The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic

by Breanne Randall

“Sadie,” he said, concern in his voice. Like it wasn’t the first time he’d said her name. “I’m okay,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m fine.” She sleepily wondered when that lie had gotten so easy to tell. “My whole life, I’ve always felt like I was a step behind where I was supposed to be,” he said, and even though it seemed to come from nowhere, she listened. “When everything happened with Bethany I thought … hell. Get married. Have a kid. And even though something was missing, I knew I couldn’t put my own kid through a broken home. I wanted the happy ever after. I want to be a dad. But, when Seth called me”—he put his hand over his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose—“I almost lost it, Sade. You’re the love of my life.” His voice broke, and it sounded like waves crashing. Waves Sadie wanted to swim in. Let the undertow drag her down until she was suffocating with the beauty of it. But maybe that was the tea. “So, tell me,” he said after a beat, “what am I supposed to do here?” “I don’t know,” she whispered. “You always know.”