“Actively unhappy. Almost miserable. If you give it back to me, I’ll actually just burn it.”
Jackie laughs, looking at them with fondness as she sets the minidress back in Amina’s closet. “Wouldn’t that be worse, Marwan?” she teases. “Imagine the waste of that, the environmental cost.”
Lili sighs. In the mirror, her reflection toys with the thin bracelet on her wrist: tiny chain, gold, barely noticeable, the nazar Amina gave her for her birthday. A bracelet she even forgets she has on when she’s in the shower, that makes her feel like herself. Against her skin, the dress feels light and thin, like water; her whole life, these last few weeks, feels like water, a river rushing past her ankles, joy claiming space in her days.
Last night, she’d texted him before she’d fallen asleep in his bed—excited and finding it difficult to sleep, thinking of seeing him tomorrow.
(11:58 p.m.) If you need help with a dress, my EAs can have options brought to the loft based on what you’d like.
(11:58 p.m.) no no I’ve got it
(11:58 p.m.) what’s the dress code?
(11:59 p.m.) you said gala so like formal dress?
(11:59 p.m.) Black tie, unfortunately.
(12:01 a.m.) so sweats and a crop top?
(12:02 a.m.) Yes, if you’d like.
(12:02 a.m.) and BYOB, I assume?
(12:02 a.m.) Precisely.
(12:03 a.m.) perf hope you like orange wine!!!
(12:03 a.m.) Orange what?
(12:03 a.m.) cant wait!!!
“Come on,” Jackie says now, grasping Lili’s hand. “Let’s do your makeup. There’s this new blush trick a makeup artist showed me on set today, I want to see if you’ll like it.”
“Aleksandr?”
Stepping out of the elevator, Lili spies his suitcase against the wall. Just back from the airport. Down the hall, she hears a door close. She hops onto the kitchen island without thinking—expensive dress, delicate silk—but there’s no tug of fabric, no tear. Looking down, she tries to keep the dress from tangling between her legs or catching on the sharp spikes of her stilettos, taller than she’s used to.
“Having trouble?”
She glances up; Aleksandr, walking out from the hall. He smiles, doing up his cuff links—handsome to the point of beautiful, as always, as unfairly as ever; somehow more difficult to take in after days apart, as his gaze, almost mischievous, skates over her. Something soars in her chest at the sight of him, warmth she’s been missing, and a grin overtakes her own face, matching his growing smile, and she feels the urge to run at him—
Lili clears her throat. “Want me to do that?” she asks, pointing at his sleeve.
A knowing edge in his smile pushes into the territory of a smirk. Hedoesn’t need help with cuff links, she knows; it’s a second-nature habit, like shrugging on a jacket or doing up shirt buttons.
But Aleksandr drops the cuff links into her waiting palm.
“Do you know how?” he asks, settling a hand on her thigh—smoothing along the silk of her dress towards her hip, like he’s familiarizing himself with the shape of her, again.
Lili scoffs. “Of course, I knowhow. Honestly.”
Aleksandr laughs, squeezing her leg. She makes herself concentrate. Under her fingers, the sleeve of his shirt is crisp, starched. The scent of him, dark with cologne, fresh from a shower, makes her ache.
“There,” she says, looking up when she finishes his second sleeve. “Done.”
And she—she isn’t prepared for the way he’s looking at her.
The intensity of his stare: It combines pride, affection—lust, hint of incredulity—excitement like mischief, warmth like joy, and more, there’s more—
