Leah straightened her dress and drew in a deep breath. It was just a night out at a bar with her friends. It didn’t mean anything, and there was no pressure. Just because Autumn and Summer insisted on calling it a divorce party didn’t mean that she had to feel obligated to hook up with someone and live the wild life like a college student again. It was going to be okay. She had even opted for a low pair of heels instead of the stilettos at the back of her closet, just to make it feel a little more like a normal night out with her girlfriends.

As she stepped up to The Parlor and raised her hand to open the door, she was relieved to see that there was no knob; she only had to push. Leah carefully chose a spot near the middle of the door—where very few people had probably touched the old wood—and stepped inside. The establishment was a long and narrow one that stretched away on either side of her. The back wall behind the bar was painted a pale shade of yellow that contrasted with the dark wood trim and gave the place a bright but cozy feel. Two bartenders worked away busily, sliding drinks down the slick wooden surface and collecting tips in a large glass jar.

“There she is!” Autumn squealed, waving Leah over to their table. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up.”

“And I wasn’t going to stop her if she decided to go find you and drag you out tonight,” Summer piped up, running a hand through her pale, curly locks.

Leah gave her friends a small smile as she sat down. She had met the twins back in college, and she knew they meant well. But it was strange for her to be out enjoying herself when she knew she ought to be at home, crying over a cup of tea. “I’m just not sure that I feel like celebrating. It almost seems wrong to be so happy about something so terrible.”

Autumn shook her head, but her auburn hair stayed perfectly in place. Tonight, she had it combed neatly back into a high bun, letting her thick fringe of bangs hang down to frame her angular face. As usual, not a single hair was out of place. She looked more like an attorney or a banker instead of a witch who owned a new age shop with her sister. “You’re looking at it the wrong way. Sure, it sucks that you and Victor didn’t work out. But he wasn’t right for you, and you’ve gotten out of that situation. Why not be happy about it?” She tipped back her giant margarita glass and smiled.

“I have to agree.” Summer leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms, showing off the oversized tunic she wore with her wildly-patterned leggings. She was nothing like her sister, and she always opted to be comfortable above all else. “You have a new chance at happiness, and that’s definitely worth celebrating.”

“Easy for you to say; you’ve never been married.” Leah didn’t want to be catty about it, but this was one of the hardest things she had ever gone through. She’d known women who had gotten divorced, and she had seen it in their readings, but living it was a completely different experience.

“Well, I have,” Autumn said authoritatively. “And I can tell you there’s plenty of cause for a party. Now, let’s get you a drink and start having a good time.” She waved to a waitress. “A margarita for my friend, here, please.”

Leah put a up a hand to stop the young woman from heading back to the bar. “I don’t drink margaritas.”

“You do now,” Autumn argued and waved the waitress away to fetch the drink. “Seriously, now. You were so upset when you found out Victor was cheating on you. We all knew he was a dick anyway, so why are you sulking? You got everything you wanted out of the divorce—even if it wasn’t much—and you don’t have any kids together. There’s no reason for you to ever see him again. Enjoy it. I dare you.” She narrowed her green eyes at her friend, willing her to do as she was told.

“Maybe I should; I’d like to think I will, eventually. But you’ve got to admit this is one hell of a blow to my self-esteem.” Leah slunk down a little in her seat, the weight of it all still heavy on her shoulders. She and Victor had been separated for over a year, but knowing that all the official paperwork had been filed made things feel much more final.

“Why? You’re gorgeous.” Summer leaned over and picked up several locks of Leah’s dark chestnut hair in her hand and let them fall slowly back to her shoulders. “And you’re fun and smart. You’re everything most guys are looking for.”

Leah shook her head. “It’s not just that. I mean, sure, knowing that he was sleeping with that other woman definitely made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. But I’m a goddamn psychic; I hang a shingle out so people will come to me to find out about their futures, but I can’t even predict my own. Don’t you think I should have known he was the wrong guy?”

Her mind flashed back to when she had first met Victor at a party. She had been far too drunk, and he had given her a ride home. Leah had been attracted to him, and it hadn’t hurt that he was intelligent as well. To top things off, he had believed her when she’d accidentally told him she had psychic powers. It was the kind of thing that would have driven most people away, no matter what kind of relationship she wanted to have with them. No one believed that psychics were anything but con artists with crystal balls. But Victor had seemed to understand, even though he had no supernatural gifts of his own. He’d never complained that she was being foolish when she became a psychic freelancer, and he’d even gone with her to a few conventions. It was the most support she’d ever received from someone without powers, and it had meant a lot to her.

Autumn rolled her green, catlike eyes toward the ceiling as she thought. “Have you ever been able to predict things about yourself? I mean, it’s not like you know when you’re going to die, do you?”

Leah had to admit she had a point. “No, and I wouldn’t want to. But it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. I managed to get a publishing deal for my book that claims it can teach people to tap into their own natural abilities, and then I get smacked in the face by reality. I fucking hate it.”

“Maybe your spirit guides sent Victor to you for a reason.” Summer blinked her wide, green eyes. “Maybe you needed someone to help you get started on the right path, but it doesn’t mean you were meant to continue on that path together.”

“Apparently not.” Leah easily remembered that fateful day when Victor had come home from work and set his travel mug down on the kitchen counter. It was a simple thing, and not a gesture that should have mattered at all. But Leah had picked it up to rinse out the remains of his coffee from that morning, and her powers had instantly kicked in. The kitchen had faded around her and turned into an office. A woman was kissing her husband—and it definitely wasn’t Leah. The image was so real that Leah couldn’t help but watch as her own husband’s hands unfastened the buttons of the woman’s shirt and worked their way up her skirt. She’d watched in horror as the two of them made love on Victor’s desk.

Of course, she had gone straight to him with her accusations. That was the first time Victor had ever questioned her psychic powers, calling her a paranoid liar. But she knew as soon as she reached out and touched the lapel of his sport coat that she was right. Victor’s personal items didn’t usually give her much information; not like they did for strangers. But then again, she had always known all of his secrets up until that point. The waitress brought Leah’s drink, and she stared down at the salty rim of the glass as if it could help her understand what had happened.

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