I watch as Damen leans forward, his gaze intent, face earnest, determined to get right to the point when he says, “I’m guessing you really must hate me by now.”

But if Jude’s surprised by the words, he doesn’t show it. He just shrugs, leans back in his seat, and rests his hands flat against his stomach. His fingers splayed across the colorful mandala symbol that blazes across his white tee.

“And it’s not that I’d blame you if you did,” Damen says, eyes steady, focused on Jude. “Because I’ve no doubt committed my share of hateful acts over the last—” He glances briefly at me, still unused to voicing it out loud, even though he finds himself doing so more and more these days. “Over the last six

hundred and some odd years.” He sighs.

Both of us watching as Jude tilts his seat back as far as it will go, taking a moment to gaze up at the ceiling, pushing his fingers into a steeple, before the whole thing collapses and he drops forward again, his gaze boring into Damen’s when he says, “Dude, seriously, what’s that about?”

Damen squints, as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. This was a bad idea. We never should’ve come here like this.

But Jude just leans forward, sliding his elbows across his desk, pushing his dreadlocks off his face as he adds, “Really, what’s thatlike ?”

Damen nods, making some kind of sound between a grunt and a laugh, instantly relaxing as the tension drains from his face and he settles farther back in his seat. Propping his foot on his knee, snapping the bottom of his flip-flop back and forth against his heel, he shrugs and says, “Well, I guess you could say it’s been—” He pauses, searching for just the right word. “Long.” He laughs, eyes creasing at the sides.

“It’s been…really,really long, in fact.”

Jude looks at him, nodding in a way that shows he wants to hear more, and Damen obliges, picking at the frayed and broken hem on his faded old jeans, when he adds, “And, to be honest, well, sometimes it’s a little exhausting. And sometimes it feels more than a little defeating—especially when you’re forced to watch the same old tired mistakes being made over and over again with the same lousy excuses to support them.” He shakes his head, lost in a stream of memories most people only learn about through history books. His expression instantly transforming, brightening, when he smiles and says, “And those are just the mistakesI’ve made.” He meets Jude’s gaze. “But then, there are also moments of such extreme beauty and joy that, well, it really does make it all seem worthwhile, you know?”

Jude nods, more in contemplation than agreement, as though he’s still taking it in, considering the statement.

Though it’s enough to prompt Damen to say, “Why, you interested? You want to give it a go?”

Jude and I both look at him, eyes wide, unable to tell if he’s serious.

“Because I can set you up. I know a guy…”

And it’s not until his lips curl into a grin, that I realize he’s joking, and I settle back with relief.

“But the thing is,” Damen says, back to being serious again. “In the end, it’s pretty much all the same. I may live for centuries, you may live for three quarters of a century, but both of us will always find ourselves preoccupied with whatever’s immediately before us—or, more often than not, whatever seems just out of reach…”

We sit there in silence, the words hanging heavy between us, as I gaze down at my knees, too uncomfortable to look anywhere else. Knowing that this is the moment we came for, that Damen’s fully prepared to offer whatever explanation or apology Jude might demand.

But Jude just sits there, picking at a stray paper clip he found on his desk, twisting, and bending, and totally reshaping it until it’s completely unrecognizable from its original form.

Finally looking up when he says, “I get it.” He glances between us, focusing on me until I lift my head and meet his gaze. “Really, I do.” His face so sincere I’ve no doubt he means it. “But if you came here to apologize or try to make up for it or—whatever—you should probably forget it.”

I suck in my breath, as Damen sits perfectly still, waiting for him to continue.

“I mean, I’m not gonna lie, the whole thing sucks for me.” He tries to laugh but doesn’t quite make it.

His heart isn’t in it. “But still, I really do get it. I know it wasn’t just a matter of playing fair or not playing fair. I know it wasn’t just about your immense wealth and magick tricks. And I also know it was probably extremely unfair of me to pretend that it was. Because the thing is, Ever isn’t that shallow.

Neither was Evaline or any of the rest of them.” His eyes meet mine, and they’re filled with such warmth and kindness and love, it’s impossible to look away. “The only reason I never stood a chance with her is because it was never meant to be me. It was always supposed to be the two of you.”

I exhale slowly, my shoulders sinking, stomach settling, releasing a tension I wasn’t even aware I was holding ’til now.

“And the fire—” Damen starts, desperate to explain that as well.

But Jude dismisses it just as quickly, waving his hand before us. “I know about that too—thanks to Summerland and the Great Halls of Learning.” He shrugs. “I’ve been spending a lot of time there lately, maybe too much time, or at least that’s been Ava’s concern. But, sometimes, well, sometimes, or at least lately anyway, I’d rather be there than here. I guess that’s why I’m so fascinated by your extra long life. I mean, I don’t know how you do it when there are definitely times when the regular life span feels like more than enough, you know?”