Chapter 5 A Crush You Can't Un-brew
Riley’s POV
Netty came back the next afternoon carrying the amber bottle I had given her yesterday, and the fact that it was still half full told me she had followed my instructions at least once. She set it on the counter with a sigh so dramatic that I reached for my tea before she even spoke.
“The potion worked,” she said.
“That sounds promising.”
“It helped me sleep.”
“Also promising.”
“I woke up rested enough to remember why I was unhappy.”
I lowered my cup. “Ah.”
Netty pointed accusingly at the bottle. “You made a potion that gave me the energy to continue having feelings.”
“That was, unfortunately, the intention.”
She dropped into the chair beside the counter and looked toward the ceiling as though patience might be hiding in the rafters. “I want something stronger.”
I had heard that sentence before, but this time I understood exactly what it meant. Yesterday, Netty had wanted the pain softened enough to rest, and today she had discovered that rest left room for the heartbreak itself to be noticed.
“You want the potion that makes you stop caring,” I said.
“Yes.”
“I still do not sell it.”
“I know.”
There was something almost offended in the way she said it, as though my consistency had personally inconvenienced her. I picked up her bottle, checked the level, and noticed the faint silver-blue residue clinging to the glass where the first remedy had settled.
“You only used half.”
“I was saving the rest.”
“For what?”
“I do not know yet.”
“That is probably wise.”
The bell above the door rang before she could answer, and Ryan walked in carrying the book from yesterday. He paused when he saw Netty, then glanced at me with the careful expression of someone who had walked into a conversation he suspected might involve him.
“I can leave,” he said.
“You could,” I replied. “But then I would have to admit I am pleased to see you again.”
“I would not want to put you through that.”
Netty looked between us. “You two are strange.”
“We have known each other for three days,” I said.
“Exactly.”
Ryan placed the book on the counter. “I was only returning this.”
“You finished it already?”
“I read quickly.”
Netty pointed at him. “He is showing off.”
“I am standing here.”
“That has never stopped anyone.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, then turned back toward Netty. “Tell me what you actually want the stronger potion to do.”
Her amusement disappeared.
“I want to wake up and not think about him,” she said. “I want to walk past the café where we used to meet without remembering which table he liked. I want to stop checking my phone every time it makes a sound.”
She rubbed her thumb against the bottle's label, worrying the edge until it began to peel.
“I want one morning where I do not have to be brave just to get out of bed.”
That landed differently.
I reached for Heartcraft, but I did not push into her emotions. I simply opened the door enough to receive what she was willing to offer, and the impression came softly, like a bruise beneath warm water, grief tangled with embarrassment and a stubborn little thread of hope she was trying very hard to pretend did not exist.
I pulled back before the feeling became too intimate.
“You still care about him,” I said.
Netty gave me a tired look. “That was supposed to be a secret.”
“I am a Heartcrafter. You are not particularly difficult to read.”
Ryan had gone quiet near the shelves. I did not look at him, because I already knew what I would find there, the same stillness Heartcraft always met when it brushed against his fae heart.
Netty folded her hands around the bottle. “Can you make me stop?”
“No.”
The answer hurt her, and I hated that it did.
“I could make the feeling duller,” I said. “I could make it easier to ignore, but that would not mean you had healed. It would only mean I had helped you avoid something you still need to understand.”
“I do not want to understand it.”
“I know.”
“I want it gone.”
“I know that too.”
She looked down at the bottle between us. “Then what can you give me?”
I thought about the first remedy, the one that had done exactly what I promised. It had quieted her body enough for sleep, but the heart underneath it had not changed, and no honest potion could change it for her.
“I can give you something that helps you stay yourself while the worst of it passes,” I said. “It will not make you forget him, and it will not make you stop caring, but it might make the next few days feel less like something you have to survive.”
Netty looked skeptical. “That sounds suspiciously responsible.”
“It is one of my least charming qualities.”
Ryan glanced over. “I had assumed that was the sarcasm.”
“That is my most charming quality.”
“I see.”
I ignored him and moved to the worktable.
This remedy needed different ingredients. I crushed moonmint first, then added a pinch of golden fennel and three drops of clearwater tincture, watching the mixture turn pale green as I stirred. The potion gave off a quiet chiming sound, almost like a spoon touching the rim of a glass, and each note faded before the next one appeared.
Netty leaned forward. “Is it supposed to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I added the final ingredient, a small piece of dried sunleaf, and the liquid brightened until a thin thread of gold curled through the green. The scent was warmer than yesterday's remedy, something between fresh grass and honey, and it filled the little space between the counter and the worktable.
“This one will not make you happy,” I said as I poured it into a fresh bottle. “It will help you stay steady enough to make your own choices while you are unhappy.”
Netty accepted the bottle and studied the gold thread turning slowly inside it.
“So I still get to feel everything.”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “You really built an entire shop around making things more complicated.”
“I built it around making things honest.”
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she tucked the bottle into her handbag and stood. “I suppose I can try the honest way again.”
“You already did.”
She looked at me.
“You came back,” I said. “That counts for something.”
Her expression softened, and she gave me a small nod before turning toward the door.
She stopped with her hand on the handle.
“There is something else,” she said.
I waited.
“There is a fancy new shop by the quad. One of the girls at the café told me they can make you stop feeling anything in a day.”
My shoulders tightened before I could stop them.
Netty did not notice. She looked almost relieved by the possibility.
“I might try them if this does not work.”
Ryan's gaze moved toward me.
I kept my voice even. “You are allowed to choose where you go.”
Netty frowned. “Even if they can do what you cannot?”
“Especially then.”
She studied me for a second, perhaps expecting an argument, but I only opened the door for her.
“I hope you come back,” I said.
“I might.”
The bell chimed as she stepped outside.
The shop felt quieter after she left, though the academy path beyond the windows was still busy with students and enchanted leaves skittering over the stones. Ryan remained beside the counter, one hand resting on the book he had returned.
“You could have told her the other shop was wrong,” he said.
“I do not know that it is wrong.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I know what I believe,” I added. “That is different from deciding what someone else is allowed to choose.”
He looked toward the door Netty had just gone through.
“I think you made the right potion.”
I stared at him.
Ryan immediately looked down at his book. “That was not a compliment.”
“Of course not.”
“I was making an observation.”
“An unusually generous one.”
He opened the book. “Do not make me regret it.”
I turned back toward the bottles before he could see that his opinion had landed somewhere I had not expected.
The rival shop had been planted in my mind now, bright and polished and promising people the one thing I refused to sell.
I should have been thinking about competition.
Instead, I was wondering why Ryan's approval had mattered enough for me to notice.
That was a much more inconvenient problem than heartbreak.
