Enchanted Page 48

"No, I'm sure you didn't," she said quietly. The force of her fury had passed. Now she was only tired. "That only makes it sadder. And me more pathetic. I told you I loved you." Tears still trembled on the edge of her voice. "And you know I do. But you can't tell me, you can't decide if it- suits you."

She swallowed the tears, reached deep for the pride she'd used too rarely. "From here, I decide my own fate." She drew her hand from him, stood back. "And you yours."

She turned to the door, bringing him a fresh and baffling wave of panic. "Where are you going?"

"Where I please." She glanced back. "I was your lover, Liam, but never your partner. I won't settle for that, not even for you." She let out a quiet breath, studying him in the shifting light. "You had my heart in your hands," she murmured. "And you didn't know what to do with it. I can tell you, without the crystal ball, without the gift, you'll never have another like it."

As she slipped away from him he knew it was not only prophecy, it was truth.

It took her a week to deal with the practicalities. San Francisco hadn't changed in the months she'd been gone, nor in the days she'd been back. But she had.

She could look out her window now, at the city and realize it hadn't been the place that had dissatisfied her, but her place in it. It was doubtful she'd ever live there again, but she thought she could look back and find memories-good and bad. Life was made up of both.

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Rowan?" Belinda asked. She was a graceful woman, with dark hair, short as a pixie's, and eyes of misty green.

Rowan glanced up from her packing and looked into Belinda's concerned face. "No, but I'm doing it just the same."

Rowan had changed, Belinda mused. She was certainly stronger, more than a little wounded. Guilt nagged at her. "I feel some responsibility in this."

"No." Rowan said it firmly, and smoothed a sweater into her suitcase. "You're not responsible."

Restless, Belinda wandered to the window. The bedroom was nearly empty now. She knew Rowan had given many of her things away, stored others. In the morning, she would be gone. "I sent you there."

"No, I asked if I could use your cabin."

Belinda turned. "There were things I could have told you."

"You weren't meant to-I understand that, Belinda."

"If I'd known Liam would be such a jackass, I-" She broke off, scowled. "I should have, I've known him all my life. A more stubborn, thickheaded, irritating man has yet to be born." Then she sighed. "But he's kind with it, and most of his stubbornness comes from caring so much."

"You don't have to explain him to me. If he'd trusted me, believed in me, things might be different." She took the last of her domes from the closet, laid them on the bed. "If he'd loved me, everything would be different."

"Are you so sure he doesn't?"

"I've decided the only thing I can be sure of is myself. It was the hardest and most valuable thing I learned while I was away. Do you want this blouse? It never flattered me."

"It's more my color than yours." Belinda wandered over, laid a hand on Rowan's shoulder. "Did you speak with your parents?"

"Yes. Well, I tried." Thoughtfully Rowan folded trousers, packed them. "On one level it went better than I ever expected. They were upset at first, and baffled, that I'm going away, that I'm giving up teaching. Naturally, they tried to point out the flaws, the consequences."

"Naturally," Belinda repeated, just dryly enough to make Rowan smile.

"They can't help it. But we talked a long time. You know, I don't think we've actually talked like that before. I explained why I was going, what I wanted to do and why-well not all the why."

"You didn't ask your mother about what you are?"

"In the end, I couldn't. I mentioned my grandmother, and legacies, and how being named after her had turned out to be so- appropriate. My mother waved it off. No," Rowan corrected with a sigh, "closed it off. It's as if she'd blocked it off-if she ever even really knew or suspected. What runs through my blood, and even through her own, simply doesn't exist in her world."

"So you left it at that?"

"Why should I push her on something that makes her uncomfortable or unhappy?" Rowan lifted her hands. "I'm content with it, so that's enough. If I'd insisted on stripping away whatever barrier she'd put up, what purpose would it serve?"

"None. You did the right thing, for yourself and your mother."

"What matters is, in the end, my parents understood as much as they're able about the decisions I've made. Because in the end all they want is for me to be happy."

"They love you."

"Yes, maybe more than I ever gave them credit for." And she smiled. "It helps some that Alan's been seeing someone else-a math instructor. My mother finally broke down and told me she's had them over for dinner and they're charming together."

"We'll wish them well."

"I wish them very well. He's a nice man and deserves to be happy."

"So do you."

"Yes, you're right." Giving it one last look, Rowan closed the last suitcase. "I intend to be. I'm excited, Belinda, nervous, but excited. Going to Ireland like this. One way ticket." She pressed a hand to her uneasy stomach. "Not knowing if I'll stay or where I'll go or what I'll do. It's thrilling."

"You'll go first to Castle Donovan in Clare? See Morgan's and Sebastian's and Ana's parents?"

"Yes. I appreciate you contacting them, and their asking me to stay."

"You'll enjoy them, and they you."

"I hope so. And I want to learn more." Rowan stared into the middle distance. "I very much want to learn."

"Then you will. Oh, I'll miss you. Cousin." With this Belinda caught Rowan in a hard embrace. "I have to go, before I start blubbering. Call me," she ordered, scooping up the blouse as she hurried out of the room. "Write, whistle in the wind, but keep in touch."

"I will." Rowan walked her to the door of the empty apartment, exchanged one last fierce hug. "Wish me luck."

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