The Goddess Test
Page 46
“If I did not truly feel that you could change things, I would not have risked your life to begin with,” said Henry. “I am sorry you feel you are nobody to me, Kate, because the very opposite is true. And I could never expect you to be Persephone,” he added, that same hint of pain in his voice. “You are you, and as soon as I am able, I will tell you everything. I promise.”
I stared at the puppy, too afraid to say anything and make him change his mind. Was he just like James, saying what he thought I wanted to hear? Or did he really mean it?
“You lost a friend today because of me, and I did not want you to be lonely,” he said as he stroked the puppy, and its tail thumped against the mattress. “It is my understanding that one does not get a pet with someone if one does not expect—” He hesitated. “If one does not hope to spend quite a bit of time with that person in the future.”
Expect. Hope. Which one had he really meant?
I wanted to tell him exactly where James could shove our so-called friendship, but it took me a moment to remember how to speak. I’d spent my entire childhood bothering my mother for a puppy, but she’d always put her foot down. After she’d gotten sick, I’d given up, unable to take care of both her and a dog at the same time.
How had Henry known that? Or had he simply guessed?
“Is it—a girl or a boy?”
“A boy.” The corners of his lips twitched upward into a faint smile. “I do not wish for Cerberus to get any ideas.”
I hesitated. “He’s mine?”
“All yours. You can even take him with you in the spring, if you would like.”
I scooped the little dog up, cradling him to my chest. Standing on my arm, he licked my chin, barely able to reach.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “This is really nice of you.”
“It is my pleasure,” said Henry, standing. “I will leave you be and allow you the chance to get to know one another. He is quite friendly, I assure you, and very much alive. He is still learning etiquette, but he is an eager pupil.”
The puppy jumped higher, managing to reach my cheek. I grinned, and as Henry placed his hand on the door, I said, “Henry?”
“Yes?”
I pressed my lips together, trying to come up with the right combination of words to make him want to stay. To make him want to try for more than just my sake. Nothing came, so instead, after a moment that seemed to stretch out far past the point of politeness, I said in a small voice, “Please don’t give up.”
When he finally responded, his voice was so low that I could barely hear him. “I will try.”
“Please,” I said again, this time urgently. “After everything that’s happened—you can’t. I know you miss her, but—”
Silence lingered between us. “But what?”
“Please just—give me a chance.”
He looked away, and through the dim light I saw his shoulders hunch, as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. “Of course,” he said, opening the door. “Sleep well.”
I nuzzled the top of my puppy’s head. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to play cards or talk or read—anything that didn’t remind him of Persephone. After the night he’d had, he deserved that much. We both did.
“Stay,” I blurted. “Please.”
But when I looked up, he was gone.
CHAPTER 13
CHRISTMAS
For the next several weeks, my time with Henry was almost unbearable. While we still spent our evenings together, it was no longer easy, and every conversation and accidental touch felt strained. He never looked me in the eye, and the closer we got to Christmas, the more he seemed to pull away. The more he pulled away, the more I wanted to tear my hair out and tell him in no uncertain terms that either he shaped up or I would walk. Problem was, it was an empty threat and he would know it. Worse, I was afraid he would take me up on it.
“I don’t understand,” I said, pacing up and down the sidewalk. “He acts like he wants nothing to do with me anymore.”
My mother and I were near a playground in Central Park, and despite the deep snow that surrounded Eden Manor as the winter solstice arrived and the first half of my stay was over, it was midsummer here. In the distance I could hear children shouting, but I was too focused on Henry’s behavior to enjoy myself.
“Why do you think that might be?” said my mother. She sat on a bench and watched me, looking wholly unconcerned.
“I don’t know,” I said, frustrated. “What if he really has given up? What am I supposed to do then?”
“Keep trying until you have no more chances left,” said my mother. There was a hint of steel in her voice that made me wonder if she were really as passive about this as she seemed. “And even then, you keep going.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. It wasn’t that easy and she knew it. “James said none of the other girls had survived past Christmas—do you think maybe that’s why he’s avoiding me? He thinks I’m going to drop dead at any moment?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps he realized he does care about you, and he’s afraid of losing you as well.”
I snorted. “Fat chance of that. He won’t even look at me.”
