission. Go to boring events. Sign contracts. And practice my deadly scowl. How is it back home?
Me: You’d expect me to talk with birds and dance as I’m going to the farmer’s market, but I’m usually staying in my fortress like a vampire.
Ajax: You should be smiling, Aurore. Every day you should be happy.
Ajax: Every day I think of you.
I bit my lip, my fingers finding it impossible to reply for some reason, because it hurt too much. There was so much keeping us apart before that now, I was hoping this was real. We could be together. We acted as if we were, but we weren’t. We were both on opposite sides of the world, on a mission of our own. And I was afraid. Afraid his messages would stop. Afraid he’d grow distant over time. And mostly, I was afraid the dream we had would end, because he was my happy ending.
Ajax: Every day I will.
At that moment, I felt really lost.
