Page 50 of Unmasking My Dark Knight

“Or hiding on someone else’s fingers,” she said, staring up at the twisted oak tree by the bench. The branches were covered in orange flickering lights that twinkled on her face. “We’ve looked everywhere. I only have a couple more nights to find them, and I’m really dreading telling them what happened,” she murmured, frowning.

I sighed, shaking my head. I wanted to make it all better for her. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I had the power to do just that.

I stood up and held my hand out. “Let’s keep searching. I have a good feeling that they are close by." In my pocket, to be exact, and I wasn't sure if tonight was the right time to return them. She would have them before the wedding, and wasn't that the most important part? And was it so bad that I just wanted her to come back and spend time with me?

She gave me that look that sent flutters swarming my stomach before she smiled and took my hand.

We walked throughout the majority of the park, at least in the spots she had gone to the night we met, and we stopped at the haunted house where I originally saw Ivy Jade run out from nights ago. No doubt, it was scarier than the house of mirrors.

“Should we check in here?” I asked, glancing down at her with a smirk.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Absolutely not! I am not going back in there!”

I laughed. I wasn’t going to put her through that. “Alright. I can check later.”

We continued our stroll, hand in hand, and I wanted to freeze time like this. She was so sweet as we bantered back and forth, and I squeezed her hand whenever I’d feel her tense at something scary.

“What’s your sign, by the way?” I asked as we passed by a ride called the scorpion.

Megan was a Scorpio, and as a Cancer, we were supposed to be one of the most compatible signs, so I wasn’t sure if I even believed in that kind of shit anymore.

“Libra, obviously,” she answered with a proud smile. “Social, intelligent, gracious. I’m such a Libra.”

I smirked to myself. Ivy Jade was far from gracious toward me at first, but I was starting to see her true colors. It seemed fitting for her, now.

“Don’t tell me what you are…” she said, stopping in front of the 'spooky swirl' ice cream stand. The smell of fresh waffle cones laced the October air—a scent I inadvertently associated with Ivy Jade. Warm and sweet, it was reminiscent of some strange nostalgia we shared while growing up. Cozy, as I'd describe it.

“You’re very protective,” she said, tilting her head at me. “And the strong, silent type. Guarded, a little,” she observed.

How did she already know me so well after only spending a few hours together?

“And I sense you’re a little moody, maybe emotional,” she continued.

I laughed, looking away. “Didn’t realize I was so transparent,” I said, running a hand through my hair, painfully aware of how flustered she made me feel.

“I knew it. You’re such a Cancer,” she laughed.

“You’ve got me all figured out,” I teased, but my face fell once I realized how fucking ironic that was.

She looked away, her face falling as well. “Air and water signs don’t usually mesh well. Complete opposites,” she mused. “But… look at Roman Knight and Princess Isla. They're complete opposites, and their love story has eight books written about them!” she said, trying to connect some invisible dots as proof. "A burly blacksmith turned hero, with a stubborn princess who enjoys the luxuries of a castle? It shouldn’t work, but it does. Actually, if anything, they make being complete opposites feel like a good thing. Right?”

She gave me a soft smile, and I nodded. “Like a good balance,” I agreed quietly.

“Yeah…” she said slowly, as if the revelation hit her just as hard as it hit me.

Complete opposites. But also, not really. It felt like we were so in sync most of the time.

Maybe Ivy Jade was different. Maybe that exterior of wealth and beauty was just another mask like mine—a character we played for the people around us. But who were we really behind our facades? Liars and cowards? Or timid friends wanting more, holding hands, savoring the softness that our connection created?

We continued our stroll, basking in moonlight as we made our way through the park in comfortable silence.

The crowds were thinning, and soon enough, I realized it was closing time. I looked down at my watch, which read 11:05 p.m.

“Park’s closing,” I told her, stopping in front of the path of purple carnival lights. “Why don’t we check in here real quick?”

She gave me a look. “I didn’t go in there, though,” she argued.

I gave her hand, the same one I’d been holding for hours, a squeeze and tipped my head towards it. “Come on. There might be something worth finding there.”