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She had to admit that the statement might have hurt. It had, and even Grandma Moretti had questioned her about it.
But that was before what happened yesterday.
“He already chose me.” She pressed her hands down on the countertop, not sure what to say. “Did you forget what happened yesterday? Why we’re even here at the mansion?”
Elton’s brows drew even closer. He opened his mouth, but Clary interrupted before he could get a word in.
“Seth stayed with me when a bomb was ticking down. He could’ve died, but he chose to stay with me, knowing that.”
Elton stared back at her. “So you’re saying he’ll choose you.”
She sighed softly. “And Oliver and Aldric would’ve stayed with him if he’d allowed it, if they didn’t have to fight with Zane over it. Zane would’ve stayed if he didn’t have to keep Oliver and Aldric away.” Clary pulled the dip away when Elton, who had been chomping away on the carrot and celery sticks, reached for yet another.
Elton frowned.
“It’s for dinner. I don’t have extra dip or extra ingredients to make another bowl of it.” She set the bowl out of Elton’s reach. “And no matter how much you hate me,” she continued, “you would’ve stayed with your brothers if you’d been there.”
Elton stared back at her, and for a moment, they just stared.
He seemed to be coming up with a retort, and she gave him the time to do so.
Only when Elton turned his face away did Clary say, “You love your brothers. I love Seth. I don’t need you to like me, but please don’t hurt your brother because of me.”
“When did I do that?”
“Whenever you talk about us being doomed.” She shook her head. “How can you not see it?” She licked her lips and swallowed her next words.
Clary couldn’t possibly spill Seth’s insecurities—not even to his brothers.
Elton poked his tongue into his cheek.
That familiar gesture reminded her to squeeze out whatever patience she could. “If you think it through, it isn’t worth ruining your relationship with Seth because of me.”
Clary turned to the stove and gave her butternut squash soup a stir. “And all I ask is that if you’re right about us, I hope you’ll wait at least a month before telling Seth ‘I told you so.’”
Elton grunted.
“Because what you’re doing right now is only hurting Seth,” she said while staring at the creamy yellow soup while she stirred, hoping those words would truly drop into Elton’s heart. “Because,” she peered over her shoulder and smirked, “you’re not important enough to me to hurt me. If you’re so sure that I’m going to hurt him, then just leave it to me.” Spinning back around, she held out the wooden spoon toward Elton.
The lines between his brows deepened as his brows drew even closer.
“We don’t have to both hurt him, right? Not right now, anyway. So for now, how about a truce?” She gave a hopeful smile. “You sit back and watch. Then tell him ‘I told you so’ a month after I so inevitably break his heart.” She brought the soup closer to his nose. “Try it.”
Elton sighed and complied.
His brows flicked up again, and Clary decided that Grandma Moretti was right. Food makes everyone nicer.
“Should I add more salt?” she asked.
“No. It’s good.”
She turned and gave the soup another stir.
“That’s kind of unhygienic, don’t you think?”
“It’s still boiling. It’ll boil away whatever germs there are.”
“And what are you going to do about Persistent Pete?”
