Avery stood in the doorway like she owned the place.
She looked…exactly the same and completely different.
Her hair was in a sleek bob now instead of long waves, her lipstick a sharp, glossy red. She wore a camel coat over a fitted dress, and heels that definitely weren’t designed for cobblestones. She’d always had a way of looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine, even in a town where wellies were considered formal wear.
Her gaze swept the room and, for one blissful second, I thought maybe she hadn’t seen me.
Then her eyes landed on our wee huddle by the bar.
On me.
On my hand, which was currently resting on the small of Liora’s back.
Everything in her expression sharpened.
“Oh,” she said, loud enough to cut through the hum. “Well. Isn’t this cozy?”
Conversations faltered. Heads turned. You could feel the pub’s attention swivel, the way a forest goes quiet when a predator appears.
Liora’s back tensed under my palm. She went rigid and then turned.
“Evening, Avery,” I said, praying she wouldn’t make a scene, but already getting an idea of where this was heading. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m back to visit my auntie. But the real question should be what areyoudoing here?” she demanded. “You hate trivia.”
“I do not hate trivia,” I said, truth spell dragging the words into something more honest. “I hatelosingat trivia.”
“Same, mate,” Graham muttered.
Avery stalked closer, heels clicking on the worn floorboards. “So, it seems you two couldn’t keep away from each other after all.”
“Avery.” Agnes’s voice held a warning. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m late to the starting, apparently,” Avery said sharply. She looked me up and down, then Liora. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you? Either of you. Full circle. Poetic.”
I felt every eye in the place on us. Old memories stirred—the whispers from years ago. Did he? Didn’t he?
All I wanted to do was protect Liora from Avery. I didn’t have to look at her face to know she was already pulling further into herself to hide from Avery’s words.
“We never cheated,” I said, the truth spell making my voice come out rough and uncompromising. “Neverhave I lied to you, Avery. And if you were even an ounce of the woman I once thought you were, you’d admit that.”
Avery’s laugh was brittle. “Right. Of course. Like I didn’t see the way you looked at her?” She shifted her gaze to Liora. “And you just happened to show me the reading where your chart aligned perfectly with his for what? Just out of the goodness of your heart, right?”
“I didn’t—” Liora started and I turned to see the color draining from her face.
“You did,” Avery cut in, sweet as vinegar. She tilted her head. “What do they call you onWitchTok? The Heartbreak Witch?”
A ripple went through the crowd. Someone at a nearby table muttered, “Oh shite,” under their breath.
Liora flinched like she’d been slapped.
Graham leaned forward. “Okay, that’s enough. You don’t get to come in here and start slagging off my staff.”
“Your staff?” Avery arched a brow. “Is that what we’re calling her now?”
“Aye. That’s exactly what we’re calling her,” he said, steady. “She pulls her weight, she’s kind to my customers, and she doesn’t talk rubbish about people in the middle of my establishment. You want a drink, you queue like everyone else. You want to fight, take it outside and not in my pub.”
There was a murmur of agreement. Agnes stood, small frame radiating a surprising amount of menace.