When I’d arrived home, I’d been shocked to see how much my father had fallen apart. The cottage was a mess, all his food moldy and stale. His shop was even worse, on the verge of needing to be permanently closed. That had all been happening before his heart attack. He wasn’t doing well without me.
I knew that I couldn’t leave him again. He wouldn’t survive it.
“So you left the institute and Riven started his career as a bard.” Layla took a sip from tankard. “And you two never talked about that night?”
I shook my head. “I honestly started to think maybe I imagined it. Maybe I imagined him leaning in like he wanted to kiss me. But now we have kissed, and it’s brought back all those feelings that I suppressed for so long.”
Because if I let myself admit I wanted something more than friendship with Riven, what would that mean for my life here with my father?
“So do something about it,” Layla said.
Riven was back at the front of the room, his fingers picking their way over the strings in an intricate rhythm.
“What can I do?” I asked. “Even if I do have feelings for Riven, I can’t act on them. It would never work between us. Not with his career and my life.”
“Maybe he would give it all up for you?” She grabbed a chunk of bread and popped it in her mouth.
I stared at him as he closed his eyes, slowing the beat down as his voice rang out, soulful and passionate.
“No,” I said. “He loves what he does. This is what he was meant to do. I could never ask him to give it up, even if he claimed he wanted to. It would only lead to resentment.”
Layla bit her lip, and I took a drink of the apple ale. It sparkled in my mouth, short, sweet bursts of apple and sugar mingling with the ale.
“This is delicious.” I took another drink. “And thank you. For listening.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more,” Layla said.
“I don’t think I was looking for a solution.” I grabbed a piece of bread and took a bite. “I think I just needed to talk about it.”
Layla blew out a breath. “I know what you mean. Relationships are complicated.”
I wondered if she was referring to her date the previous night. “How did last night go?” I hedged.
Her face broke into a shy smile. “It was nice.”
Well, that wasn’t much information. If Herman were here, he’d be peppering her with questions. I thought about the conversation I’d overheard between her and Althea, how Althea had talked nonstop, not letting Layla get a single word in.
If I was going to run this tea shop, host these matchmaking events, then that meant I was responsible for those who met potential matches. I was definitely responsible for Layla since she worked for me.
Layla traced a circle of condensation on the table, and I waited to see if she’d say anything else. A broom swept past us on the floor, pushing crumbs into a dustpan. “Althea was nice,” Layla offered.
“That’s good,” I said. “Did you get to tell her much about yourself?”
Layla’s finger stopped in its motion, and her brows furrowed. “Well, I didn’tdo a lot of talking. She did ask some questions.” She tilted her head. “She also talked... a lot. But her stories were so fascinating. I could’ve listened to them all night.”
My stomach sank, my suspicions confirmed. “You know, you didn’t talk to anyone else. There were a lot of lovely witches there.” I took a bite of bread. “Are you looking for a serious courtship?”
“Yes,” Layla said, her eyes going dreamy. “I want to get married, have a family, a good job. I know I’m young and I didn’t attend the institute, but I-I think I have a lot of good qualities.” Her voice grew so quiet, I almost didn’t hear that last part.
“You do,” I said firmly.
Her face fell. “I wish Aunt Morty saw that.”
My own heart squeezed in sympathy. “She does.”
It was clear that Layla needed a partner who’d instill confidence in her. If she really wanted a relationship, then she deserved someone who would, at the very least, let her talk and share her ideas, not walk all over her.
“Maybe get out there a bit,” I suggested. “Althea is just one witch. There are so many others you could talk to, court, get to know.”
