The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a vibrant mixture of reds, oranges, and purples. Beth had just left to help someone find their missing cat—or was it a dog?— and Carol was spending some time with Bryan, leaving me to fend for myself. The evening air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of fall leaves as I pulled up in front of Deva's restaurant. The warm glow of candlelight spilled out onto the sidewalk, creating a cozy atmosphere that belied the chaos we'd been dealing with lately. Inside, I found Deva hunched over some papers at one of the tables.
"Who needs electricity when you have good ol' fashioned candles, right?" I said, trying to keep my spirits up despite the heaviness weighing on my heart. She hadn't heard me. "Hey," I said, perhaps a tad too loudly. Deva jumped, nearly knocking over the precarious stack of papers she'd been poring over. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you there."
"Emma," Deva said, recovering quickly and shooting me a wry grin. "You've got the stealth of a ninja, I swear. What brings you here?"
I smiled. "Can't a friend just drop by to see how another friend is holding up in the midst of all this... well, craziness?"
"Of course," Deva said, her face softening. "I appreciate it, Emma. It's just been... overwhelming, you know?"
"Trust me, I get it," I assured her, taking a seat across from her at the table. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, but it illuminated the resolve in Deva's eyes. "Hey, at least you're not alone." I nodded toward her stack of papers. "So what's with all the paperwork?"
"Ugh, don't even get me started on the insurance, the bills, the reports, and the paperwork from the contractors." She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Just trying to sort through everything and figure out what needs to be done next. Every time I think I've got a handle on it, something else comes up."
"Sounds about right for our lives lately."
"Right," Deva offered me a small smile.
I studied Deva's face as she sighed and rubbed her nose. The flickering candlelight cast a warm, golden glow on her ebony skin, highlighting the frustration in her eyes.
"I'm just so overwhelmed." She looked down at the papers scattered across the table. "Even though the repairs have been going smoother than I expected, there's always something else to worry about."
"Like what?" I asked, scooting my chair closer.
"Like..." she hesitated for a moment, clearly struggling with whether or not to share her thoughts. "Like how Marquis talked to the other warlocks about not listening to me when it comes to my own life and my own business. I mean, he meant well, but it's frustrating that they listened to him instead of me. I'm the one who built this place from the ground up, and yet they won't take me seriously."
A pang of empathy resonated within me. As a black woman and a business owner, Deva had faced countless challenges and barriers that I couldn't even begin to understand. It wasn't fair that she also had to fight for her voice to be heard among our own kind.
"Deva, listen to me," I said, placing my hand on her arm. "You've done an incredible job with this place. It's your hard work and determination that made it what it is today. You're a strong, independent woman who built this business from the ground up."
I looked around at the dimly lit, yet cozy restaurant, taking in the warm glow of the candles flickering on the tables. Despite the turmoil Deva faced, her restaurant was still a welcoming oasis, or it would be soon.
"Remember when you first started?" I continued, recalling the early days. "It was just you, a few recipes, and a dream. Look where you are now. This place is amazing, and it's all because of you."
Deva let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I did do all of this, didn't I?"
"Damn right you did," I said, slapping my hand on the table for emphasis. "Don't you forget it."
Deva's expression shifted as she stared into the distance. "You know what? You're absolutely right. I built this business with my own two hands, and now someone's trying to take it from me. But I won't let them. I won't let anyone, warlock or otherwise, mess with what I've created."
Deva's jaw set and eyes blazed. "And if I’m going to face my life problems, I may as well face them all. Let's go talk to Harry," she declared.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked hesitantly, my stomach churning at the thought of facing Deva's ex-husband. The man was a whole bundle of unresolved issues, and I wasn't entirely convinced that confronting him would end well.
"Positive," she said. "It's time to clear the air, for both our sakes." With that, she snuffed out the candle on the table and began locking up the restaurant.
As we stepped outside, the early night air wrapped around us like a cool, comforting blanket. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the quiet street. Despite the soothing atmosphere, my anxiety spiked as we climbed into Deva's car.
The silence during the drive was thick enough to slice through with a knife. The tension in the car was palpable as we approached Harry's house. I fidgeted with my sleeves, trying to ignore the nagging worry in my stomach and failing miserably. The run-in earlier that day had shaken me more than I cared to admit, and now we were about to face him again on his own turf.
