Quarante-Huit

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I stared at the words on the page and then smiled as I wrote ‘The End’ beneath them. It was finished. It had taken a little over a month to write it out by hand, which wasn’t long at all. It had surprised me how little time it had taken. I hadn’t written ‘The End’ at the end of a book for years.

Ecstatic energy just seemed to rush over me as I grabbed the book and headed downstairs. As I reached the bottom of the stairs and headed to the living room, I froze.
“Jack?”
“Hi,” he said, smiling at me. He didn’t seem hostile like before. “You seem rather happy.”
“I just finished writing my book,” I told him. He was acting rather differently and it was weird. It wasn’t what I had expected from him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Deuc standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Liza,” he greeted with a smile. “Jack and I have been talking, he seems to think it was another wendigo, like you had suggested, since we’ve ruled out Briar having any involvement.”

Briar. The local witch wasn’t a fever dream. I had asked Deuc the next day and he had confirmed it had all been real, and he had pointed out that I wasn’t likely to have a fever because of the healing powers I now possessed.

“That’s good, right?” I said, looking at them both for confirmation. Jack nodded.
“Yeah, it is,” he said. “I also wanted to apologise for the other day. Tasha and I had been… well, have been having some problems lately and it’s not an excuse but it’s been getting me a little more worked up than usual.”
I nodded. “That’s okay,” I said quietly with a smile.
“And Deuc’s right, I shouldn’t judge you on your family. It seems kind of like a cult so… yeah,” he said.

Knowing about Jack’s family, I nodded.
“Sometimes it’s difficult to break free from what you’re raised as,” I said and he nodded in agreement. Difficult had been an understatement but I knew there were people who had it far worse than I did.
“Yeah.”

“And it seems Deuc has a rather annoying habit of being right a lot of the time,” I said, turning to look at him. He chuckled and shook his head. But he had been right about how unhappy I was, and that Gerard would have been at the hospital. And even that Jack would realise he was wrong.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t got a bigger ego,” said Jack, laughing a little.
“Maybe he’s just good at hiding it,” I said. Jack nodded, he didn’t seem too bad now.
“Of course he would be.”

“I’m beginning to not like this conversation,” Deuc said but he was smiling. I walked over to him, still holding the notebook in my hand.
“I’m sorry, mon chéri,” I said before kissing him on the cheek. His smile widened.

“I should probably go,” said Jack as he headed to the door. “I promised Tasha I’d do the shopping.” He sounded rather sad about it and I frowned. He had mentioned him and Tasha had been arguing lately.
“See you soon then,” I said. I wished I could have talked to him a little more but he had things to do and I had the ending of my book to read to Deucalion.
“Goodbye, Jack,” said Deuc. Jack nodded and said goodbye before heading to the front door.

Hearing the front door shut, Deuc wrapped his arms around me.
“I heard you finished writing your book,” he said. Of course he had heard me tell Jack that.
“I have,” I said, enthusiastically nodding.
“You’re smiling.”
“I am,” I said. “I haven’t finished writing a book like this in… four or five years?”
“Oh, this is special then,” he said with a smile on his face.
“I guess so,” I said with a slight shrug.

“Special enough for a drink?” he asked as he took a step back into the kitchen.
“I don’t drink,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Well, I just kind of get all sad and mopey when I drink,” I admitted. I usually ended up crying about how I felt like a murderer, despite not actually killing anyone myself.
“So it’s not because you don’t like the taste?” he asked as he headed over to a cupboard.
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.”

He smiled as he grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey. “Then you’ll be delighted to find out that it won’t make a difference any more, you can’t get drunk.”
“I can’t?” I asked as I walked over to him.
“You heal too quickly to get drunk, essentially,” Deuc explained and I smiled. I guess I didn’t have to worry about crying or anything then.
“What drinks do you have then?”

I put the glass of gin down on a coaster next to his whiskey and then snuggled in next to him. He had offered a gin and tonic but I told him tonic water was disgusting.
“I wouldn’t have thought you liked gin,” he said as I opened the notebook and flicked through the pages to find where I had stopped reading to him last time.
“Really?” I asked. Deuc nodded. “Well, can I read, mon chéri?”
“Of course you can, my love.”

So I read to him.

When I stopped, it was silent and I anxiously waited for his opinion on the ending.
“I liked that,” he said. “It’s a good ending.”
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I stared at the book, still finding it difficult to accept I had finished it. “Yeah? I’m glad you liked it.”
“Does it matter if I like it?” he asked.
“Of course it does,” I said without hesitating. I cared about his opinions. “And it is getting dedicated to you, I at least want you to like it.”

“But it’s your book,” he said.
“I know,” I said, finally looking away from the notebook. His eyes looked like they usually did and I couldn’t look away. I wondered what his eyes looked like before, what colour they were. But I didn’t see the point in asking. “But I care about what you think about it. And it means a lot to me that you do like it.” He smiled and then kissed my forehead.

“Are you going to ask me the usual questions?” he asked.
“Of course I am, favourite scene, favourite character, come on,” I said before leaning forward to drink more of the gin he had given me.
“You know my favourite scene.”

I sighed. I did know. He had answered the same thing every time I had asked, with no exceptions. “Let me guess, the waterfall?”
“Yes,” he said. “And I know you’re smiling despite that sigh.” I shook my head, he always knew when I was smiling from how I talked. I put the glass back on the coaster and turned to look at him again.

“Why is that always your favourite?”
“It’s because I could see it, when you first read it to me. And as good as your other descriptions are, I can still see that waterfall so clearly,” Deuc said softly and it sounded sincere. I wasn’t sure how to respond at first.
“I didn’t know that before,” I said. He just smiled.

“What about character then? Do you still like Jona?” I asked. He shook his head.
“No, his betrayal wasn’t an accident like they thought,” he said. “He had meant to ruin their plans. But he is still an interesting character.”
“Who’s your favourite then?” I asked.
“Kit,” he said. “They’re interesting, I like their redemption.”
I smiled, that meant I had written the redemption arc well enough for him. “I can see why you’d like them.” Kit was determined and polite, despite their habit of stealing anything they felt like stealing.

I looked at him for a moment before moving closer and kissing him, I could taste the whiskey on his lips.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I just wanted to,” I said honestly. Then, he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting him to. “What was that for?”
I laughed at his response: “I just wanted to.”

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