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“I dream about looking in the mirror and feeling proud of the person staring back at me. I dream…I dream of finding peace.” His arms closed around her. She heard him swallow, heard him draw a ragged breath. “I told myself years ago that I would get there one day, no matter what it took. But one day seems so fucking far away.” He gripped her tighter, one of his hands stroking the back of her hair. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been, Loren. I can see myself having that life with you, can see us building our one day together. I can see myself there, clearer than ever, and I want it. I want all of it.”
“You’ll have it,” she whispered hoarsely. “I promise.”
“Cross your heart?” Even though he was teasing, she could hear the uncertainty in the question, the need for reassurance that one day he might finally get to where he wanted to be.
“Cross my heart, Darien.” Closing her eyes, she turned her face into his chest, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of her person. Her home. “Cross my heart.”
—
Darien had been staring at the closed door to Erasmus Sophronia’s townhouse for so long, he’d memorized how many lines were in the wood, how many flecks of rust were on the doorknob. The ticking of the watch on his wrist was incessant. They were already ten minutes late, and not because of their time spent at Eternal Light Memorial Gardens, but because of how long they’d lingered on this doorstep. But he would stand here for as long as Loren needed him to, even if it took all night.
All the lights in the house were on, the rattle of dishes and the clang of pots floating through a cracked-open window. The neighborhood was in the district of Oceana, only about a ten-minute drive from the Avenue of the Scarlet Star during periods of light traffic. It was picturesque and quiet, tucked away from the usual noise of Angelthene’s urban sprawl. The grid of townhouses was protected by spells, the streets lined with the best and brightest LED lights on the market. The lights were designed to come on when the sun went down, which would be happening any minute now.
Darien glanced at Loren, who was standing stiffly beside him on the front steps, clutching the neck of a bottle of chardonnay before her. She had been watching the door with an unblinking gaze for so long that he wondered how her eyes hadn’t completely dried out. Moths were fluttering about, charmed by the porchlight. The LED streetlights dotting the sidewalk flared to life as the sun ducked below the horizon, leaving behind the faintest stripe of amber that turned the buildings, palms, and cacti into stark silhouettes.
“Sweetheart—” Darien tried.
“Do you think he even likes chardonnay?” Loren asked. She kept staring at the door, a deer trapped in headlights.
“He’ll love the chardonnay,” Darien assured her. “But do you know what he’ll love even more?”
Those big eyes of hers stayed on the door, even as he tilted his head slightly, attempting to draw her attention. “Mmm?” she prompted.
“Having his daughter for company.”
She nibbled her lip. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
She took a deep breath, blew it out through pursed lips, and stepped up to the door, fist raised to knock.
When the distant rumble of her father’s voice floated through the window screen, she dropped her hand and retreated down the steps, heels clomping on cement. “We’ll come back another time.”
Darien followed her to the sidewalk. “Baby, hold on.”
“Maybe we’ll tell him we had somewhere we needed to be, something we forgot to do. We’ll think of something—”
Just as she was stepping out onto the street that was lined with date palms, nearly throwing herself in front of a moving car, he caught her by the wrist, yanking her back against his body. The driver looked like he was about to slam his fist on the horn, but wisely stopped when he realized who was standing on the side of the road.
Being this recognizable certainly had its perks.
“Hold on a second,” Darien said, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders.
There was terror in her eyes when she looked up at him, hair sticking to her lip gloss. That terror had nothing to do with the fact that she’d almost been run over by a vehicle, he knew.
Darien kept his tone soft. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But I know you, and I know that you really want to do this. You’re just scared, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared sometimes. But you know who else is scared?”
The strand of hair that was caught in her mouth fluttered with her heavy breathing. “Who? You?”
He chuckled. “No, not me, sweetheart. Your dad. I bet he spent most of the day preparing for this dinner, and he’s in there right now shitting himself watching the clock.” He laced his fingers with hers. They were so small compared to his own, and they were trembling like the palm tree fronds tossed about by the wind. “If you want to go back home, I’ll take you back home. But if you want to walk in there and get this done, I’ll be right there with you for all of it, awkward conversations and all. You’re not alone, and you never will be. Cross my heart.”
That won him a smile. The stunning kind that took his breath away and made him weak in the knees. Damn, she was gorgeous. He fell in love with her all over again every single day.
She blew out a shaky laugh. “Cross your heart,” she repeated with a nod. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