I swallowed hard. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
She nodded firmly, her jaw set. "It has to be done. We need answers."
"Right." I attempted to bolster my own courage. "Answers. Got it."
After a minute, she continued more quietly. “I’m never going to be able to move on or have any chance of things going well with Marquis if my ex still has his claws in me. I need to cut all the strings with Harry, for myself, for my future, and if I have any hope of romance in my life.”
She was right. I remember how good it felt when my ex was no longer a frog, and we could actually put things behind us. It didn’t mean I liked him, or completely forgave him, but I needed to feel at peace with our situation, if only for myself.
My phone buzzed. I swiped to see photos of engagement rings from my son.
I squealed, then regretted it, but Deva was grinning. “What is it?”
My nose wrinkled. “This may very well be the worst time ever…”
“Out with it.”
Sighing, I showed her. “Engagement rings from my son. He wants my opinion.”
She grinned. “Well, give it to him! And if you let him buy that third one, the one that’s ugly as sin, I’ll never forgive you.”
I laughed and texted him back, not telling him that any of them were ugly, but picking out my favorites. Then, I reminded him that he was an amazing man. She would be lucky to have him, and she’ll love whatever he picked out. When I was done, I put away my phone and focused on my friend and the earth-changing thing we were about to do.
As we pulled up to Harry's small, unassuming home, I took in every detail. The moon cast eerie shadows on the neatly trimmed lawn, making the shrubs look like they were reaching out to grab us. My overactive imagination was getting the better of me.
I followed Deva's lead, stepping out of the vehicle and doing my best to ignore the way my knees threatened to buckle beneath me.
"Ready?" Deva asked steadily despite the nerves she must have been feeling herself.
"About as ready as I'll ever be." I gave her a weak smile.
Deva pressed the doorbell. The chime resonated through the house, and moments later, the door swung open to reveal Harry standing there, his face a mix of confusion and annoyance.
"Deva? Emma?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you two doing here?"
"Can we talk?" Deva asked.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. Make it quick."
Before he could step outside, we heard a woman's voice call out from inside the house. "Harry, who is it?"
"Nobody important," he said back dismissively, slamming the door behind him as he stepped out onto the porch.
"Charming," I said under my breath.
Deva shot me a warning glance, then turned her attention back to Harry. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about us."
"Us?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "What about us? I’ve been trying to talk about us constantly, but you’ve either been running away or running around with that Marquis"
Deva didn’t react to his barbs. "I wanted to talk specifically about the fact that there's not still an us left to salvage."
Harry stared at her for what felt like an eternity before finally speaking. "Are you sure?"
"We've been over this," Deva said with a sigh. "We're not good for each other. We haven't been for a long time."
He stood up taller. “I get it. I get that I always chose my friends, bars, hell, even just driving around, over you and the girls. You were the one that ran the house and ran our lives, and I just sat back along for the ride.”
“It’s not just that–”
“And I wasn’t there for you when your mom died. You were grieving, and I just couldn’t understand what you needed. I thought you should just be able to get over it, but, I guess, that’s not how it works.”
Even now, he sounded pissed and not at all like he was accepting what he’d done. Heck, I was pretty sure he was just repeating the things she’d told him right back like a parrot, without ever having taken the time to process what she was saying. His words sounded hollow and unempathetic, although he’d had a lot of time to think about why their marriage fell apart.
“Harry, we’re over. I don’t want to be with you any longer. I wasn’t happy in our marriage for a long time and no part of me wants that life back.”
"Maybe I don't want to give up so easily," he said. "Maybe I think we're worth fighting for."
Like he fought so hard for his marriage when they were together? I wanted to snort. I remembered the phone calls. The number of times she begged him to be a partner. This man was a ball and chain around her ankle, and she was far, far better off without him.
"Even if it means holding each other back?" Deva asked softly. "Because that's what we've been doing, holding each other back from being our best selves."
Deva had more grace and wisdom than anyone I knew.
Harry deflated a bit at her words, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You don’t mean that.”
She looked at him square in the eye. “I do. Right now, I’m at peace with us. But if you keep pushing, I’m going to learn to hate and resent you.” She took a deep breath. “You made a lot of my years hard and miserable. I’m not going to let you ruin any more.”
