“Fine,” I snapped. “Apology accepted. But you’re still a spineless popinjay.”
A muscle leapt in his jaw. “No one has ever accused me of cowardice before.”
Because no else dared. Every square inch of Henry defied the very term. I crossed my arms in a huff. “Well, I guess there’s a first for everything.”
A simmering silence hung between us, so intense it felt like we had been separated by a tangible object. My heart pounded uncomfortably, ticking away the seconds that seemed to stretch on for hours as I waited for him to speak next.
“What else would you have me say?” he asked at last.
I gaped at him, surprised that he could be so obtuse. What else, indeed!
A familiar voice wormed its way into my thoughts. Henry is no different than my father. Once your power proved inconvenient, he declared it to be unnatural. He will never understand you. I despised myself for listening, but try as I might, I could not quiet Julian’s suspicions.
Angry tears pricked at my eyes. “Have you already forgotten our argument the night I healed the boy?”
The harsh lines in Henry’s face softened to an expression of profound sadness. Startled by the change, my own anger deflated like a leaky bellows, and I suddenly felt very small.
Taking his eyes from mine, he settled his gaze on the floor. “Of course not.”
The voice spoke again, more menacing this time. How long will it take before he casts you off just as my father did to my mother?
My mouth went dry and a small lump formed in the base of my throat. “And have you changed your mind about what you said?”
Henry spread his hands in supplication. “We may never be able to reconcile our differences from that night—”
A sob wrenched from my throat. Time stood still, and I stared at him, utterly motionless except for the blood pounding in my ears. Never reconcile. “No,” I whispered, “please, no.”
“Will you not at least try to understand?”
The blood pounded even louder, and I shook my head to make it stop.
“Be reasonable, Selah! I’m a man for pity’s sake, not some statue carved of stone.”
The walls of the room pressed in like a cage. Desperate to escape, I retreated a step, and bumped my calves into the armchair. Turning toward the door, I made to leave when a hand shot out and grabbed me by the waist.
I jerked back. “Let go!”
He held fast and pulled me to him before I managed another step. “Aren’t we past this yet, or do you plan to run away every time we have a disagreement?”
“I’m not running away,” I cried. “I’m leaving!”
“You’ll do neither until—”
His remaining words came out in a grunt of pain as the toe of my shoe cracked into his shin. Feeling his hold slacken, I turned toward the door, when my feet flew up from floor. Before I realized what was happening, I found myself cradled in Henry’s arms, pressed hard to his chest.
My breath came in rapid, shallow gasps. Wrestling my hands free, I beat against him. “Put me down! I won’t stay here!”
Henry’s arms tightened around me. “Oh, yes you will. You’ll stay until I’m done speaking. Then you can decide whether or not to leave.”
He might as well have been made of stone, and his arms iron manacles for all the chance I had of escaping. I stopped struggling and tried to gain my freedom another way. “Henry, please let me go,” I said, forcing each word past the painful lump in my throat. “I can’t stay here any longer.”
“Why not?” he asked incredulously.
“Because I can’t bear what you have to say.” I squirmed again, only to feel his arms grow tighter. “Let me go,” I sobbed. “Julian tried to warn me, but I refused to listen. I never believed you could do this to me.”
“Do what?” Henry asked, his voice growing louder with exasperation.
“Toss me aside the first time my gift proved inconvenient!”
Henry inhaled a sharp breath. “Dear Lord, Selah. Is that what you thought I meant?” He sank into the armchair, holding me firmly on his lap. Moving one hand to my head, he pulled me close enough to press his mouth into my hair. “You’re shaking all over.”
Small spasms radiated from deep inside me, spreading to every muscle until my body quaked from head to toe. Even my voice shook when I next spoke. “You said yourself that we could never reconcile our differences.”