I pace the kitchen, waiting for my husband and daughter to return home. I have a feeling that they won’t be bringing anything substantial, but that’s not what’s bothering me. They’ve never been gone this long before; at least not without some kind of signal for me.
Sometimes, Pollyx will break the night skies with one of his silver darts to let me know everything is okay and that there’s nothing to worry about. No matter how many times I strained to look out through the windows of our home, I didn’t see one.
I don’t know what I’ll do if they’re dead. Life won’t be easy, not that it is already, but not having a husband to help provide for basic needs he assumes I’m no longer capable of will put a dent in any future I’ve fantasized about.
Come back to me, I will silently as I replace the plank against the window. Both of you.
Not that I would be heartbroken if Beverly didn’t make it back, though I would feel some guilt about how strained our relationship has been lately. It wouldn’t give me a chance to repair it and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of whatever life I have left.
My body slides down the wall as I sit on the floor and pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping an arm around them. I rest my forehead against my knees and take a succession of deep breaths. It’s something that Pollyx taught me a long time ago. It allows me a moment to let the situations I can’t control right away lie and also gives me a chance to figure out how to fix them.
And if they don’t come back, I’ll have other things to worry about.
I put my face in my hands and let out a muffled scream of frustration before I force myself back up to my feet. I have to remember that it wouldn’t be just me if something happened to Pollyx and Beverly. There would be no time for pity parties because I’d have someone else to provide for.
“Okay,” I say out loud. “Everything will be all right if they don’t come back. I have enough food to last for the next month, and I know how to hunt.” The tremor of my voice tells me I don’t believe in my own skills anymore. So why the hell would I expect my husband to?
“Heidi?”
I gasp at the sound of Pollyx’s voice and run blindly toward the front of the house.
He lets out a good-natured laugh when I launch myself against him. I feel his muscular arms wrap around my body as he holds me close, rubbing my back for a moment, then pulling away.
“Everything all right?” he asks with a chuckle as he brushes my hair out of my eyes.
I reach for him again because I want to feel the warmth of his body. I want to know the safety of his embrace, but he clears his throat and casts a glance toward Beverly, who’s standing next to us watching with an annoyed expression.
“I don’t know, is it?” I shoot back at him before throwing my hands in the air and walking away from them.
I make it all the way to our bedroom, but before I have the chance to slam the door behind me, he stops it with his hand.
“What’s wrong, Heidi?” he asks curiously.
“Nothing,” I reply curtly. “I’m glad you’re both okay.”
“Doesn’t seem like it, darlin’.”
I arch an eyebrow at Pollyx. It’s rare he calls me that anymore, and I’m wondering if something is wrong, after all.
“Did you find a boar?” I ask, sidestepping his attempt to calm the obvious tension he must feel is seething from my pores.
“We tried, but no such luck,” he admits with a sigh as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
I’ve never once known Pollyx to seem almost bashful about not being able to find an animal, but his cheeks are turning red under his beard.
“Fine.”
“Heidi—”
“I said it’s fine.” Cutting him off won’t put him in the best mood, but now that I know they’re both safe, I should probably start dinner.
“Just leave whatever you’re wanting for dinner on the table in the kitchen, and I’ll dress and cook it.”
Pollyx lingers for a moment before he walks over to me, closing the gap between us, and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“You know I love you, right?” he asks softly.
I nod.
“Good, because I do. I always will, Heidi. Remember that when times get hard. You’re the only girl for me.”
I shake my head as I jerk away from his hand and walk by him out into the hallway. He’s not used to me rebuffing his affection or advances, but I’m not used to feeling like I’m competing for his fucking attention.
As I walk by the living room, I happen to catch Beverly perched on the arm of one of our good couches, arms crossed tightly over her chest, giving me a sinister glare.
Like she knew she would be seeing me before him.
I’ll kill you first, I warn silently as I turn my attention away from her and continue into the kitchen.