I want to hold her so badly, but my hands are tied. She can only touch me above the neck, and that’s not nearly enough for me.
“Because you are like this. What did you do when you once got trolled on social media?”
“I stopped giving a shit.”
“No, Dove. You quit social media. When you don’t like something, you distance yourself from it. If someone says something about us, you’ll never speak to that person again, that’s what you’ll do.”
She pouts and pokes my cheek. “That’s what weak people do. I want to become strong.”
“Do you know how much your being so emotional contributes to your writing? I love my Dove with her spilled emotions, and everyone who matters loves you the way you are. So you don’t have to change. I will simply kill whoever makes you feel bad.”
She rests her forehead against mine. “You can’t kill everyone.”
“I can,” I murmur. “Happily.”
She kisses my lips. “But I won’t like it. I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”
“Then I’ll have to kill them without telling you.”
She purses her lips. I lift my face and kiss her pursed mouth. She holds my head and presses it to the pillow. “Keep your head here, don’t move it up.”
“Then keep your lips on mine.”
She smiles and kisses me.
Epilogue
Three months later
Avira
All the girls in the room look at me with parted mouths.
“You are looking so drop-dead gorgeous, goddamn it,” Autumn says slowly.
Wen and Lyn nod like robots.
I grin. “I told you.”
I’m wearing Fire on Ice. It appeared magically in my room this morning. I confronted the magician who made it happen and learned exactly what he did.
He had ordered this dress the very same day he tore the one I had tried on. He had kept this dress with him all this time. The designer only makes one dressper customer, and because Zoan had already bought this dress, I didn’t find it and had to compromise with another dress.
And today, he surprised me with this. It’s a relief my size hasn’t changed, or I would have died in regret on the day of my wedding.
My makeup artist arrives, so I sit on the stool to get my makeup and hair done. By the time it’s all finished, everyone has come to see me.
My mom is not at all teary, unlike Aunt Hope, who was crying so much. Well, her daughter has come to another country. My mother is grinning and laughing as her daughter moves from one room to another.
Everyone comes and goes, leaving only my girls in the room.
The door opens after a soft knock, and Daddy enters.
I get up from the stool and reach him. He isn’t looking sad at all, unlike Uncle Damir.
I lock my arm around his elbow.
“Why do you call me pumpkin, Daddy?” I’ve asked him this thousands of times, and he always gives the same reply.
