A Matter of Forever (Fate, #4)

Raul stands up; Cora follows. “I’m on it, brother.”


My oldest friend comes over to hug me before they leave. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmurs into my hair. “For the both of you. I know it’s going to be hard, but ... as shitty as tonight may seem, as awful as everything we’ve just learned, try to hold onto the happiness I know you two have finally allowed yourselves to accept. You’re technically still on your honeymoon, you know.”

I kiss her cheek before we let go of one another. She’s so sweet to say this, even though I doubt there will be celebrations on our behalves tonight. I tell her, instead, that I hope we’ll get to hang out soon.

She and Raul leave; the Graystones are close on their heels after Jonah and Karl have a quiet discussion off to the side. Moira tries her best to distract me, and I humor her by asking about Emily’s latest antics. And then, they’re gone, too, Erik as well, and we’re left with just our family.

While I was saying goodbye to everyone, Cameron fixed up a tray of tea and biscuits Will baked earlier in the day; Astrid helps him pour and pass out cups.

“Where did you two end up going?” she asks Jonah, as if we hadn’t just been told a baby had been ripped out of its mother and had its life force sucked out of it. But Astrid Lotus doesn’t have a cruel bone in her entire body. She’s saying this because she’s worried about us. I get that. I do.

But it doesn’t mean I’m not imagining that house of horrors as he tells her, “Rome.”

As she adds honey to her tea, she smiles genuine and wide. “Oh, sweetling, that pleases me so much to finally hear.”

A small miracle occurs, because my husband blushes. Callie laughs, saying, “It took you getting married to crack, huh?”

Will leans back into the couch, curling his fingers around the mug. “I suspect there’s a story here.”

“There is no story,” Jonah insists at the same time Callie says, “Jonah’s Italian.”

The corners of Will’s lips quirk upward. “And ... obviously all Italians must honeymoon in Italy?”

Callie throws her biscuit at him. I totally interpret that as foreplay.

“You know,” Jonah says, “it’s not the first time I’ve been there.”

“The first time voluntarily,” Callie counters.

Huh? “Actually,” I tell her, “we went there last summer.”

Both Astrid and Callie’s eyes widen. “Oh, sweetling,” Astrid says. She’s surprisingly misty-eyed. “That’s so wonderful to hear. Just ...” She lays an elegant hand over her heart. “So wonderful.”

I turn toward Jonah, who is busying himself with sugar cubes he doesn’t particularly like in his tea. Am I missing something?

Finally, he looks up at Astrid and says quietly, “You were right.”

All of that misty-eyed countenance turns downright teary.

To the rest of us, he says, “Kellan and I were always a little ... resistant, I guess, to going to Italy.” One of the sugar cubes loses shape between his fingertips. “Italy, to us, represented our mother, so it was ...” He shrugs. “Painful, I suppose.” He looks up, smiles fondly at the woman who raised him. “Any time we went, it was because our uncle or Astrid dragged us there. They thought someday we’d appreciate it, see the value of,”—he chuckles quietly—“our heritage.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I remember once, when I was maybe ... ten? Eleven? My uncle was on a mission, so was my aunt, so Astrid brought Callie, Kel and me to Rome for our every other month weekend of so-called bonding with our familial heritage.”

“Oh my gods!” Callie smacks the arms of her chair. “I totally remember this one.” Smirking, she glances over at her mother. “It was the first time I ever heard you yell at him. Like, really yell—red in the face, voice at the top of your lungs, fists clenched yell.” She chortles.

Astrid merely sips her tea, the corners of her lips hinting at her amusement.

Jonah’s own smile is wry. “Yes, well, I deserved it after the ... uh ...”

“Tantrum,” Callie says helpfully. “Melt down. Hissy fit.”

I can’t help but laugh along with her. “You had a tantrum? At eleven?”

“It was glorious,” Callie says. “See, I was normally the rabble-rouser. Kellan would have his snit fits, too. But J? He made the rest of us look like brats. So for this to happen—in public no less—”

I’m laughing so hard right now. “You didn’t!”

Before Jonah can answer, Callie says slyly, “Oh, yes. This was in the middle of the Forum, while Mom was lecturing us about Roman Republic history. She figured that, while we were there, we might as well get a history lesson, too. Kill two birds with one stone and all.”

Astrid’s smile is serene. She’s utterly unapologetic.

“But please, J—continue,” Callie says, motioning toward him.

He rolls his eyes and they bicker for another minute, but honestly? It’s done in an indulgent way, which warms my heart. They’re acting like ... old friends. Good friends.