Goddess Interrupted
Page 65
“I grew up in New York, too,” I said faintly, and Ingrid smiled.
“I think Henry has a weakness for New Yorkers,” she said. “And girls without much family. I think he feels like it’d be easier for us to love him if we’re already lonely.” I shook my head. She was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to remember how much Henry hated himself. “I could’ve had a huge family back in the city and loved him all the same.”
“Try telling him that,” said Ingrid wryly. “He’s always been that way, you know. Convinced he isn’t worthy of being loved, even though I grew up with him. We used to take walks together. He wasn’t in this form—I mean, he looked like a boy around my age, and for a long time I thought he was. He was my best friend. We used to wander the streets together, and we’d talk about everything—steal apples from the merchants and get into so much trouble.” The skin around her eyes wrinkled with happiness. “He made my miserable little life worthwhile. He told me who he really was the day I left the orphanage, and he took me to his home in the forest. It was beautiful. You’ve been there?”
I nodded. “Eden Manor.”
“It was the f irst real home I’d had since my parents died.” Ingrid took my hand and threaded her slim f ingers through mine. Her bones felt brittle, like a bird’s. As if squeezing too hard would break them. “He told me about Persephone.
And he told me that while she was his past, he wanted me to be his future.” She shook her head. “It’s such a ridiculous thing to remember, but I do. And every time he comes to visit me, I think about that and how he wasn’t just saying it because he thought I needed to hear it. He loved all of us in his own way, Kate. Me, the others who died, you—but look at how many of us he’s lost. Look at what he went through with Persephone. He thinks he’s responsible for all of it, you know, and that guilt isn’t going to go away overnight. Can you blame him for holding back?”
I swallowed. No, I couldn’t. And I’d had no idea he’d loved the other girls like he claimed to love me. All of that loss…everything I’d gone through with my mother a dozen times over, but Henry didn’t have cancer to blame. “You should have passed,” I said softly. “It sounds like you two would have been really happy together.”
“Probably.” Ingrid’s smile faded as she focused on the running water. “But I didn’t, and there’s no going back now. I want him to be happy, Kate.”
“Me, too,” I mumbled. “I’m trying. I really am, but it feels like he doesn’t want me.”
“He’s hurting. Henry’s never been very good with expressing his emotions, and sometimes that takes patience.
Not that I think you don’t have patience,” she said quickly.
“Only that he takes more than the usual amount.”
“I’m staying,” I said. “For now, at least. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to f ix this.”
“What if it doesn’t need f ixing?” Ingrid focused on me, her green eyes wide. “What if it’s already perfect underneath the surface, and the surface is what’s getting in the way?”
I blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“You think the problem is that Henry doesn’t love you,” said Ingrid, and I shrugged. “But I’m telling you— everyone’s told you that he does. So you have two choices—either accept that you’re wrong and let Henry love you in his own way, or force both of you to be miserable until you realize he loves you anyway.”
I snorted. “That doesn’t sound like much of a choice.”
“Of course it is. You can choose to be happy or you can choose to be miserable, and that’s completely within your power. Henry doesn’t have to do a thing.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” I said. “Or what if you’re overestimating how he feels?”
“Then you’ll give Henry the chance to really fall in love with you.” Ingrid beamed. “That’d be fun, too, wouldn’t it?” I ran my f ingertips across the cold surface of the ruby. It was even shaped like an apple. “He’s busy with the battle.
They all are.”
“Not for much longer though. And you can either make excuses or you can suck it up and see things from his per-spective, and you’ll both be happier for it. You don’t have to do anything differently. Just think about what he’s going through, and be yourself and let both of you have the chance to be happy. Everything else will fall into place.” I was silent. That was what I’d been trying to do, but nothing had changed. That night we’d spent together in Eden Manor—aphrodisiac or no, my desire to be with him had been all-consuming, and it was the f irst honest thing I’d let myself feel since I’d arrived at the manor. That passion was real. And the way he’d kissed me—
I’d been so sure it was real for him, too. I wanted that back. I wanted those kisses, those touches, the way he’d looked at me. I wanted to be that person to him again.
“What do you think would happen if I just walked up to him and kissed him?” I said, and Ingrid laughed.
“I think he’d let you. What if he’s waiting for you to do that, Kate? What if he’s waiting for a sign the same way you are, and you’re both circling each other, waiting, waiting, waiting?”
