Page 115 of Ex Somnis

Paul frowns at me. “A few days off work is an unpaid vacation?”

“Apparently that qualifies.”

And I hate that it does.

Lennon is stuck in her mind, and somehow I’m here worrying about payroll, which is a stupid concern. It’s not even the money. It’s knowing I can never walk away from any of it without someone needing something from me.

“The inn seems to be surviving.” Paul’s remark seems to target my exact thought.

“Yeah.”

“The logging company appears to be surviving too.”

“Also yeah.” I shoot him a look. “I get where this is going, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Get where it’s going.”

I sigh. The hallway feels too narrow all of a sudden.

“The inn keeps running because I keep it running. The logging job pays because I show up. Jasper needs things. Mom needs things.” I shrug. “That’s just reality.”

“And if you disappeared for a week?”

“I can’t disappear for a week.”

“But if you did?”

I open my mouth to argue, but then have to close it again, because annoyingly, Simon just proved the inn wouldn’t immediately burst into flames.

“I hate when you do that,” I mutter.

“Do what?”

“Psychologist me.”

His mouth twitches as we step outside into the courtyard.

Smoke curls lazily from the cottage chimney, and through the kitchen window, I can see Mabel moving around inside.

“Do you like the logging work?” Paul asks.

I snort. “Not particularly.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

“Money.”

“And the inn?”

“That’s different.”

Paul’s eyebrow lifts. “How?”

The inn isn’t a job.