Page 99 of Crossed By the Stars
I shrugged carelessly, but my heart squeezed. I wanted her to be okay.
Dawson looked down into my face, sorrow and regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be.”
“I’m the one who put all of this in motion. My desire to be the better man…” he trailed off, looking toward Violet as she talked with Dax.
Dax’s eyes met mine over the top of Violet’s head, and I gave Dawson the words Dax had given to me, trying to lessen the hold guilt had on him. “Dax told me that his father once said that the world of the Moris didn’t know how to end in anything but violence, and I think that’s true, Dawson. I think, no matter what had been the catalyst, the ending would have been a fiery one.”
I could tell my words didn’t do much to assuage the remorse he felt. I understood. The same feelings were embedded so deep in my veins it would be difficult to ever wash them from my soul.
Dax left Violet to join me, as if he’d read the emotions in my voice without ever being close enough to hear them. He tugged my fingers into his just as Violet wrapped an arm around Dawson’s side.
“You ready?” Dax asked.
I nodded.
The four of us made our way out of the temple into the night. The small town north of Tokyo, where my mother had made her home for as long as I could remember, was quiet but not silent.
Violet broke away from Dawson and hugged me. “We’ll see you in St. Micah in January.”
Her voice was breathy and filled with tears, as if we were ending instead of starting a new beginning. She and Dawson were coming to the island so we could finalize the purchase of land we were buying. Our intent was to leave the lab and testing facilities in San Francisco and do the majority of our production on the island. Dax and I were determined to make the dream he’d woven for me a reality.
Dawson and Dax slammed each other on the back in a typical male hug, and then Dax was pulling me to the car with our security team trailing us.
By the time we got back toKaasan’s, the exhaustion of the day was catching up with me. I’d struggled to keep my mask in place for hours, to show nothing to those who were attending. The black dress and stockings I’d worn were filled with the scent of incense, cloying and heavy. It made my skin crawl. I longed to be free of it all, to wash my body and put this behind me.
I headed straight for my bedroom suite in the house that had technically been mine growing up but one I’d rarely lived in. None of it had truly ever belonged to me. This world of my parents’ in Japan had always been a mirage.
Dax and I were halfway to the room when he realized he’d forgotten something in the car. He kissed me and told me to go on, that he’d be right back. I didn’t think twice about it. I just shut the bedroom door behind me and pulled off the heavy clothes. I dropped them into the trash can in the bathroom, never wanting to see them or smell them again, not wanting these memories hanging in my closet.
I started the shower and then turned to lean on the bathroom doorframe, lifting my eyes to the ceiling of my bedroom. I’d left the lights off, and the soft, shadowed moonlight filtered in through the skylights. The stars glimmered above me through the clear glass. It was the only thing I’d ever loved about this house?the stars ablaze in my room.
Dax sauntered in with a smile on his face that was joined by an arched eyebrow at seeing me in nothing but my bra and underwear.
“What are you doing,mon bijou?” he asked.
“Getting rid of it all. Them. The scent. The memories.”
He stepped forward, bringing his hand from behind his back to hand me three flower stems. They were all lilies, but I only recognized the stargazer he’d given me as a teen.
“Hopefully, not all the memories,” he said softly.
“Where did you get these?” I asked breathlessly. Winter was hardly the time for them to bloom in Japan.
He shrugged with a suave smile. “That’s my secret. This is a stargazer lily,” he said, pointing to the pink one that I knew. “It’s common but sensational. Bright and scented.” He pointed to an orange-spotted flower. “This is a tiger lily. Dramatic but solitary because it usually only has one bloom per stem.” He pointed to a single stem containing a cluster of pink and yellow flowers. “And these are heartstring lilies. They are known to bloom together. A mix of colors. A blending of families.”
While I stared at the lilies, my heart pounded because I knew he was sending me a message in his typical Dax way, meaning behind each word.
“When we get to St. Micah, we will always have them blooming. In the garden, in the conservatory, in our room…just to remind you.”
My eyes met his, my breathing coming in tiny pants as I asked, “Remind me of what?”
“Of the girl who believed in the power of the stars, of the woman who had the strength to stand alone, and of the future where you will never be a single bloom again.”
I placed the flowers on the bathroom counter behind me and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m already going to let you kiss me, Dax. You don’t need to say something so lame to try and butter me up.”
The words from a decade ago came easily back to my lips, and I loved that he recognized them, his eyes twinkling, his lips curling upward.
