Chapter 1
She had always known it would end this way. Nevers didn’t get their Happily Ever Afters. That was the first rule. She had no one to blame but herself now. She had been foolish enough to believe not just once but twice that she could be the one exception.
The first time she let herself dream was when she had first held her son in her arms.
She hadn’t been looking for love, and she certainly hadn’t wanted a Happily Ever After. He had been attractive enough, physically and mentally. A sharp jawline contrasted by soft curling hair. Witty and intelligent enough to hold his own in conversation with her. She hadn’t wanted a partner, she had wanted fun. And that is what they’d had.
For a few weeks at least.
And then things spoiled. As they always do for Nevers.
He had changed. He hadn’t become Eviler, just crueler. His facade had fallen. He had gotten what he’d wanted, so what use was pretending now? Not that she could really blame him, she supposed. Wasn’t that all attraction between Nevers could amount to? Temporary lust before kisses morphed into bites and embraces turned to strangles?
And after all, hadn’t she been using him in the same way, too? An escape, a release, a distraction. Wasn’t she the same as him?
No, a tiny voice had said, even then. You two are not the same. You may be Evil, but you aren’t cruel, not sadistic. You know the rules, and you stick to them.
But even then, that little voice was too quiet to be heard over the drowning roar of everybody else’s opinions, expectations, prejudices.
She was Evil, through and through. She had no one to blame but herself.
When she’d finally left him, she swore not to think about him again. And she hadn’t. Not when she couldn’t shake her sickness, not when Emma had quietly suggested the unthinkable, not when she learned he had left his mark on her in more ways than one.
And as she held the tiny, shriveled, red-faced infant in her arms, delirious with – well, she wasn’t sure what it was, she had never felt it before – he was nowhere in her thoughts.
The only time he ever stole into her thoughts was years ago, late one night when she had softly asked her if she would do it again. She had thought about it properly, thinking the implications fully through for once instead of just answering with the first thought that popped into her mind.
No, she had said. I wouldn’t do it again. But I also wouldn’t change a thing this time through. Because I have him.
But that was Before. When she still rocked him to sleep every night. When he still snuggled into her side when he had a bad dream or fell and scraped his knee. When she laughed at his antics, and he would puff his tiny chest out with pride at being the cause of that sound. When he stared up at her, that same unruly red hair framing those tiny duplicates of her own gleaming green eyes that bored into her soul, accepting her as she was. When he was hers, and she was his.
And then, like all Nevers’ chances at a Happily Ever After, it was ruined.
Now those green eyes that she had gazed so lovingly into – because that was the emotion she’d felt when he was born that she hadn’t been able to identify – haunted her whenever she closed her own. The delighted cries of “Mama!” that had greeted her at the end of a long day of teaching were now shouts of pain that woke her from her sleep.
And she had known, even then, that this was how things would end.
After all, Nevers don’t get Happily Ever Afters.
But then she had come along. Technically, she had always been there. But they had just been colleagues. She certainly didn’t do friends, no matter how much her Ever counterpart had tried to worm her way into her life.
Until one day, she realized she had succeeded. She couldn’t name the day or event. Couldn't identify the final tipping point.
But somehow, she – that annoying beam of sunshine she couldn’t ignore – had become a beacon of light in the darkness that was her life.
It had started as a flicker, an annoying glimpse of something she knew she could never have. But then the years passed, and she never shied away, never recoiled in disgust or fear on those rare occasions she revealed her true self. Instead, she had been met with open arms, a compassionate smile.
When she opened up about him, her son, she was not met with scorn. She had kept the secret, even gifting the small child trinkets now and then. His fairy godmother, she had called herself.
And soon that flicker began to grow. It turned into a flame that turned into a raging fire whose afterglow was still there, even when she closed her eyes. And friendship evolved into something deeper.
And that was when she had learned what Love was. She gave her the words to identify what she felt for her son, and now for her. Love. She gave her the tools to see the world not only as it was, but as it could be. As it was in those brief moments when it was just the two of them, no need to pretend, just she and her, no masks, just the glued-back-together pieces that made them up.
But she had never acted on it.
