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Ari pushed the door of Anna’s bedroom open, stepping into the main room. Anna was sprawled across a chaise lounge and looked up when she heard the door creak.
“Good morning, Ari.”
“Anna, we need to speak,” Ari said, pacing over to sit across from Anna.
Anna raised a delicate eyebrow. “Are we not speaking right now, darling?”
Ari took a breath and steadied herself before continuing. “We need to speak about that.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Anna, I do not understand you.”
“I like to consider myself an unknowable presence. A mysterious gentleman. It contributes to my allure—”
“Please let me speak,” Ari bit out. It was harsher than she intended, but it did the job. “You are one of the kindest people I know. You care deeply for your friends, you help anyone who needs it, and you would protect the people you love with your life. You understand people so well and you make people feel special. But you have been so cruel to me ever since I recovered from the illness.”
“Was I? I thought I was simply being myself.”
Ari grit her teeth. “Anna, listen to me. I know I broke your heart. I know you enjoy your freedom. But you have spent so much of your time working to break me down. You used me, and you used my love for you, and now you won’t even speak of the last few months.”
At some point while Ari spoke, Anna broke eye contact, staring instead at her hands.
“If I were a stronger person, I would not have come here. If I were a stronger person, I could have gone to the Institute and stayed there. But I am not, and here I am, staying at your flat. I’m terribly foolish, aren’t I? But I remember how you were when I first met you, and I remember how you treated me when I first met you, and I remember you begging me not to die, and I am too faithful in people and too faithful in you to believe that you can never become that person again.
“I still love you, but if you are not willing to reopen your heart, then I will not punish myself for love. I want to give you another chance. So please, Anna, don’t prove me wrong.”
Anna was silent for a while. She still did not meet Ari’s gaze when she eventually spoke. “You have become bitter, Ari.”
Ari closed her eyes, taking a breath. “I have become kinder to myself. I will leave you with your thoughts, because I can tell that talking with you now will get both of us nowhere. When you are ready to speak to me—and ready to own up to your actions—I will be at the Institute. Thank you for letting me stay here for the past few days, but I do not think it would be wise to stay here any longer. Goodbye, Anna.”
Ari packed up her things and left Anna’s flat.
————
It was late December, and Ari only had on a light coat. By the time she had arrived at the London Institute, she was freezing, shrinking into herself in front of the hulking cathedral doors. Her hands shook as she knocked on the door.
After a few moments, Tessa Herondale pushed open the door, flanked by her husband, Will. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took in the scene before her. “Good evening, Ariadne,” she said, a hint of concern filtering into her tone. “Come inside, it’s freezing out here.”
Ari followed Tessa inside and was led to the drawing room. Tessa and Will shared a look as they walked. Ari stared at her feet. “Ariadne—”
“You can just call me Ari.”
“Ari,” Will continued, looking back at her quizzically, “what brings you here so late?”
“Would it be alright if I stayed here? Just for a short while . . .” Ari trailed off, fidgeting with her skirts.
Will and Tessa cast each other another glance in front of her. They had such perfect silent communication between them. Ari envied them terribly. “Of course, Ari,” Tessa replied, a carefully constructed air of kindness masking the almost imperceptible concern Ari could see on her face. “Would you like to talk about why?” Tessa asked, pushing her way into the drawing room and seating herself on a settee. Will sat beside her.
“Um,” Ari started hesitantly. “Well, my mother kicked me out—well, not exactly—I kicked myself out—or, she said that my father would kick me out. And so I took the initiative and walked out before he could kick me out.” After a moment, she rushed out, “so I would really appreciate it if you would let me stay here for just a moment. It won’t be long, I promise. I won’t be a burden. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can, I swear.” Her voice broke off on the last word.
“Oh, Ari,” Tessa said, rising from her seat and sitting Ari down in a chair. “Dear, you can stay here as long as you need to. That’s what the Institute is here for. There’s plenty of spare rooms; you can choose whichever you want. And you can stay here as long as you need.”
————
Ari settled into the London Institute. It was not her home, and it didn’t feel like home, but the Herondales did their best to make her feel comfortable.
She still felt like she was intruding on them, so she mostly tried to keep to herself and stay in her room, leaving mostly to go apartment hunting.
