Would you read this? The One One

 

The ONE ONE

 

"I hate it."

"You just need to give it a chance."

I loved John, but right then, I wanted to punch him the mouth.  I glared at the smog encrusted stucco that once was beige, but now was a dull gray and tried to like it.

I failed.

"I hate it," I grumbled again.

John put his soft hand on the back of my neck and tried to rub the tension away.

It didn't work. My sigh told him so.

"I know it's not great," he said. He practically bubbled it out, because that was his personality type and one of the reasons I loved him.

That and his six foot two inch super hot ripped swimmer's bod, topped off by chiseled cheeks and delicious green eyes that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world when he talked to me.

Like now.

"But it's close to work, so I can run there, run back and you can have the car."

Did I mention he was a Doctor? Yeah, gorgeous and he wanted to help people. Idiot.

My perfect Einstein idiot.

I leaned over and kissed him, the old leather in my grandmother's Buick crackling under the shifted weight.

"I'll make it better," he promised me. "We can get a pressure washer on one weekend and clean it all up."

I lifted my index finger and wiggled it against the tip of his nose.

"I could just-"

"No," he said, his voice growing firm. "Not that."

While my newlywed husband could save lives as a Doctor, or not quite Dr. yet, since he was a resident, I had certain skills of my own.

Magic skills.

Alright, let's face it. I was a witch. Am a witch. Was.

Here's where it gets confusing, okay.

John was a normal person. Well, not normal, because he wanted to save the world and cure cancer and all of that good stuff that made people think he was amazing.

I was not normal.

Well, normal for this world, but perfectly normal in mine.

Which I am not a part of any more.

Because I married John.

My witch family excommunicated me. I couldn't use magic on pain of death. All I got from them was a threat for a wedding present.

And my grandmother's old car. She wasn't around to use it, but no one would tell me where she had gone.

"No one will know," I whispered.

As if they had bugged the front seat and were listening in. The thought of which made me giggle, since if they had been listening, they would have heard some really great post honeymoon action in the big bench seat in the back when we pulled off the side of the road an hour ago.

"They said no," John admonished.

I pouted, in a way I knew he liked.

"One flick and it would be a palace," I pointed.

He reached up and gripped my finger with his hand, pulling the tip to his luscious lips and kissing it.

"No magic," he said, his voice softer this time. "You're going to have to learn how to do things the real way."

"Magic is real for me, hon."

"Not anymore."

And this time, my pout was for real. Because he was right. I stared at One One Melrose on the edge of WEHO and Beverly HIlls and hated it harder, if that was possible.