I saw it. I saw the moment something clicked with him. “I did do that, didn’t I? The last thing I want to do is keep hurting you.” He sighed. “So that's it, then? Just like that, we're done?"
"We've been done for a while now," Deva said gently. "It's just time we both accept that and move on."
"Fine," he said, kicking at a stray pebble on the ground. "If that's what you want."
"It is," Deva said. "And I hope someday you'll see that it's for the best."
"Deva," Harry said, his voice softening as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you earlier today. You deserve happiness, and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that." He paused, running a hand over his shaved head. "I guess I'll always hold out hope for us, even if it's just a tiny ember."
"Thank you for the apology," Deva said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "We both know that's not what we need right now."
"Right." He sighed, looking down at his shoes. "Still, it's hard to let go completely."
"Nothing worth doing is ever easy," she said, her eyes tender but firm.
"True enough," he said, though his frown remained etched on his face.
Deva shifted her weight from one foot to the other before speaking again. "There's something else we need to talk about." She hesitated, her courage wavering for a moment, before plunging ahead. "The café caught fire recently," she said softly, watching his reaction.
"Jesus," Harry said, but he didn't look surprised. Interesting. Either he was involved, or it was just small town gossip. "Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?"
"No, everyone's fine," she said. "There's more to it than just a random accident. Someone has put a curse on the place."
"A curse?" Harry said, his incredulity palpable. Now he really did look surprised. Even more interesting. "Are you sure about this?"
"Positive," she said, her expression grave. "It was confirmed by Beth. Someone is trying to sabotage me, but I don't know who or why."
"Damn." he ran a hand through the air as if grasping for answers. "That's—that's insane, Deva. I don't even know what to say. I heard about the fire, but not the curse. That's some seriously messed up stuff." He shook his head, clearly as disturbed by the whole situation as we were. "I'll keep an ear out, okay? If I hear anything that might help, I'll let you know."
"Thank you, Harry," Deva said, and for a moment, I could see a glimpse of their past together, a time when they had been allies instead of adversaries. It was strange to think that love could morph into something so fractured and painful, but then again, life had a way of throwing curveballs at the most inconvenient times. This particular curveball had been lobbed right at Deva's heart.
"Take care of yourself," he said sincerely. "Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything. Even if it's just someone to talk to."
"Same goes for you," she said. It was a bittersweet moment, watching two people who had once loved each other deeply now standing on opposite sides of an invisible divide.
"Goodbye," Deva said softly, and she meant it, not just for tonight, but for all the yesterdays and tomorrows that stretched out between them.
"Goodbye," he said, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored her own.
As we turned away from him and walked back toward the car, the night felt heavier somehow, like the weight of their shared history was pressing down on us like a leaden blanket. I glanced over at Deva, her face pale and drawn in the moonlight, and a surge of protectiveness coursed through me. Whatever it took to help her through this, I was prepared to do.
"Come on." I nodded toward the car. "Let's go home and regroup. Tomorrow's a new day, and we've got a mystery to solve."
The night was eerily quiet as we rode in my car, the silence broken only by our own breathing and the distant hum of the engine. The air was thick with tension, though not entirely unpleasant. An electric charge hung in the atmosphere, waiting to spark something new.
"Emma," Deva whispered. "I think... I think I'm finally ready for something real with Marquis."
Her words rang out like a bell, clear and true, and I smiled. Yay! After everything she'd been through, she deserved someone who would treat her right, and Marquis seemed like the perfect fit.
"That's amazing," I said excitedly, my hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "I'm so happy for you. You two will be great together."
"It took me a while to get here, but I'm glad I did."
"Now, let's go celebrate your newfound love life, huh?"
Before we could even turn the next corner, however, Deva's phone trilled loudly, its vibrations sending an unexpected jolt of surprise through me. She fumbled with it for a moment before pressing it to her ear, her brow furrowing in concern.
"Hello? ... What? ... How did that happen? ... Okay, we'll be right there. Stay safe." Her voice trembled slightly as she ended the call, her fingers tapping nervously against the screen.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my stomach clenched with worry. Our lives had become a never-ending parade of bad news, and I braced myself for the next blow.
"One of the windows of the café just burst," she said. "For no apparent reason. Something's not right. We need to get there now."
"Okay, don't worry," I said, pressing down on the accelerator, urging us forward as fast as the old engine could manage. "We'll figure this out, Deva. We always do."