Page 84 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

I turned as graciously as one who’d just made a huge scene could. I swore I saw a flash of black pigtails behind one of the bookshelves, but right now I couldn’t focus on Fiona and whether she was here, eavesdropping as usual.

I had to get out of this place before I completely lost it.

Once I was in the hallway, I pressed my back to the wall and let out a sob, then clapped my hand over my mouth, hoping no one had heard.

One thing had become abundantly clear. I had to stop whatever this was with Nevan. We could keep up our deal but nothing else. I’d let our physical relationship affect me far more than I’d admitted to myself, and I couldn’t do it anymore.

I’d tell him tomorrow after this family dinner I promised I’d go to, which I was now cursing myself for.

And then I’d be alone again.

All alone. Exactly how I was meant to be.

CHAPTER 33

Nevan

Something was wrong. Enid sat by my side at my mother’s cottage, back straight, barely looking in my direction.

Throughout the night, I’d wondered if nerves were affecting her, and I’d tried to put my hand on her back, lay it on her knee, grab her hand, anything to let her know I was here with her. But every time I’d tried, she’d jerked away, so I’d stopped any attempts to touch her.

Everyone sat around the round table between the kitchen area and the living room. The bags under Cillian’s eyes were only getting more prominent, and I wondered what was going on with my younger brother. He looked more stressed than usual, not his charming self. Wolfe sat next to him, gnawing on his chicken leg, and Niamh sat next to Wolfe, staring at Enid with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

Maybe something had happened at the book club last night. I needed to find out if Niamh knew something, and suddenly, I was kicking myself for not being more present with Enid over the last few weeks.

I’d been so busy with these stupid house calls, many of which she’d joined me on. But we couldn’t exactly talk during appointments where we had a patient to focus on. And the time we had spent together was mostly doing other things with our mouths.

“So Enid,” Mother said, “I hear you’ve been shadowing Nevan, learning more about healing?”

Enid swallowed her bite of food. “Yes, Nevan is a really good teacher.” She gave me a soft smile that I couldn’t help but notice was full of sadness.

“She’s been a great student and a quick learner,” I said, an ominous feeling settling over me.

“Is healing something you’re interested in?” Mother asked.

Father reached out and laid his hand over hers.

After all these years, they still loved each other so much. pain hit me then, along with the realization that maybe I’d never have that. I looked over at Enid. Or maybe I already did.

“No,” Enid said quickly. “I’m not a healer.”

“Really?” I glanced at her, surprised. I’d figured she was shadowing me so much, reading all these books, helping me create new potions, because she was interested in the possibility of it.

Enid gave a small shrug. “I’m clearly not cut out for saving people.” Her voice was terse and short.

“I think you’d make a wonderful healer,” Niamh said. “Ms. Carragh is still raving about your house call.”

Enid stared at her plate. “I didn’t even do anything. Nevan is the one who stitched her up.”

“Using your spindles,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “It turns out there are a lot of plants with healing properties in this bog.”

Wolfe grunted, and I shot him a glare, hoping that he understood he’d better not say anything about what a shock that was.

But it was Cillian who decided to ruin the moment. “Who would’ve thought?” he asked, taking another sip of his wine.

He’d already downed a whole goblet.

“Maybe you should take it easy.” Father reached over and set Cillian’s glass down.