Page 45

“Zuri,” she cried, cutting me off. “My child, where are you?”

Tau came closer, showing me the seconds counting down faster than they should.

“Auntie, listen,” I shouted before lowering my voice. “I only have a few seconds. I am safe. Tell everyone that I am safe, and as soon as I can, I will be in touch. There is someone who will ensure nothing bad will ever happen to me. I will be very far away.”

I could hear the soft cries. My cousins in the background. My uncle’s gruff voice. The shop was closed and they were together.

Tau tapped the watch.

“I love every single one of you. Let the girls know too. Thank you, Mama Mwende.”

I hung up before she could reply. She was the second mother I had been blessed with in this life.

The phone went dark in my hand. For a moment, I could not move.

Tau sat beside me on the bed and pulled me close. It didn’t stop the tears from falling, but it eased some of the ache within me. He did not say it would be all right. He did not say anything at all.

I cried until there was nothing left but breathing. His shirt was damp beneath my cheek. He smelled of clean cotton and warmth, and his heartbeat knocked slow and steady against my ear.

The silence stretched, and for once I did not fill it. I lay in it. I had once feared his silence so much that I could barely look at him. Now I understood it. It was not empty. It was a place where I did not have to be strong.

Slowly, I lifted my head. His face was close. He was watching me, and he waited, and he did not move.

I reached up and let my fingertips rest against his cheek, below the pale line of the scar. His skin was warm. A muscle flexed beneath my palm and went still. I let my hand slide down the side of his neck, feeling the pulse jump there, and then rest on the soft cotton of his top, over his heart.

His hand covered mine. His eyes closed for a moment.

Neither of us said a word. We did not need to.

I laid my head back against his chest and let the quiet hold me.

❦ ❦ ❦

We clung together until the morning. The sharp knock on the door made me grumble. It was worse when I lost the expanse of his bare chest and the scent of him when he pulled away.

“One minute,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on my cheek.

The door opened, but the voices were hushed. I heard a rustle, a murmured thank you, the door closing again.

I smiled when I saw his tartan pyjama bottoms, the ones I had bought for him with his own money. The soft brushed cotton was warm. He would need it.

He crouched beside the bed until we were almost eye level. I pushed up onto my elbow and saw his hand slide across to me. He held a small box, dark blue velvet, worn at the corners.

“Ordered from the Armenian. Mrs Aduke.”

My heart did something stupid. I told it to behave.

He opened the lid. Two rings sat in a bed of cream satin. One large, a broad band of brushed gold, heavy and plain, meant for a man’s hand. One small, so delicate it almost vanished against the satin. A solitaire sat at its centre, ringed by a halo of tinier stones, each catching the morning light and throwing it back in a shiver of colours.

“Tau,” I breathed. “They’re beautiful.”

“They are a placeholder until you say yes,” he said, but his voice was rougher than usual.

I opened my mouth to ask yes to what, and closed it again. He had said enough for one morning.

Okay, note to self: await real proposal.

He took my left hand. His thumb was warm against my knuckles, and I felt the faintest tremor in his fingers. This man, who had thrown a grenade into a pocket without blinking, was shaking. He slid the ring on slowly. It stopped at the base of my finger and fit as if it had always belonged there.