Crackle of activity, the sound of his steps on the hardwood floor. “Good thing I want to then.”
Chapter Eight
It was strange and almost guilt-inducing to be out of the house and in the city’s dazzle without trying to solve the mystery of myself. To be dressed in a little black dress and high-heeled boots under my fine evening coat and to not stumble into places just to ask waiters and shopkeepers if they’d seen me before. And yet, when I met with Kai, all of my doubts and disquiet melted away. Instant soothing effect of his presence. His luminous certainty against the darkness of my chaos.
For a while we walked side by side down the glimmering street. He told me I looked pretty and that he liked my blue scarf, and I said nothing, only laughed softly, feeling soft, feeling like the way he was looking at me.
“Sorry,” he said then with a repentant little smile. “Maybe this wasn’t a friendly thing to say.”
“No, it’s fine,” I assured him. “You look well too.”
He looked gorgeous, actually. In his long black coat and high-neck sweater, and with his hair combed back, away from his face. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted this to be a date so I could spend the next few hours riddled with the anxious anticipation of him kissing me.
If only I could turn back time. If only I could become normal again, just a person craving love but fearing vulnerability. For this to be my only reservation, my only obstacle to overcome.
“You’re not feeling tired, are you?” Kai asked, raking his gaze over me in his usual, irresistible way.
I shook my head, inhaling the damp, chestnut-scented air. “I love being out of the house when the weather is like this.”
And itwassomething to love, wasn’t it? On a crisp October night, to walk with easy, unhurried strides along a rain-washed street, with the scent of petrichor in my lungs and the splendor of someone’s company by my side. Now more than ever, it was incumbent on me to enjoy these fleeting pleasures, because for all I knew, I could wake up tomorrow morning and lose them as well.
“Glad to hear that,” said Kai, passing a hand over his nape. “I was worried I came off a bit too assertive on the phone.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” I drawled. “I’m used to your dominant personality.”
He huffed out a laugh, baring his flushed throat at the sky. “No, Anya,youhave a dominant personality. I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
Playfully, I nudged his shoulder with mine. “You’re doing alright.”
The avenue was dotted with fairy-lit trees, and the sidewalk was busy with people waiting in lines outside of bars and restaurants. Streams of vehicles were speeding past the dappled road, and the bus at the stop remained staggeringly full, countless strangers’ faces floating in the fogged, velvet-looking windows. Everyone living. Everything moving.
“Very ambitious of me to think we would find a decent place to eat without a reservation on a Sunday night,” noted Kai as we passed by several oppressively packed restaurants.
“This place has really good hot dogs,” I suggested, nodding my head toward the arcade across the street, where a group of teenagers had formed a line before the canteen.
Kai frowned at the unromantic ambiance of paper plates and pinball sounds. “I promised you a proper meal.”
“They also have fries,” I added with a huge smile, hoping to tempt him.
He cocked a brow, affecting disapproval. “Very refined palate you got there.”
I laughed, stupidly happy to be standing here with him, arguing about our dinner plans. Almost like a real couple. “Yeah, to be honest, I’m a terrible cook,” I admitted. “I have such bad eating habits I have no idea how I’m still functioning.”
“Tell you what,” he said in an air of conspiracy, leaning closer with his hands in his pockets, “when I get back from my trip, I’ll cook you a nice dinner. Maybe multiple ones. Make sure you don’t pass out in the meeting room during your heated debates about corduroy miniskirts.”
“Ah,” I sighed at the stars. “Of coursehe cooks.”
“Well, not all of us can survive on fries and toast.”
“I like popsicles too.”
“Strawberry, I know.”
I squinted at him in mock suspicion.
He bit the corner of his bottom lip, looking all handsomely embarrassed. “Whenever we go out for lunch,” he explained, “you always stop at the convenience store afterwards and get a strawberry popsicle for dessert.”
“And you’ve noticed.”
