They stared at each other, ten years of friendship and trust hanging in the balance.
Cabe expelled a long breath. “Okay, for now. But”—he pointed his finger at her—“you’re telling me everything tonight. Everything.”
Her eyes teared up and she nodded. “I will. I promise.” She gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.”
Cabe hugged her back and got on his bike. “Just go talk to Bren. You two can fix whatever is broken.”
All she could do was nod, her tears falling freely. It felt like everything in her life was breaking and she didn’t know if any of it could be fixed.
As she watched Cabe bike away, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake by letting him take the cards. She almost called him back, but he was too far away. Then he turned the corner and was gone.
She stared at the spot where he had been seconds before; it was now just an empty stretch of sidewalk on a gray day in New York.
A feeling of déjà vu descended on her.
Somehow the image already existed in her mind, like a postcard she would never forget. The wind whipped around her, making her turn toward the shelter of the café. She wiped her eyes and forced herself to go back and face Bren.
*
Semele approached the table and slid into the booth. “Sorry about that,” she said. He didn’t answer. She looked down, avoiding his eyes.
“Why are you doing this?” Bren finally asked, his voice breaking. “I thought we were happy.”
“We were happy.” She was quick to agree, bracing herself for the impending avalanche.
“Was it meeting my parents? Moving in together? What?”
Semele shook her head.
“Because as far as I’m concerned that is just the beginning. I’m crazy about you. Want to know how crazy?” He reached into his pocket and put a box on the table.
Semele stared at the ring she had already foreseen. There it was.
That little black box said everything. I love you. Whatever you’re going through, I love you. We can get through this together. Four velvet walls full of forgiveness. All she had to do was take it.
“I bought it while you were in Switzerland,” he admitted. “I thought maybe this Christmas I’d put it in your stocking.” He stopped talking, becoming emotional again. “I can’t believe this is happening. Please, Sem. Don’t do this.”
Her silence seemed to be causing him physical pain. He grew pale and let out a deep breath. Seeing him suffering like this was unbearable. She didn’t care about protecting her secret anymore. She only knew she had to explain herself, to relieve him from this pain she was inflicting.
“I’m going to tell you the truth, even though you won’t believe it,” she said before she lost her nerve. “Sometimes I have visions of the future. I’ve had them all my life. I trained myself not to over time, but they’ve started coming back.” She risked a glance at him.
He was looking at her dumbfounded.
“I had one of you. A strong one.” Her voice wavered. “You were married and very much in love with someone. And it wasn’t me.”
Bren stared at her, hurt etched into his face.
“Say something. Please,” she begged. But he wouldn’t. She grew desperate and blurted, “You’re going to have two kids together!”
“God, you’re cruel.”
He thought she was joking. Semele put her head in her hands and let out a sound between a laugh and a cry. And for a split second she thought maybe he was right. Maybe the premonition was an excuse not to deal with her feelings. She had so many things going on in her life.… But then she saw what she saw, and if she were honest with herself, she had sensed the truth of their relationship from the start. Her father’s death earlier in the year was just the catalyst that made her to start to pull away.
“Are you on something?”
Semele shook her head, her heart aching at the anger emanating from him.
“You’re breaking up with me over a premonition?” He spit it out like a dirty word. “That’s insane!” He folded his arms and leaned back against the booth. “And you believe it?” His voice rose in outrage. “I don’t know what to say. What do you want me to say, Semele?”
“Nothing,” she said, unable to defend herself.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You’re unbelievable. I never thought you would do something like this.” He stared at her, his eyes cold and hard. “I thought I knew you. But I guess I don’t.” He stood and swiped the ring off of the table. Then he stormed out.
Semele could feel fresh tears stinging her eyes. In one conversation she had lost a lover and a friend, forever. Her whole life she had denied her intuition because facing it came at such a high price. Now all the memories rushed back. She remembered the feeling of knowing what she shouldn’t, and why she’d tried so hard to rid herself of her ability—because in the end no one understood. She was alone.
Message to VS—
Back in NY. Friend meeting her.
Reply from VS—
Does she have them?
Message to VS—
I’ll know soon.
The Star
Semele made her way to Cabe’s apartment, where she planned to camp out for the rest of the day. Her thoughts felt more weighted with every step. In her purse she had Macy’s dream stone, a picture of Nettie and her birth mother, and her father’s translation. That’s all she had.
She walked past The Third Eye, a bookstore in Brooklyn that also offered psychic readings. She had passed by it countless times but had never been inside. Without giving herself time to change her mind she went in.
Near the door, there was a bulletin board with the name and a short bio of each psychic that was available to give readings that day. Below their bios, the psychics had listed their expertise—if they specialized in palmistry, tarot, astrology charts, channeling, or past-life regression, or if they were clairaudient or clairvoyant.
Semele read the roster with raised eyebrows, about to lose her nerve. She chose a psychic named Doreen, who specialized primarily in tarot readings, and paid thirty dollars at the register for a thirty-minute consultation.
In the glass case by the register were over fifty different kinds of tarot decks with varying artwork. Semele leaned down to read some of the titles: the Crystal Tarot, the Mythic Tarot, the Fairytale Deck. There was also a Renaissance deck depicting Greek and Roman deities, and one designed to look like stained-glass windows. There were even steampunk and The Lord of the Rings decks—too many to choose from. She saw that they had a replica of the Visconti Deck, right next to the Tarot de Marseilles.
The shop clerk noticed her interest. “Rider-Waite is the perfect deck to start with. It’s the ABCs of tarot. A classic.”
Semele gave her a faint smile.
*