“God of God, Light of Light. Lo, He abhors not the Virgin's womb. Very God. Begotten, not created,” I continued to sing.
She placed a palm on the center of my chest and smiled wider, so I took her hand in mine and pressed sound kisses on her fingers, her knuckles, and the inside of her wrist.
She blushed, and I leaned in before touching my nose to hers.
“Did you ever try doing it again?” I asked her.
Her forehead creased, and she lifted her head a little in question.
“Singing, I mean. Or talking,” I said, and then swallowed. “You know, after your parents…”
She shook her headno, and then hiccupped again.
“Do youwantto try it sometime?” I wasn’t expecting her to, or even insinuating that she should. I just needed to know if she ever wanted to, and was perhaps hesitant to try.
Rina seemed contemplative, and then, a look of fatigue took over her features as she shrugged in response.
I wrapped my arms around her tighter. “I’m sorry if it was an invasive question. I didn’t mean to put you in the spot or make you feel uncomfortable, I promise.”
She patted her chest once, and then signed the letters ‘O’ and ‘K’ before running the back of her fingers over my jaw.
I sighed in relief. “I’m glad.” I then canted my head a little. “You know, we could stay here, get some more of that RumCake and keep listening to carols,or,” I said, “you and I can go to your shop, get my car, and spend the rest of the day eating Belgian fries, ceviche, empanadas, macaroons, and so much more at theFrenchMarket. What do you say?”
Rina grinned beautifully and gave me a thumbs up in return, and even bounced a little on her feet.
I chuckled, more relieved that I hadn’t really hurt her with my earlier question, and, unable to resist the urge, I erased the small space between us before pressing my lips to hers.
16. A Measly Bullet
Iparked my car in the driveway and quickly jogged up the stairs before making my way into the house. The living room was toasty, thank God, and as I closed the Dutch door, took off my boots, and began making my way up to my bedroom, I stopped when I sawAvôsitting on the leather couch, just inches shy from the left-side coffee table.
It was past 10, so it was unusual for him to be up this late.
I walked over to him with a smile, and then signed,You’re up late.
He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t put a label on, and then swallowed once. “Where were you the whole day,pequena?” he asked. “The only message you sent me was one during lunchtime, asking me if I’d eaten and taken my medications.”
I grimaced at that. I felt deeply guilty for not having contacted him more throughout the day, and also ashamed to admit that I’d forgotten about it.
Myles and I had spent hours at theFrenchMarket, and he’d only driven us todoAçaítwenty minutes ago so that I could get my car and head home.
I knelt in front ofAvô, fisted my left hand, and rubbed it in a circular motion across my chest.I’m sorry.
“I called the shop, but Remi said you were out with a friend,”Avôstated. “Carina, wherewereyou?”
I could see it on his face – the plea. He was silently begging me not to confirm his suspicion; quietly asking me to prove him wrong.
Well, Icouldn’t.
When I didn’t answer him, his features pinched. “Eu achei que você entendesse e soubesse melhor que isso, Carina,” he said. I thought you knew and understood better than this, Carina.
I worked my jaw when it tingled. I then tapped my chest once, and crescented my hands before turning them upside down and moving them left and right to say,I do.
Avô’sgaze hardened. “Do you really?” he challenged.
I clenched my hands to simmer my frustration at his insistent enmity towards this. I loved him so much, but that didn’t mean I’d let him question my choices as if I were a thumb-sucking infant.
And so, instead of dragging a conversation that would most definitely turn into an argument, I got to my feet, signedGoodNightto him, and ran up to my room. Once inside, I shut the door, pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket, and all but collapsed on my bed before sending Myles a text.
