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Iris: Big decisions. What happens if he does trust her and tells her about his feelings for her in an open and honest manner? Like an adult?
Kane: Well, for one, that doesn’t make for good television.
Iris: I suppose not. Where’s the drama of it all?
Kane: Exactly. But if he does trust her with his feelings, which he’d be doing for the first time ever with a woman, she could do one of two things.
Iris: Murder him?
Kane: Right, one of three things, I suppose. There’s always murder, though it would be a very unsuspecting plot twist in a rom-com, you bloodthirsty woman. Either she rejects him, like everyone else in his life, and he falls apart. Or she returns his feelings and…
Iris: And?
Kane: She rescues him. Nothing matters about how the future unfolds so long as they are together.
Iris: Sigh, my heart.
Kane: Okay, I’m good here. See you later.
Iris grinned down at the phone, loving how casually he expected to stop by and see her. He’d stopped asking if he could meet up with her, instead just showing up each day and making himself indispensable.
The shop was coming along nicely, as was her apartment upstairs. Both still needed a lot of work, and Iris wasn’t going to rush it. But the design for both was beginning to take shape, and Iris could see her vision coming to life.
Her vision.
Not Warren’s, not anyone else’s. Sure, her friends here had weighed in and argued about decorating choices, but they’d always defaulted to Iris to make the final decision. Knowing that people respected her choices felt good, and she hummed as she divided her crystals into small bowls. On a whim, Iris decided to make her shop more than just a place for her to conduct her readings. She’d decided to also sell a few things for those who were more magickly inclined. She thought she could do private readings three days a week and open her shop for the other two. That way, she’d have a nice balance between the emotional drain that came with reading clients and the excitement of meeting new people and selling items in her shop. She’d already booked Gracie’s line of products, some of Aislinn’s and Kira’s prints, and had arranged for a bulk supplier for her crystals.
When the bells over the door sounded an hour later, Iris smiled as Kane buzzed into the shop.
“I’ve got my painting clothes on, and I’m ready to tackle that wall,” Kane said as a way of hello. Iris’s heart sighed. The man wore gray sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt. Did men have any idea how good they looked in gray sweats? It was a dangerous combination, that sexy mixed with cuddly. She dragged her eyes away from him before she did something stupid like crawl on his lap.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m capable of painting, you know,” Iris said, rolling her eyes at him.
“I know, but you’re busy. Look at all those boxes you still have to unpack,” Kane said. He breezed past her, absentmindedly pressing a kiss to her cheek, before moving to where she’d piled painting supplies on the floor. He smelled like soap and bad decisions, and Iris had to actively clench her fists to stop herself from crossing to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. It had to be a crime to look that good in sweatpants. Iris deliberately turned away as Kane cracked the lid on the paint can.
“Oh, good color,” Kane said.
“Thanks, I loved the moody blue,” Iris agreed. She’d picked a deep, almost midnight blue color that boasted soft turquoise undertones. It contrasted nicely with the honey wood floors and the beams that crossed the ceiling. Iris could just see her painting from Aislinn’s store on the wall here, and she looked forward to hanging it in her store. She had already decided that would be the finishing touch, as it would mean she was finally home.
“I do too. It will showcase your artwork nicely and just adds a punch to this room. You shouldn’t be afraid to go bold, you know? I bet, with some of those rugs you picked out and that cool vintage furniture, it will make your clients really comfortable when they come in for a reading.”
As Kane chattered about her clients and what they’d like about her shop, dread grew in Iris’s stomach. He was just so…there. Involved. As though he ran the business with her.
No, this was not what she wanted.
Iris wanted to do this on her own. She needed to do it on her own. This was her shop, not hers and Kane’s. She slammed a box down on the table, panic gripping her, as she tried to methodically unpack the boxes of tarot cards she’d ordered.
She was being stupid. It wasn’t like Kane had invested in her business.
But neither had Warren.
It had started just like this.
As the realization dawned, Iris dropped the box of tarot cards she was holding and gaped at Kane. Her dependency on Warren had started just like this. He’d come in, helped her pick her shop and, soon, he’d been decorating it with her as well, though, admittedly, he’d been far more controlling of the pieces she’d picked. Still, he’d been there from day one. Making himself indispensable.
Up to the point when he’d destroyed her.
Her breath came in shallow pants, and she gripped the table's edges, trying to force the panic down. She was so stupid to think she was changing her path and growing. Instead, she’d waltzed right into the same pattern she’d been in before. Talk about a comfort blanket and all that…
