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Ris sits on the bench, sweeping his son up into his lap, and Ezra immediately goes for the keys. A part of me feared that Ris would take offense to Ezra slamming his palm into the keys – I guess I still have a small prejudice against dark elves.
But he didn’t protest. He didn’t even try to correct the toddler and show him the proper way. He just started to play around Ezra’s hands, singing a made up song about bath time.
And when Ezra looked up at him and started babbling, Ris changed the lyrics to incoherent noises to match his son.
I stand and watch them as they play, smiling softly, and Ris catches me. “You know,” he murmurs to Ezra. “Your mama is the best jinrayahaist that I have ever heard.”
Ezra turns to me with wide eyes that match his father’s expression. “Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”
“Yes,” Ris coos. “Maybe if we ask enough, she’ll give us a treat.”
I roll my eyes at him. “You exaggerate.”
He tsks at me. “You and I both know that I don’t lie about musical talent. And you have astounded me since the day I met.” He pats the seat next to me, and Ezra leans down to mimic him. “Come play.”
I relent, taking my place at the bench next to him. Just like old times, I start to play and he joins it, but now we have a third set of hands adding a new layer to our music. I don’t sing, and Ris rarely does when we play together, preferring to tease me instead.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches me with soft wonderment on his face that makes me bite my lip.
“Has he ever heard you play?” His eyes dip down toward Ezra.
I shake my head. “I haven’t…” My chest constricts. “I haven’t played the jinrayaha without you.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Really?”
Our hands cross around each other until we are so close that we’re nearly pressed against each other. “I couldn’t without you.”
The moment builds between us until the tension feels like it’s going to pop, and just as he starts to lean close, something jerks my hair.
“Ow!”
I look down to see Ezra, who had gone quiet as he listened to us play, holding some of my strands he ripped free. I laugh, picking him up and blowing against his cheek. “You can’t steal Mama’s hair.”
Ris chuckles as he plays a foreboding melody. “The dangers are lurking nearby,” he tells me in his spookiest voice.”
But I can see in his eyes that he’s disappointed that we lost that moment. His eyebrows are pinched together and his smile is too forced. I know what it looks like when he tries to hide emotion behind laughter.
I just wonder if he can see me doing the same right now.
One.
Every time I find myself getting too close to Ris, one reminder is all it takes. I may have given my heart to one man, but there is one reason we can’t be together.
One person.
Rhovier.
20
RIS
“Here,” Sienna hands me a plate and I carry it to the table. It smells incredible. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to be eating her – yes, hers this time – cooking like this every night for the last week.
And I can’t believe I’m with her again. She’s really here. I keep having to remind myself of that fact—that she’s really here again and she’s not going anywhere.
At least, not as long as I have a say in it.
Ezra carries a basket of rolls to the table as well, toddling behind us, holding it so very carefully. He’s quite independent for someone his age. It’s fascinating to watch. He’s smart and clever and he’s picked up on several instruments like a pillas to a flame.