Still, she could not help but smile when Lucie pushed her way into her room and demanded she help her write the next scene in her novel, or when James would recommend a book to her at breakfast and have left a copy of it on her desk by dinner, or even when Jesse would ask to her to train with him.
She was not going to stay at the Institute, but the welcome and stability that the Herondales offered her were a welcome reprieve from her own house and her own family and her own troubles.
But of course, about a week later, Anna showed up at the Institute.
————
For the first time in two years, Ari thought that Anna looked small.
She was shrinking into herself on the doorstep of the London Institute, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.
“You came,” Ari said, her voice masking any emotion she might have felt.
“I did,” Anna replied carefully. “Ari, I’m so sorry—”
Ari held up a hand, cutting her off. “If we’re going to talk, let’s talk inside. It’s far too cold to talk outside, and I sorely hope that this will be a long conversation. None of this will be of any use if we both develop frostbite.”
Ari led Anna to the drawing room silently, a mirror image of Ari and the Herondales only a few nights before. When they arrived, the two sat across from each other. Anna seemed to fold into the plush of the seat.
The two were silent for a few moments, before, gently, Ari said, “You came here to talk, no? So talk.”
Anna hesitated for only a second. “You were the first girl I ever fell in love with. And, of course, you were the first girl who ever broke my heart. I wasn’t used to feeling like that. Either of those feelings. And I took both hard. I fell in love with you and everything felt so strong and vibrant and perfect. Being with you felt like that. So when you told me that you were engaged to Charles, it hurt. You know that.
“I wasn’t used to feeling so hurt over another person. I didn’t know how to react, so I felt like I had to change some part of myself. To get rid of what you cared about? To rid myself of you? I don’t know. But the change was certainly because of you. And that change was important to me. I feel more like myself than I ever did before you, and I don’t want to give that up.
“I’m quite selfish, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.
“But what I’ve failed to understand is that the part of myself that is me is not the stone-hearted lady killer. The hair is me. The pants and waistcoats are me. The confidence is me. Or at least, it’s who I want to be. But what I don’t want to be is cruel, and in these past few months that is exactly how I have been to you.
“I thought that the only way to feel confident, the only way to feel comfortable in my skin, was to be some magnificent, handsome lady killer. To be honest, I found it somewhat fun—terrible though it makes me sound. But it wasn’t fun when it was you.
“I felt awful using you. I still feel awful about doing it. And yet, my brain could not figure out how not to. On the one hand, I was still heartbroken from two years ago, and I didn’t want to open myself up to that pain again. On the other hand, I didn’t want to give up myself. I thought that if I were to let myself be with you I would go back to being how I was two years ago. I was—am terrified of that.
“But none of that makes up for the way I treated you. None of that justifies it. I cannot begin to express how sorry I am for how I’ve made you feel for the past few months, but I hope you understand that I am sorry. I’m so, so unbelievably sorry for everything.
“And, if it isn’t too presumptuous of me, I’d like it a great deal if you would give me another chance. To make up for how I’ve treated you. I do love you, Ari. A lot. I hope you know that.”
During the final portion of her speech, Anna had managed to force herself to meet Ari’s gaze. Her words sat heavy between the two of them, but it was a comfortable weight. After a stretch, Ari cracked a soft smile
“I know. And I’d be happy to offer you another chance,” Ari said, taking one of Anna’s hands in her own. “I love you, too. But I also love myself, so don’t make me regret this.”
Anna stiffened slightly, but Ari squeezed her hand and gently added, “I trust you, Anna. I trust that you want to do better, and I trust that you will do better.”
Anna stared at Ari, doing her best to will away the tears blooming in her eyes. “Can I?—”
Ari pulled Anna close and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “You know,” she whispered, “it’s funny that you’re the one crying when you have given me no shortage of reasons to cry as of recent.”
Anna sniffled into Ari’s shoulder. “I’m terribly selfish, aren’t I?”
Ari shook her head, lifting a hand up to Anna’s head and running her fingers through her hair. “Be kinder to yourself, Anna.”
“Please come back to my flat,” Anna blurted out, voice muffled by the fabric of Ari’s dress. “I’m so terribly lonely there. And I cannot get Winston to stay quiet for more than a few moments. I have not known peace all week.”
Ari laughed, a light, joyful sound, pulling Anna closer to her. “I’d love nothing more than that, Anna.”