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“You can talk to me, little rabbit. How are you feeling?”
She bites her bottom lip, putting her champagne glass down on the table. She sighs softly and her lips part. Beautiful, soft, full lips. She looks like she is about to start talking I freeze, not daring to move. I cannot even explain the nervous rush running through me. She has not spoken to me in weeks—in fact, she has never properly spoken to me.
“Sir.” The chef stands at our table, ready to place our food down. I growl in frustration as her facial expression changes, her lips close, and she leans back in her chair.
“Thank you,” I say, moving our champagne glasses out of the way so that he can place the sushi platter in the center of the table.
“This looks perfect. Thanks,” I mumble.
“Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll check on you in a bit.” The chef nods and walks away.
“Which pieces are your favorite?” I ask Jennifer.
Nothing. She just stares down at the lush green plants.
“Personally, I like the salmon roses, but the chef does this great piece with a slice of orange in it. You have to try it. Here.” I place a few pieces of sushi on her plate and then fill her little sauce bowl with soy sauce. “Do you like wasabi?”
I sigh in frustration when she says nothing and place a small dab of wasabi on the edge of her plate.
“When will you talk to me?”
She picks up her chopsticks and elegantly lifts a piece of sushi, dipping it into the soy sauce. “This looks lovely, Kiril.” Her voice is like music to my ears and the sudden sound of it has me frozen in place, my hand hovering mid-air with my own chopsticks resting in my fingers.
She bites into the citrus-infused salmon sushi and closes her eyes for a moment. I cannot tear my gaze from her. “What do you think?” I ask.
She chews slowly and then swallows. “That is an amazing combination.”
I smile, my heart easing slightly at the edges. A small amount of the tension escapes me.
We eat in silence for a while, me waiting for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. When she is full, she pushes her plate a little away from herself and picks up her champagne glass. I finish eating and do the same, watching her closely.
I have decided that my own silence might be the key to her talking.
Our plates are cleared away and the chef comes in to let us know that he will serve dessert when we are ready.
We are now alone in the greenhouse, the glass ceiling allowing us to look up towards the stars glittering in the night sky.
I follow her gaze and find myself appreciating the clearness of the evening. It is something I don’t normally pay attention to, but when she is around the world becomes more beautiful.
“Kiril.” Her voice grabs my attention.
“Little rabbit.”
“I’m better now.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’ll be going home now, then.”
My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. Is this the first thing she wants to say to me after everything? Is that what I waited so long to hear?
I grip the champagne flute so tightly that I feel as though the glass may shatter in my hand. I put it down on the table and breathe a heavy, frustrated breath. She is telling me that she will be going home. I can’t let her leave. I don’t want her to leave. I have become so—
My thoughts begin to race. I struggle to pull them together. She means too much to me to let her go.
“Little rabbit, Jennifer, I cannot let you go.”
At the sound of her name on my lips, her eyes shoot up towards me. Her lips are parted in shock and the green of her irises is bright and fierce.
