He smiled. “Then let’s get something to eat.”
“Do you think Last is all right? Luvic, if he’s here?”
Justice shrugged. “I’m sure they’re happy too. How couldn’t they be?”
He ducked into a building filled with sugar and icing smells, syrupy strawberry and apricot, and chocolate-filled pastries. Glass cases and wooden shelves were overflowing with delectable cakes layered with whipped cream and chocolate, glistening jam tarts, pastel-colored macarons, and gold-flake-dusted fruit trifles.
We sat at a round marble table in a brightly lit corner of the café and stuffed ourselves with more desserts than I’d ever eaten. Miniature strawberry tarts. Tiny cotton-candy puffs. Cheesecake rolled in crumbled cookies and drenched in hot fudge. Cakes with heavenly cream and crumb layers as light as air. Pink fizzy drinks that changed flavor with every sip—first cherry, then raspberry, then watermelon, then orange and lime and butterscotch and caramel popcorn, and finally, chocolate liquor tinged with the smoke of a crackling winter fire.
The people at the café kept bringing more plates to our table, one after another. “Eat! Eat! No, there’s no charge. Everything is free here. Everything is shared.”
I guzzled the drinks—blue fizz next—and ate more tarts. Jam and sugar coated my lips, and Justice laughed and wiped it free with his fingers. I shared my drink with him and giggled when he coughed. “Cantaloupe!” His least favorite flavor on earth. But he liked it here. He wiped mirth-filled tears from his eyes as I climbed onto his lap and fed him a cherry tart.
Each dessert I ate made me only want more. They didn’t fill me up. I never felt overstuffed. They only made me hungrier, more achy, more needy. I wanted to eat and eat, and oh . . . never stop, because the treats were so good, so delicious, and if I just ate a few more, then I’d feel even happier. I couldn’t stop thinking about them; about how I wanted to eat them forever. I’d try the towering rainbow-colored cake next. And then the tower of red velvet cupcakes. And then maybe I’d lean at the edge of the chocolate fountain behind the counter, smear my fingers through the pool, and lick the melted chocolate free.
Maybe Justice would even want to bathe in the chocolate fountain with me. It was bigger than a bathtub. It could fit two. We could coat ourselves in chocolate and lick it free.
Oh.
Hmm.
Finn!
I batted the thought away. There was an invisible rope a part of me was holding onto. It was annoying. It connected me to the old world. The place where people were miserable. The place where people didn’t realize that happiness was right under their noses. Here.
Justice smiled at me, gripping my hips and nipping my fingers as I brushed a strawberry against his lips.
Outside, a troupe of musicians strummed a melody that melded with the cloud’s raindrop song. The crowd was thinning, and the golden daylight was fading.
It was twilight, but the twilight that existed when there wasn’t a sun. It was like a lamp with the dimmer switch set to low.
Across the street, a couple French-kissed, stroking their hands over each other. I imagined, in seconds, they would progress beyond kissing. Justice noticed where I was looking, and when he turned back to me, his eyes were half-closed and slumberous.
“Do you think kissing here is as good as dessert?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Should we try it?”
Finn!
The rope pulsed. It glowed golden and tugged at me. I tried to shove it away.
“Mari?” Justice wiped his thumb across my cheek. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
He held the glistening tear up to the light. “Then what’s this?”
“Happiness.”
Justice stared at me and wiped my cheeks with his thumbs, brushing away the wet. “You must be really happy.”
I nodded. “I am.”
He turned when the women who’d been serving us wandered past, out toward the street. “Where are you going?” he called.
They pointed in the direction of the city center. “The festival. It’s almost time! Come on!”
