Page 75 of Partnering with the Artist

Lifting my gaze, I let his shirt fall as I meet his eyes. “I’m so glad they knew you. I hope…I hope I can also know you that well, someday.”

He laughs as he pulls his coat on and begins doing the silver buttons. “I hope you never have to save me from an imploding organ. But. Yes.” Carefully, he cups my face and kisses my lips. “I want you to know me so much more.”

“Tomorrow you’ll really be okay?” I ask.

His smile softens, and he says, “If you stay by my side, I will manage.”

“I can’t express how much this means to me. I know things will be fine, but you don’t have that same peace. It feels cruel to ask something so big of you. It feels cruel that I’m letting what happened with Harry keep me from bending when you arevery different people. Why do I get to appease my trauma while making you fight yours?”

“You love your parents, princess. I understand why you want me to meet them before we get married. I also understand what you’ve just been through with your ex. If this provides you peace of mind for the rest of our future, I understand why that’s important. I want you to feel safe.”

“I want you to feel safe, too.”

He chuckles. “We’ll work on that one, okay?”

Wrapping my arms around him, I squeeze. “But…”

“No buts. My trauma is dead. Yours is very real, very alive, and very possible. My fears right now are unfounded. Logic demands I recognize that there are good parents in this world. Your worries about me may or may not be unfounded, because humans can fool themselves into justification so easily. The level of trust we need is something earned. I am willing to earn it. I am willing to take steps toward your peace, because I love you. This is hard, but it is not bad. And if I survive it, I will be that much closer to healing from my own wounds while you, princess…” He kisses my cheek. “…will be that much closer to loving me without fear that I’ll chew you up and spit you out when I’m done.” He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight. “Tomorrow, I will be okay. And the next day, I will be even better.”

Chapter 28

?

Ah ha ha ha. I am not, actually, okay.

Zakery

Drear. Fabulous. Nothing beats driving through traffic toward my doom for several hours under overcast, drizzling skies. The only thing keeping me from steering toward the nearest bridge and thrusting myself off it is Maelin. She’s seated beside me, glowing like the moon. No hat or sunglasses needed while the sun is so adamantly not around. Her full beauty remains unobscured.

I’m grounding myself in every strand of her hair as it moves while she talks, half certain I’ve welded our hands together.

The car GPS says we’re five minutes away, delayed due to traffic.

We’re going to be late to the time that we told her mother and father, which means I’ll already have a bad mark against me.

Maelin’s boyfriend? Yeah. He’s notpunctual. And a liar as well. Said he’d be here at a certain time. Wasn’t.

I might throw up.

I don’t know how I’m going to manage this.

Evengoodparents are judgy. And I know I’m going to hear every passive aggressive undertone. What if I freak out? Breakdown? Prove I’m unworthy of Maelin on both large and finite scales? What if they take one look at me and ask why in the world I’m wearing a thick all-black coat in the summer?

What if they’re determined to make me prove myself, but I don’t know how to?

“Zakery, are you listening to me?” Maelin asks.

What if I don’t listen to their daughter when she’s being very cute and very perfect? Swallowing hard, I say, “No.” I fight for air. “I’m sorry.” I bring her hand to my mouth, kiss her lovely slender fingers. “What were you saying?”

“Um.”

Um. I love her littleums. They’ve gotten more rare, the more comfortable she’s gotten around me, but still. Occasionally, she blesses.

“I was saying there’s a noodle place I like around here. If we leave early enough, we can stop there for dinner before we head out. It serves ramen.Fancyramen. In big, big bowls. My nose always runs whenever I eat there. It’s excellent for clearing out the good old sinuses.”

Lightning crashes across the sky in the distance, heralding in a storm worse than this drizzle.

“I’ve always wanted to get two bowls. Not because one is small. No. They’re massive. But I think I just hate deciding the flavor I want, and then, also, I could probably eat about fifteen bowls they’re that good. But do you know thepriceof one bowl? Yeah. It’s like between seventeen and twenty-four dollars depending on what you get. My impoverished self couldnever. I have, however, been saving up from a very, very nice job I got a few weeks ago. And since my sister barely lets me get fancy cereal, I am loaded and ready to eatsomuch ramen.” She beams at me, eyes glittering, like a replacement for the absent sun. “Do you like ramen?”

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