She had been burned by fire before, and even if this flame was different, even if this was the warmth of Hestia’s hearth after a long day out in the snow, even if this was the feeling of safety and home, even if this flame was gentle and caressed her frozen heart instead of pounding at it and scorching it, it was still fire.
And fire burned and scarred.
And there were other dangers besides fire as well. There were the shouts and screams, the whispers and rumors, the status quo and the judgment.
Not to mention the damage this would do to her reputation, and even though she was Evil, she would never jeopardize her or her dreams like that.
And besides the myriad of other reasons, there was still the most obvious one. Nevers didn’t get Happily Ever Afters. And certainly not with Evers.
But on those dangerous nights, when sleep danced away from her and she was alone with her thoughts, nothing to keep them from flooding into her brain, her traitorous heart would shout “But what if?”
But every time, all she had to do was remember the quieting of voices and the hints of fear in the few tones that whispered in hushes as she stalked down haunted hallways and compare it with the clamors of joy that rose when she glided down cheerful corridors.
A wry smile would creep across her lips in the dark.
Could it get more obvious than that?
But just as quickly as that smirk appeared, it would disappear.
Perhaps she really was just a fool.
Even though the first time had been a disaster – more than that, it had been a fate worse than death – she was still here, lying in her bed, dreaming about a future where she could be with her.
Even though she knew what happened when Nevers tried to get Happily Ever Afters.
Whether it was those same nights of treasonous dreams or different nights or nights that bled into days that bled into nights again, no distinction between the two because what was the point in even trying to sleep when it would evade her again and again, it no longer mattered where she was or what she was doing.
The reminders and memories found her anyway.
The reminders of what had happened the first time she’d tried to love, when she’d thought she could somehow steal a Happily Ever After away from right under their noses.
The memories of how her son had been stolen from her. The reminder of how the line between Love and Hate is so thin that one can cross it without even realizing what has happened. How the person you once loved the most could become the very same person who despised your very being.
And the cutting voice that whispered and raged and stormed and needled away in her head was her one constant companion along with the memories.
Nevers don’t get Happily Ever Afters.
But even so, despite the risks and the hurt and danger, she knew. She knew it was Love, that what she felt for her was Love of the deepest, truest form.
Even if she wouldn’t act on it.
Because she wouldn’t act on it.
She wouldn’t – she couldn’t – drag her down with her. She would protect her.
But even in that, she had failed. On more than one occasion.
And now the screams of “Mama!” were mingled with cries of “Lesso!” The piercing green eyes of a toddler blurred into the fearful dark brown ones of a frightened woman. Small sticky hands wrapped around her neck, suffocating her, as frozen statues of her watched unmoving.
And it didn’t matter how many times she would jolt awake in the dead of night, a cold sweat chilling her already frozen skin.
The dreams and nightmares both came back.
Every time she had tried to love, she had been reminded that Nevers didn’t get Happily Ever Afters.
And so, she had always known how it would end.
What she hadn’t known was how damn much it would hurt.
Not the physical pain. That was no stranger to her.
What cut her to the core was the realization that she was out of time. She had always thought she’d have more time. That they would have more time.
The realization that she would never be with her best friend again. Never see those brown eyes sparkle as she tried to suppress a smile, hating to encourage her ridiculous antics. Never feel those arms embrace her, the only thing that brought warmth into her icy body. Never hear that beautiful voice again.
She had always known it would end like this. Nevers didn’t get Happily Ever Afters, and no matter how much she had tried to pretend otherwise, she was a Never.
But now. Now, as she lay in her arms, unseeing eyes staring up into the face of the one she loved most, her essence draining away, she couldn’t help but wonder.
Could it have been enough? Just the two of us? If I had set aside my fears, if I had allowed myself to be brave, to dare, to dream. Would it have been enough?
Oh, what could have been.
But it no longer mattered.
Yes, it does, a tiny voice whispered. A different one than the cruel, heartless one that had kept her down. It is not too late.
But it was, isn’t it?
But still, she had to try.
And so, struggling with every breath, she managed to croak out, “Leonora. My name is Leonora.” And with that final declaration, the closest she would ever come to being able to say “I love you,” Leonora Lesso finally let herself rest.