Page 4 of Sacrifice

“Wow,” she breathes out, and I can’t help but watch the way her eyes light up, reflecting all the colors that dance around us. It might be nothing new to me, this chaos of sights and smells, but seeing it through Aisling’s eyes feels like discovering it all over again.

“Welcome to the real heart of Oasis,” I say, half-proud, half-anxious for her approval.

“Come on.” I guide her by the elbow, navigating through the crowd with an ease born from familiarity. “There’s one truck here that does street tacos like nowhere else.”

“Street tacos?” she echoes, a playful skepticism in her tone.

“Trust me.” I shoot her a confident grin. “They’re legendary.”

We make our way arm in arm, the bustle of the market a vibrant backdrop to this little adventure. Each step we take together feels like it’s weaving us closer, the threads of whatever this is between us growing stronger.

“There.” I point to a cart adorned with strings of multicolored lights and a sign that proudly proclaims ‘Tito’s Tacos’ in bold, flamboyant letters. The line isn’t too long, but there’s a constant flow of people walking away, tacos in hand, expressions of sheer bliss on their faces.

“Two of everything,” I tell the man behind the counter, who greets me like an old friend. Aisling raises an eyebrow at the order, but I just wink at her. “Go big or go home, right?”

She laughs at that, a sound I realize I’d do a lot to hear again. We wait to one side, and soon enough we’re handed a tray piled high with tacos, the steam rising invitingly into the cool evening air.

“Here goes nothing,” she says, picking one up. She takes a bite, and for a moment there’s silence. Then her eyes meet mine, wide and shining.

“Rook, these are incredible.”

“Right?” I say, a satisfied chuckle escaping my throat as I watch her savor the flavors. We meander through the crowd, the noise and smells of the market adding to the night’s electric atmosphere.

“Oasis has changed,” I muse, “but some things stay the same. Good food is one of them.”

“Tell me about it,” Aisling encourages between bites, leaning closer to hear me over a particularly loud group that passes by.

I take a deep breath, the nostalgia hitting unexpectedly hard as I glance around at the familiar streets. “When I first moved here, I got a place at the Bellanova complex. It was nice, you know, but nothing beats having your own space.” My voice trails off for a moment as memories flood in. “Ended up renting this tiny apartment with a view of a brick wall. But it was mine.”

She grins at that, her eyes sparkling with an interest that warms me from the inside out. “And what did you do for Inari?”

“Mostly grunt work at first,” I admit. “But I learned fast. Ended up being their go-to guy for new cocktails—new, more effective Glitter, that kind of thing.”

“Because you’re a genius.”

I snort. “Sure, if you wanna call a drug manufacturer a genius, we can say that.”

We finish our tacos, tossing the paper wrappers into a nearby trash can, and I lead us down another street, this one quieter, lined with neon-lit bars and lounges. “And what did you do for fun?” she asks. “Any of these places worth checking out?”

“Used to spend a lot of time in one of these places,” I nod towards a nondescript door with a faded sign above it: ‘Moonshine Lounge’.

“Looks cozy,” Aisling observes, peering curiously at the entrance.

“Cozy is one word for it,” I reply. “Owned by a woman named Luna. She and I…” I hesitate, wondering how much to share. “Let’s just say we had history. On and off thing.”

Aisling’s laughter fades as she processes this. She bites her lip, a slight crease forming between her brows. “Not gonna lie,” she starts, the words timid in the growing dusk, “hearing that kinda makes me…jealous? Is that wrong?”

“Jealous?” I echo, surprised at the confession and the small thrill it gives me. It’s strangely satisfying to know she cares that much. “I mean—says the girl with three boyfriends.”

“You’re right, it isn’t fair,” she flushes bright pink, making her glow like a star. “I just—”

“Hey,” I say, stopping us in our tracks. I slide my arms around her, pulling her close until there’s no space left between us. My hands find the small of her back, pressing her into me. “You have no reason to be jealous.”

“None?” Her voice is hopeful, teasing almost, but there’s a vulnerability there that tells me she needs to hear it.

“None,” I confirm firmly. “My past doesn’t hold a candle to what’s happening right here.” My grip tightens just a fraction, affirming my words. “Because how could you care about the moon when there’s a shining star right in front of you?”

“Rook,” she laughs, shaking her head slightly. “That’s so corny.”

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