The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,81
turning his face to the side, “How about we go there on our honeymoon?”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” I murmured, rubbing his neck and working back down to his injured shoulder. The tension between us increased and grew sweetly unbearable, until I finally had to give in to the impulse and kiss his ear.
He turned around to take me into a warm embrace, and I snuggled against his bare chest, “We have our whole lives to go places together,” he murmured in my ear, “Unless you’re planning on leaving me.”
“Why would you even say that?” I frowned.
“I dunno,” he said morosely, “The way you freaked out about Stella… It makes me wonder if maybe you’re having some second thoughts.”
I sat up, not sure what to say. Once again, I found it hard to believe he would see it that way; then I remembered how adamantly I had denied Stella’s passing. My reaction must have looked odd to him, but the double shock of losing her and realizing that I’d spoken with her ghost had floored me. Oh what a tangled web we weave, I thought. It was all because I was hiding the fact that I’d been sneaking out to surf at night.
“No” I said firmly, “Not even for one second.” I took his face in my hands and went nose to nose with him, “You’re stuck with me.”
“Good.”
He clutched me to him tightly, and I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat speed up. I excused myself and headed over to my little corner washroom, snagging my tote on the way, and remembering how I’d wanted to bring him here before leaving for Paris. I’d let Amber spoil that night, and I gritted my teeth at the memory. She wasn’t going to come between us ever again.
I opened the tote and pulled out the silky nightgown set I’d bought in Paris. Overcome with a sudden boldness, I stripped down and slipped it on. It was lacy, clingy, and transparent, making me wonder what I could have possibly been thinking when I picked it out. I encircled my eyes with a smudgy liner pencil, fluffed up my hair, and daubed some perfume behind my ears. I brushed my hair over and over again until it shone, lingering nervously as I turned this way and that in the little antique mirror. Finally, just when I was on the verge of chickening out and putting my old sweats on, I took a deep breath, bit my lip, and came around the corner.
Ethan was fast asleep on the couch, snoring softly.
I went over to look down at him, “Ethan?” He didn’t stir.
I sat down by his side and studied him. His skin was tanned brown from working in the sun, and a lock of his tousled blonde hair fell across his forehead. I brushed it back and softly kissed his brow, drawing back to study his face. I remembered the first time I saw him, and how handsome he was; now that I knew him, he was even more beautiful to me.
I reached for a soft throw blanket, standing over him and admiring his strong arms and chest before lifting up his feet and slipping off his shoes. I covered him up with a sigh, pulling the blanket under his chin and tucking it around his side. He looked so perfect, sleeping peacefully, but I could see that he was driving himself to the point of exhaustion, and I knew that it was all my fault.
I went to go change back into my sweatpants, frowning as I pulled on my oversized T-shirt. Ethan had always been a hard worker, but he used to take the time to surf and hang out with friends. Ever since we’d made a vow to stay together forever, he’d changed. Was this what the future held for him, a relentless, pleasure-less grind?
I looked in the mirror and grimaced; apparently my sex-appeal was no match for my muse powers. If I married Ethan, I’d be dooming him to a life sentence of hard labor. I shuddered, imagining the endless toil grinding him down, robbing him of his youth, and aging him before his time.
Only seven full moons had passed since the mermaid council presented me with their ultimatum. That left me with over three more years to decide– three years to watch Ethan wear himself out while growing more and more attached to me. Tears filled my eyes.