Page 3 of Florescentia

He let out a languid sigh and then patted my knee. “They can, but most don’t have genius wives with impossible ideas.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bowl, holding a seed up to his lips. “If you say any more sweet things, your teeth may rot.”

His gaze lifted, a concerned hitch in his brow as his tongue swiped against the inside of his mouth, then across the front of his teeth. “No, I believe they are all intact. I will take your feedback into consideration.”

“No more jokes, you will be late for travel.” I popped another seed into my mouth and rose. “We have a busy week. You have everything you need?”

“The notes are in my satchel—”

“Pens?”

“Yes, several.”

“The expensive ones? Can’t give them the wrong impression.”

“Yes, the silver. And—”

“Lucky watch?”

He held up his hand, a silver timepiece with the face on the underside of his wrist.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “You’ve got it, then.” I opened them to find an amused look on his face. “What is it?”

He shook his head, placed his papers on the table, and stood. “I’m the one who should be nervous. It’s like you are the one up for the promotion.”

“What’s yours is mine, even promotions.” I smiled, possibly too wide. My eyes gave it away most times.

He stood before me, his hands on either side of my face.

First, a pause. He took a deep breath, and so did I.

Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the light blue silk he’d bought for me on our wedding day, and secured it around my neck in a bow. We didn’t have much money back then; most of the gifts were heirlooms. But he wanted something new, just mine. A thin, pale scarf with the faintest whisper of blue was all he could scrape up the money to buy. It remained my favorite accessory.

“I’m sorry, don’t let my jitters rub off on you,” I whispered. “I’m proud of you. They’ll love you. You will return a changed man with a new salary.”

“It’s only three days.”

“A good number of things can change between now and then”—I rose on the tips of my toes to kiss each cheek—“for the better.”

“For the better,” he repeated, ending the promise with a kiss on the head. “You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Good, be swift.” I gave a small shove to his chest. “You’ll be late to the train.”

“Yes, my dearest Lucia,” he laughed, leaning over to grab his satchel, perched against the sofa. “Don’t forget, your father asked to see you.”

“Right . . .” I tightened his tie, fussing with a couple of traces of cat hair that were hoping to hitch a ride on his lapel.

Reluctantly, I let him go. He left in a new suit, his stride confident. He was one of those people who moved like water. Nothing could ruin his mood, trip his heel. He just went where the path wandered, trusting he would find his way back, even when venturing in the dark.

Most would assume my anxiety came from money insecurity. They would be half correct. But we were not poor, nor rich, neither uncomfortable nor wanting. Strokes of luck had served us well, with very little friction. But I’d seen my parents scrape by all our lives. I’d promised myself I would never do the same.

We had some money, prestige. While my inventions had supported our fortunes so far, Dorian was happier working till dawn with me than working for others.

The greatest gift life could afford was one of fulfillment and joy. We had the former accomplished, but the latter was still not true for him. I’d pushed, I really had. He’d worked as an engineer for so long, designing things for other people, that he’d lost sight of creating for himself.

The man was made to admire the stars, and he could do that properly as an astronomical engineer. The observatory upstate, in the mountains where the sky became thin, was a haven for a man like him. It might mean buying a second home, but it would be worth it if it meant he was happy.

What he didn’t know was that the position was already his. He would interview, he would compete with others just as qualified, but ultimately, that position had been his the minute my hand dipped through to the Otherside last night.