Counterfactual

04 | psychomancy

CHAPTER FOUR

PSYCHOMANCY

( — occult communication between souls or with spirits. )

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          SAD TO SEE YOU GO, HAPPY TO WATCH YOU LEAVE. Though it certainly sounds terrible and it doesn't match the image of supportive parents the Underwoods want to give out, Rowan knows for a fact that's how they're feeling after he breaks it all down to them. He's moving to Vofield, Nova Scotia for a still undetermined period of time to write the book for Gabriel Guerreiro, and no, he certainly won't come home for the holidays.

          It's not just because he knows he'll lose his train of thought if he keeps running between the two places. It's also because Jasper St. Claire is coming home for Christmas—thankfully not Thanksgiving, but the Underwoods don't really celebrate it—and Rowan plain and simply refuses to be in the same state as her at the same time, knowing just how easily things can go back to how they used to be.

          They say the past needs to remain where it belongs for an extremely good reason and Rowan hasn't been in the mood to deal with his for over two years. Therefore, he's determined to let Jasper do her own thing while he does his—preferably while being several miles away from one another, for the sake of both his sanity and hers and that damn book he's writing.

          He doesn't care how petty and ridiculous they might think he's being. If he doesn't want to be around the devil herself, with her pretty blonde head and her bestseller, then he's taking matters into his own hands. He's going somewhere where she can't follow him—unless she tracks him down or, if you want to put it even more nicely, stalks the hell out of him, and follows him to Nova Scotia.

          Rowan's stomach turns just by picturing Jasper walking around a Christmas tree, hanging the decorations and asking him to stop sulking just because it's time for celebrating, not for staring lovingly at his own reflection. That's what happened on their last Christmas together and his mouth tastes like death with the bitter flavor of those memories, so he always forces himself to think about something else—anything else that doesn't remind him of whatever feelings he harbored for that girl.

          He has always loved himself the most, anyway, and, at the end of the day, that's all that matters to him. His self-love, the number of hours he spends hunched over in front of a laptop and damaging his spine, and all he has accomplished out of pure, raw talent, not sheer luck, which is what fills Jasper's side of the battlefield.

          If he focuses enough, he can still feel the sweet scent of her floral perfume, even if she was a rose with more thorns than petals—delicate at first glance, but deadly once you got close enough. That's what drew him to her in the first place, as she was the only person to date who gave him a run for his money in the ego department, and he found it frankly amusing to be in constant competition with her.

          Though she ended up winning, broke whatever was left of his heart, and made sure to repeatedly throw the remains to his face and step all over it, he didn't resent her at first. Not completely, at least. During the months he spent feeling miserable and pitying himself, he was also disgusted with how much power he was giving her, when they should have always been equals. Regardless of how good she was, regardless of how her true colors came to light, he should have never let her kick him down to the bottom of the well.

          She didn't have the right to screw him over, especially the way she did.

          "To hell with Jasper," he used to say, whenever he felt himself returning to rock-bottom. It's a habit he has carried with him since then and, unsurprisingly, it has been doing wonders for him, even if he still can't totally say he's fully over her and what he did or that he doesn't give a damn about what she does or about what she doesn't do.