She’sthe music.
And that’s one thing I’ll never have.
Chapter 22Annalise
“Hey. Check this out.”
I’m sitting cross-legged on the living room floor when Alex appears from the bedroom with a few pages of printed paper. Shirtless and shower-damp, he strolls over to me smelling like sandalwood and tea tree. There’s a lightness about him, a weight lifted.
It makes me smile.
Gone is the man from hours ago, overworked and stressed out, hollering for refires while the ticket rail overflowed. The kitchen was a war zone. Grills hissing, fryers spitting, the scent of charred meat and melty cheese clogging the air. By midafternoon, his shirt was stuck to his back, his fingers raw from heat, his patience running on fumes.
But he’s my Alex again.
As if the day’s grind was all a hazy dream.
He stops just short of my chaotic mess: notebooks, pens, sheets of music, and a taupe mug filled with round three of milk-diluted coffee.
“Are you working on some sort of thesis?” Both arms cross over his bare chest, the papers dangling from his hand.
My smile falters. I need to tell him about the wedding gig. Tonight.
Right now.
Unlinking my legs, I lean back on one hand. “I have some news.”
He nods, biting his lip. “Me too.”
“Really?” I eye the loose sheets of paper again, curiosity eclipsing my nerves. “You go first.”
Alex takes a seat beside me, moving the half-filled mug out of the way, and plops the stack on top of my notebook. “I did it. It’s booked.”
Eyes rounding, I stare at him for a beat before dragging my gaze to the printout in front of me.
It’s an itinerary. For Thailand.
A flight out of Boston the night before Thanksgiving, touching down in Bangkok just as the city wakes up. Two nights in Chiang Mai, tucked inside the walled Old City, wandering temples and lantern-lit alleyways. Then south to the islands. Blue-green water and white sand, a bungalow right on the beach where the ocean would be the first thing we saw every morning.
There’s even a monkey excursion.
I can almost feel the humid air clinging to my skin, taste the mango sticky rice, hear the hum of motorboats drifting toward limestone cliffs.
Alex watches me, expression alight with anticipation. “We’ll get lost in the night markets, eat everything we can’t pronounce, take a longtail boat to the Phi Phi Islands…” He nudges me gently with his knee. “Just escape for a while, you know? No stress, no work. Just us.”
Just us.
Words lodge in my throat. Because he planned all this for me. Because he knows how much I’ve wanted this.
Hot pressure burns behind my eyes. “Alex…this is incredible.”
“I know.” He smiles.
“Are you sure we can leave the restaurant for that long? Over a holiday?”
“It’s already covered. Don’t worry about the job.”
I swipe at the warm rivers streaking down my cheeks. Then I leap into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