She sighed. “You’re the one spending time with him, Kate, not me. I can only go off of what you tell me, and if Henry really is as miserable as he sounds, then I doubt anyone else is going to be able to pull him out of it.”
I stared at the puppy, too afraid to say anything and make him change his mind. Was he just like James, saying what he thought I wanted to hear? Or did he really mean it?
“You lost a friend today because of me, and I did not want you to be lonely,” he said as he stroked the puppy, and its tail thumped against the mattress. “It is my understanding that one does not get a pet with someone if one does not expect—” He hesitated. “If one does not hope to spend quite a bit of time with that person in the future.”
Expect. Hope. Which one had he really meant?
I wanted to tell him exactly where James could shove our so-called friendship, but it took me a moment to remember how to speak. I’d spent my entire childhood bothering my mother for a puppy, but she’d always put her foot down. After she’d gotten sick, I’d given up, unable to take care of both her and a dog at the same time.
How had Henry known that? Or had he simply guessed?
“Is it—a girl or a boy?”
“A boy.” The corners of his lips twitched upward into a faint smile. “I do not wish for Cerberus to get any ideas.”
I hesitated. “He’s mine?”
“All yours. You can even take him with you in the spring, if you would like.”
I scooped the little dog up, cradling him to my chest. Standing on my arm, he licked my chin, barely able to reach.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “This is really nice of you.”
“It is my pleasure,” said Henry, standing. “I will leave you be and allow you the chance to get to know one another. He is quite friendly, I assure you, and very much alive. He is still learning etiquette, but he is an eager pupil.”
The puppy jumped higher, managing to reach my cheek. I grinned, and as Henry placed his hand on the door, I said, “Henry?”
“Yes?”
I pressed my lips together, trying to come up with the right combination of words to make him want to stay. To make him want to try for more than just my sake. Nothing came, so instead, after a moment that seemed to stretch out far past the point of politeness, I said in a small voice, “Please don’t give up.”
When he finally responded, his voice was so low that I could barely hear him. “I will try.”
“Please,” I said again, this time urgently. “After everything that’s happened—you can’t. I know you miss her, but—”
Silence lingered between us. “But what?”
“Please just—give me a chance.”
He looked away, and through the dim light I saw his shoulders hunch, as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. “Of course,” he said, opening the door. “Sleep well.”
I nuzzled the top of my puppy’s head. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to play cards or talk or read—anything that didn’t remind him of Persephone. After the night he’d had, he deserved that much. We both did.
“Stay,” I blurted. “Please.”
But when I looked up, he was gone.
CHAPTER 13
CHRISTMAS
For the next several weeks, my time with Henry was almost unbearable. While we still spent our evenings together, it was no longer easy, and every conversation and accidental touch felt strained. He never looked me in the eye, and the closer we got to Christmas, the more he seemed to pull away. The more he pulled away, the more I wanted to tear my hair out and tell him in no uncertain terms that either he shaped up or I would walk. Problem was, it was an empty threat and he would know it. Worse, I was afraid he would take me up on it.
“I don’t understand,” I said, pacing up and down the sidewalk. “He acts like he wants nothing to do with me anymore.”
My mother and I were near a playground in Central Park, and despite the deep snow that surrounded Eden Manor as the winter solstice arrived and the first half of my stay was over, it was midsummer here. In the distance I could hear children shouting, but I was too focused on Henry’s behavior to enjoy myself.
“Why do you think that might be?” said my mother. She sat on a bench and watched me, looking wholly unconcerned.
“I don’t know,” I said, frustrated. “What if he really has given up? What am I supposed to do then?”
“Keep trying until you have no more chances left,” said my mother. There was a hint of steel in her voice that made me wonder if she were really as passive about this as she seemed. “And even then, you keep going.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. It wasn’t that easy and she knew it. “James said none of the other girls had survived past Christmas—do you think maybe that’s why he’s avoiding me? He thinks I’m going to drop dead at any moment?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps he realized he does care about you, and he’s afraid of losing you as well.”
I snorted. “Fat chance of that. He won’t even look at me.”
She sighed. “You’re the one spending time with him, Kate, not me. I can only go off of what you tell me, and if Henry really is as miserable as he sounds, then I doubt anyone else is going to be able to pull him out of it.”
