She was playing florist among the tombstones like she was on a mission from the afterlife and wouldn’t stop until every grave was filled with flowers. It drew stares from passersby, but who was I to stop this girl’s insanity? And of course, she hid behind me like a scared rabbit. If I even hinted that we should move along, to continue the date, she shoved a bouquet into my hand with one of her charming glares, as if her little existential crisis was my responsibility to solve for the betterment of humanity.
I even tried to rally a guard to my cause, making him believe that Dalia was trying to dig up a corpse, but instead, he gave her a map of the cemetery and told me how lucky I was to have such a kindhearted woman by my side. My patience was running low, and my brain was exhausted by all of this kindness.What do you have to do to take a girl out of a cemetery nowadays?
“On one condition,” Dalia said, and by this point, I was ready to agree to anything. “I’ll buy you a cake, and you have to blow out a candle. It’s your birthday after all.”
“I’m not eight, Dalia.”
She wiped her hands, dirt buried under her nails. “You can’t be the one taking all of my firsts, and you won’t fight me on this.”
“Fine, then, we’ll buy a candle, and I’ll blow it out on your body. We’ll make it fit between your breasts before I eat you and—”
“No, I’m buying you my favorite dessert,” she cheered, striding past me, but at least it got her to stroll out of the cemetery.
But I wasn’t done suffering yet.
After two hours of driving, all I got to do was pollute the earth even more since almost every bakery in town was closed, and the restaurants weren’t faring any better. Grumpy Dalia was even worse than the euphoric one, so I judged that now wasn’t the best time to inform her I didn’t even like sweets.
“This one is open!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat when she spotted the little French bakery, which looked like it had survived the apocalypse with its weathered facade.
I parked like a jerk right in front. She was already bounding out of my car before I’d even come to a complete stop. I trailed her like her reluctant shadow. Once inside, she stood on tiptoes, rang the bell, and eyed the pastries like she was window-shopping for her next victim. A mustached giant emerged, looking like he’d seen his fair share of chaos for the day. Too bad for him.
She flashed him a saccharine smile. “Hi! Please tell me you still have aneclair a la pistache?”
“We do,” he said, unsmiling.
She turned to me with wide eyes. “See, we found it!” Then she turned back to him. “Two of them, please, oh and maybe… that chocolate cake over here, or no, thetarte à—”
“Give us everything you got.” I sighed.
“Levi!”
I shrugged, handing the man my credit card. “I’m bringing the choices to you.”
“I’m buying the pistachio ones!” Dalia protested, rummaging for cash in her pockets. “And do you also have a candle somewhere?”
The guy frowned. “Do I look like Santa to you?”
“Yes,” she beamed. “Please, you’ll be my hero. It’s his birthday, and he needs a candle!”
I squinted my eyes at her.Her hero, him? Really?He was built like a truck, but he certainly wasn’t the sentimental type to be softened by—
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’m buying your dessert,” Dalia cheered, looking insufferably pleased with herself. “Oh licorice! It’s been forever.”
She rushed to the candy section and filled a plastic bag with licorice.
I snorted. “No one likes those candies.”
“I do,” she countered, placing them on the counter. “They were my favorite candies as a child.”
My body involuntarily stiffened, my stomach twisting. She’d gifted them to me back then because shelovedthem.
“I don’t think you remember, but…” Her voice trailed off momentarily, then she swallowed. “Licorice made me think of you. Not everyone appreciates them, it’s true, because it tends to push others away. It’s not a classic candy; this one is strong and distinctive, but if you take the risk of tasting it, you discover that it’s actually sweet behind its harsh dark exterior.”
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. It was as if a glitch had occurred in my programming, causing me to momentarily freeze as I tried to debug the unexpected input. She had always been one step ahead of me. I had tried to figure her out, butshehad infiltrated my defenses.
The man returned with a lit-up pink candle on the pistachio dessert, and she handed over her cash to pay for it while I took care of the rest. She handed me my dessert as she claimed the bag of thirty-four pastries and the licorice for herself.
