40. Maddox

FORTY

"So, Maddox." Ruth takes a sip of her water. "Are you single?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Never married?"

Hannah sighs loudly over her mother's question but has stopped trying to intervene.

"Never married," I answer.

"Ever engaged?" Ruth keeps going.

"Nope." Honestly, I've never even considered ring shopping for anyone before.

"Why not?" Ruth pops a piece of tofu into her mouth.

"Grandma, if you like him, then you shouldn't want him marrying Aunt Hannah." The girl across the table holds a piece of chicken expertly between her chopsticks, obviously picking up on her grandma's intention.

"Why's that?" I ask the girl, curious.

She levels her gaze on me. "Because if you did, you'd get the curse."

Hannah coughs, and I don't know if it's to cover a laugh or a gasp.

I study the kid. "What's the curse?"

She shrugs. "Nothing big. Just that everyone who loves us dies."

I think my mouth drops open.

The fuck did she just say?

A pea flies through the air and bounces off Chelsea's cheek. "No talk of curses on my birthday. Birthdays are immune."

Chelsea wipes her napkin across her cheek, then goes back to eating.

I clear my throat and turn my head to look at Hannah.

Everyone who loves us dies.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Hannah's lips are pressed together. She's definitely trying not to laugh.

How the hell is that funny?

Hannah dips another wonton into the container of sweet-and-sour sauce, casual as ever.

I think about the house.

The curtains framing the window. The many pairs of kid-sized shoes at the front door. The abundance of comfortable furniture in the living room behind me.

These three live here together.

I'd bet my savings on it.

Because everyone who loves us dies.

Something desolate settles in my stomach next to the sesame chicken.

Hannah reaches over and pats my forearm, probably trying to snap me out of my mental spiral. "Don't worry, Maddox, you can't catch it from proximity."

I swallow through the tightness building in my throat. "You sure about that?"

Hannah nods. "It's one of the rules."

Ruth huffs. "Since when have you cared about the rules?"

When I met Hannah, I thought she was a bit of a Goody Two-Shoes. But I'm starting to think that's not true.

Maybe it's her quick comebacks that started to change my mind. Or maybe it was fucking her over her desk last night during the employee party that gave me the hint.

"And who did I learn that behavior from?" Hannah looks at her mom.

"No idea what you're talking about." Ruth takes another bite of her food.

"Plus," Hannah tells the table, "we're not getting married. We're not even dating." She holds up a hand. "I mean, we won't date. We can't. Not that we would. But even if we wanted to, he's my boss." She points her finger between us. "And we don't want to."

Everyone stares at Hannah.

She's adorable when she's flustered.

"Well, technically." I lift an egg roll to punctuate my point. "I'm not your boss. I just own the company."