Soulmates & Twin Flames

12 - Witchcraft

I like Daniel, and the way he looks at my best friend. When Olga speaks, Daniel stops and listens like her voice is the only thing that matters in the universe.

Now, that's love.

I know deep in my heart that given the chance, Roman and I could have the same thing. It still hurts when I think about him.

But tonight, we concentrate on Daniel. It's his thirtieth birthday and we are celebrating on a rooftop downtown with a costume party.

"Long live Hercules!" we cry and raise our neon-green drinks up to the starry sky. Daniel is our spiky haired Hercules in a toga dress with bad-ass tattoos covering his muscular arms.

Absinthe makes us roar. Olga's wings flutter behind her green fairy dress as she hands us sugar spoons to neutralize the hellfire in our throats.

"You did shots without me!" protests someone, and when I turn around, I meet Nate's handsome face and crooked smile. "Hey, Abby."

He leans in and lands a kiss on my cheek. He is wearing a white lab coat with a stethoscope and a giant, glittery human heart hanging around his neck.

"Are you dressed as a heart surgeon?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Yeah." He grins.

Of course he is. He's even brought a couple of sexy nurses with him.

"Are you scheduled for a double heart surgery tonight, doctor?" I ask, elbowing his arm.

"Maybe." He chuckles uncomfortably, pats the top of his head, and steps away from his dates. They don't seem to mind Nate's absence while they sip their champagnes and chat with each other in a different language. "And what kind of witch are you?" Nate asks. He is eyeing my black corset, mini tulle skirt, and leather garters.

I shoot him an innocent smile. "The kind that steals hearts." Wiggling my fingers, I make a move for the heart dangling across his chest, but Nate catches my hand in mid-air.

"You must tell me what kind of potion you're brewing first."

The way his lips twitch into a smile reminds me of Roman. I blink away the memory of his brother and present Nate my cauldron shaped bag. "A love potion," I say. "Though the bar has pretty great cocktails. I'm going to get myself a strawberry mojito."

"Mojito!" He throws his head up in a wicked laughter and rubs his hands.

He is a man-child! A hot, silly, and funny one. I burst out laughing, take his hand, and lead him to the bar.

Nate leans over the counter to order our drinks. His dark hair is gelled back tonight. I prefer it messy, with strands falling onto his forehead. The shape of his thick eyebrows is similar to his brother's, except Nate's are not fixed in a constant frown. If anything, they seem constantly amused.

Nate grins when he catches me staring.

I chuckle and reach for his stethoscope. "Being a doctor suits you."

"Oh yeah?"

"You are good at delivering bad news," I say, but then bite my lip. The memory of how Nate had delivered the news of Tiffany and Roman starts playing in my mind. "I mean, I wouldn't mind taking bad news from a hot doctor like you. It softens the gravity of the situation." Am I—Jeez, why am I flirting with him?

Nate grins and plugs the stethoscope into his ears. "May I?"

I nod and let him place the cold end against my chest—on the soft bump where my corset pushes up my breasts.

After listening carefully for a moment, he dramatically shakes his head and looks into my eyes. "You may be suffering from a broken heart."

Blood rushes to my face. I know it's meant to be a joke, a meaningless flirt, but hearing Nate's diagnosis hurts. Perhaps I'm not great at handling bad news, no matter how hot the doctor is. I force a smile and push the diaphragm off my chest.

Good thing, my strawberry mojito is ready, and it's the sweetest medicine.

A half-hearted smile replaces Nate's grin as I sip my drink. "My dream was to become a doctor," he says, and when I raise a brow in question, he nods, shuffling in his place. "I was accepted to Yale med-school, but later, I had to switch to journalism when Dad passed away...to help Roman with the magazine."

"I'm sorry," I say. "Would you rather be a doctor?"

He purses his bottom lip as if he's considering the thought. "I love the magazine. But I wonder how my life would be if Dad was alive, sometimes." He sips his drink. "What about you? Would you rather be something else?"

"Nah, I love what I do. Cutting scenes and perfecting details... Seeing perfection on the screen and knowing that I did that... The fulfillment is beyond words."

He starts smiling.

"And the best part is," I continue, "I don't have to take shit from anybody."

"Now, I want to work in your field," Nate says, and makes me giggle. "I'm glad you are living your best life."

My smile turns sour. My best life as a flawed bitch who doesn't deserve to be loved.

"Is there such a thing as the best life, though?" I ask. "Don't you have any regrets?"

"Of course I do," he says. "But I can't miss out on the moment by feeling sorry for some life I never had."

This deserves a toast. I raise my glass with a know-it-all grin. "Cheers to that."

Nate chuckles and clinks his cocktail with mine. Then he pulls his necklace and takes the sparkling heart off. "Here, it's yours. For whatever potion you're brewing," he says, and hangs the heavy chain around my neck.

"Thanks, Nate." I toss my hair out of the necklace with an awkward chuckle. I'm holding Nate's heart in my hands!

"See you around, Abby." He winks, then turns around and walks over to Daniel and Olga at the far end of the bar. Throwing his arms around their shoulders, he whispers something into their ears and makes them laugh. I sip my sweet, icy drink and smile. Nate seems like a good friend—the sweet, genuine kind.

I run my fingers on the sparkly red beads around my new necklace, then dive into the crowd. This witch ain't brewing tonight, and she won't for a while. Love potions can wait because they won't work on a broken heart.