“I think Henry has a weakness for New Yorkers,” she said. “And girls without much family. I think he feels like it’d be easier for us to love him if we’re already lonely.” I shook my head. She was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier to remember how much Henry hated himself. “I could’ve had a huge family back in the city and loved him all the same.”
“Try telling him that,” said Ingrid wryly. “He’s always been that way, you know. Convinced he isn’t worthy of being loved, even though I grew up with him. We used to take walks together. He wasn’t in this form—I mean, he looked like a boy around my age, and for a long time I thought he was. He was my best friend. We used to wander the streets together, and we’d talk about everything—steal apples from the merchants and get into so much trouble.” The skin around her eyes wrinkled with happiness. “He made my miserable little life worthwhile. He told me who he really was the day I left the orphanage, and he took me to his home in the forest. It was beautiful. You’ve been there?”
I nodded. “Eden Manor.”
“It was the f irst real home I’d had since my parents died.” Ingrid took my hand and threaded her slim f ingers through mine. Her bones felt brittle, like a bird’s. As if squeezing too hard would break them. “He told me about Persephone.
And he told me that while she was his past, he wanted me to be his future.” She shook her head. “It’s such a ridiculous thing to remember, but I do. And every time he comes to visit me, I think about that and how he wasn’t just saying it because he thought I needed to hear it. He loved all of us in his own way, Kate. Me, the others who died, you—but look at how many of us he’s lost. Look at what he went through with Persephone. He thinks he’s responsible for all of it, you know, and that guilt isn’t going to go away overnight. Can you blame him for holding back?”
I swallowed. No, I couldn’t. And I’d had no idea he’d loved the other girls like he claimed to love me. All of that loss…everything I’d gone through with my mother a dozen times over, but Henry didn’t have cancer to blame. “You should have passed,” I said softly. “It sounds like you two would have been really happy together.”
“Probably.” Ingrid’s smile faded as she focused on the running water. “But I didn’t, and there’s no going back now. I want him to be happy, Kate.”
“Me, too,” I mumbled. “I’m trying. I really am, but it feels like he doesn’t want me.”
“He’s hurting. Henry’s never been very good with expressing his emotions, and sometimes that takes patience.
Not that I think you don’t have patience,” she said quickly.
“Only that he takes more than the usual amount.”
“I’m staying,” I said. “For now, at least. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to f ix this.”
“What if it doesn’t need f ixing?” Ingrid focused on me, her green eyes wide. “What if it’s already perfect underneath the surface, and the surface is what’s getting in the way?”
I blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“You think the problem is that Henry doesn’t love you,” said Ingrid, and I shrugged. “But I’m telling you— everyone’s told you that he does. So you have two choices—either accept that you’re wrong and let Henry love you in his own way, or force both of you to be miserable until you realize he loves you anyway.”
I snorted. “That doesn’t sound like much of a choice.”
“Of course it is. You can choose to be happy or you can choose to be miserable, and that’s completely within your power. Henry doesn’t have to do a thing.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” I said. “Or what if you’re overestimating how he feels?”
“Then you’ll give Henry the chance to really fall in love with you.” Ingrid beamed. “That’d be fun, too, wouldn’t it?” I ran my f ingertips across the cold surface of the ruby. It was even shaped like an apple. “He’s busy with the battle.
They all are.”
“Not for much longer though. And you can either make excuses or you can suck it up and see things from his per-spective, and you’ll both be happier for it. You don’t have to do anything differently. Just think about what he’s going through, and be yourself and let both of you have the chance to be happy. Everything else will fall into place.” I was silent. That was what I’d been trying to do, but nothing had changed. That night we’d spent together in Eden Manor—aphrodisiac or no, my desire to be with him had been all-consuming, and it was the f irst honest thing I’d let myself feel since I’d arrived at the manor. That passion was real. And the way he’d kissed me—
I’d been so sure it was real for him, too. I wanted that back. I wanted those kisses, those touches, the way he’d looked at me. I wanted to be that person to him again.
“What do you think would happen if I just walked up to him and kissed him?” I said, and Ingrid laughed.
“I think he’d let you. What if he’s waiting for you to do that, Kate? What if he’s waiting for a sign the same way you are, and you’re both circling each other, waiting, waiting, waiting?”
