Juliet Immortal

well stay in love with Ariel when the soul he’s really fallen for is gone.
    The idea is an imperfect flower blooming in my mind. People don’t always end up with their true love. There are hundreds of perfectly suited pairs who never reach the place in their relationship that attracts the attention of the light and the dark. Once Romeo and I have been summoned, it’s always been too late for a peaceful parting, but what if …
    What if I take Romeo out of the equation? Would Gemmago to Stanford in a few months, leaving Ben and Ariel to see where their life—and love—will take them? An eye for an eye is surely fair, no matter what Nurse says. And Nurse isn’t here, and the Ambassadors can’t be trusted, and I can’t fathom a world without Ben.
    Even if I can’t be in the world with him.
    Even if I have to give him to another girl to love.
    I clutch my own stomach, trying to keep my insides from spilling out onto the floor. It’s an almost unbearable thought, but what if …
    “I think you’re beautiful. I’ve always told you that,” Melanie whispers. I look up to see silent tears running down her face, a perfect mirror of my own grief.
    I want to do something to make the tears stop, but I can’t. I can’t force the lie from my throat. “No, you haven’t,” I say. “I can’t remember a single time. Not one single time in my entire life.”
    Melanie’s face crumples, every soft line around her eyes and mouth cloning itself until her expression is wrinkled with misery. “I … I’m sorry.” Her lips curl away from her teeth as she begins to sob—silently at first and then in low, choked bellows that make my throat hurt just to hear them.
    She
is
sorry. She really is. And I am too.
    I reach for her, putting my arm around her back, my forehead on her thin shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want it to be like this anymore. I want to be different. I want
us
to be different.”
    Melanie’s hand lands lightly on my arm. “I love you. You know that, right?” She pulls away, her tear-streaked face stark, earnest. “I have
always
loved you. Even when I wished I had more time or more money or more help … I never regrettedmy decision.” She sucks in a breath and reaches for a crumpled napkin sitting in the cup holder between us. “But you’re right … I have regretted other things. Too much, maybe. I just … I always thought …”
    “Thought what?”
    Her red eyes fill with tears again. “I always thought you hated me. For all the pain I’d caused you. When you were little you’d scream and reach for me in the hospital, but I couldn’t take you out of the bed. I couldn’t hold you, and I thought … I swear I saw you decide to hate me right there.”
    “Mom, no. Of course I didn’t. I
don’t.
” God, I never would have thought …
    I suddenly feel like a fool, a cruel fool who only sees the world from her own point of view. Just like Gemma. It makes me wonder what else I’ve seen through warped glass. What if I had tried to talk to my own mother all those years ago instead of lashing out and running away? Could things have been better? Might we have discovered we weren’t so different or distant as we thought?
    For the first time since I was a girl, I long for the chance to see my mother’s face, to look into her eyes and see if it was hate or fear or regret that made them so cold. I’ll never know if I could have reached Lady Capulet, but I can reach Melanie. Right here. Right now.
    “It wasn’t your fault,” I say, willing her to believe me. “It was an accident.”
    “No, it wasn’t.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with the tight ball the napkin has become. “I mean, it was, but I’d had three glasses of wine on an empty stomach. I wasn’t drunk, but …” She sniffs again and her next breath catches in her throat. “But if I hadn’t had that last glass, maybe I wouldn’t have lost mygrip. Maybe I wouldn’t have spilled it. Maybe I wouldn’t have carried the stupid pot to the sink in the first—”
    “Mom. Stop.” I reach for her hand, but she waves me away.
    “But it’s true.” She curls her spine, hiding her face. “You should know the truth. You—”
    “Mom. I don’t care.” I lean down to catch her eyes, to make certain she knows Ariel doesn’t harbor the slightest resentment. At least, not about the accident. “And you can’t do this to yourself. All those maybes aren’t going to change anything. You’ve made