Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)(43)

“I’ve missed this, Lins,” I said, tilting my head back to squint up at the sun. “Just talking with you. And all the dumb stuff we used to pull together, thinking we were such hot shit. Remember when we went swimming in the water tower à la the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, like that was ever gonna end well?”

“And then our hard cider buzz wore off, and we both remembered how we felt about heights. Poor Rowan had to come grow us a rescue vine.” She breathed out a laugh, shaking her head. “We were so ridiculous.”

“But in the best way, right? I really have missed us, Lin. I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?” Linden said, in such a quietly wounded tone that my head snapped up, my heart suddenly tripping over itself. “Because I’ve tried so hard, Em, so hard to keep us together. To keep us friends. And sometimes it seems like you want that, too, and I feel like I still have you, like we’re still us. But then other times . . .” She shook her head, the corners of her mouth drawing down. “You feel so far away. Like if we never saw each other again, you might be totally okay with it.”

I stayed silent for a moment, a burst of pain blooming in my chest like a sharp-edged star, so gutted I didn’t even know where to begin. I’d had no idea Linden felt this way.

Or maybe it was more that I’d thought she and I were on the same page, when it came to slowly letting each other go.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered finally. “Lin, really, I . . .”

“You know, I honestly didn’t think you were ever coming back,” she cut me off, tears thick in her voice. “That’s why the thing with Gareth even stood a chance. I’d never have looked at him twice, otherwise, but I thought you were over Thistle Grove for good. Done with this place, done with . . . with me. And that blows, Emmy. It . . . it truly fucking blows, on top of everything else, to feel like my best friend in the world had disappeared on me.”

At that, she started crying in earnest, fat tears sliding in hitching trails down her face.

I’d heard Linden curse with her whole chest like that maybe two other times in my life, and only when driven to the most emotional extremes. Hearing it, and seeing those terrible tears, made me feel like my heart was cracking open like a geode. Breaking down a hidden fault line into two hunks of saw-toothed stone. It made me feel not just ashamed, but like I was even worse than Gareth, somehow, in my own special, garbage way.

While I spun in place like a broken compass needle, Jasper whined, nosing Linden’s knee. She set a palm on his head, hiding her face behind her other hand as she cried.

My standard schnauzer was apparently a better person than me, a dismal truth that just about summed up this entire mess I’d made.

“Lin,” I started, helplessly. She shook her head, her spine tense as a drawn bow and shoulders quivering as she cried into her palm.

So I did the only thing I knew to do, the only thing I’d ever done when something threatened to drive a wedge between us. Even though this time, the wedge was me.

I reached for her.

For a moment, she held herself apart like I’d been afraid she would, and I felt a yawning fear at the possibility that I’d lost her, like standing at the edge of a precipice with miles of empty air gaping below my toes. It had been so foolish of me, so short-sighted and selfish and borderline cruel, to think that just because I’d excised this town from my heart, I could live without her, too. How could I have thought that, when Linden Thorn was such an essential part of me, the two of us braided into each other like trees grafted together when they were only saplings?

How could I ever have considered cutting myself away from her?

After what felt like an eternity, she finally relaxed enough to hug me back. Still tentative and wary, but with a quavering sigh that sounded like coming home after a long and draining day.

I could barely contain the relief that galloped through me as I held her. There was still a chance to fix this, then. A slim chance, even a vanishing one, but still too precious to let slip through my fingers.

I was not fucking this up again.

“I love you so much, Linden Sharee Thorn,” I whispered into her hair, feeling wildly lucky, fortunate beyond belief, that my best friend was so generous. “Forever. I can’t even imagine myself without you. I’m never, ever going to disappear on you again, I promise. And Lins, for what it’s worth . . . I’m so sorry that I suck.”

“You do,” she said, so vehemently that both of us cracked up, laughing against each other. “But seeing as we’ll always have the water tower . . . I guess I’ll accept a do-over.”





15





The Candle


I went to bed early that night; I was meeting Talia and Linden for Gauntlet lore research at Tomes first thing. But I lay wide awake for hours, unable to stop mulling over my afternoon with Lin. Though she and I hadn’t exactly reconciled, the tension between us had broken like oppressive heat extinguished by a long-overdue downpour—leaving behind a relief so heady it felt a little like new love.

I had my best friend back, and this time I wasn’t ever letting go.

When I did finally manage to drift off, I wasn’t sure what drove me from sleep. But as I came swimming up to the surface, my breath short and heart hammering, I reached out reflexively toward the candle on my nightstand and sent out a little tongue of magic to light it. The flame caught easily, without hesitation.