Page 193 of Insolence
“We are,” she agrees with a pathetic little shudder. “But please, El, just talk to me from now on. Ineedhonesty and direct communication from you, the same way you need me to respect your boundaries. Without answers, I drive myself crazy. Whatever the issue is, I promise I’ll do my best to be reasonable, but I can’t abide the withholding of information any longer. Not when it affects me.”
Love for her floods me. A river bursting a dam. I’m so overwhelmed, at first I can’t reply.
Taking her chin between my fingers, I lift her face to mine. “Here’s our new deal going forward: we’re starting over, you and me. Only honesty and directness from us both from now on, all right?”
“And respecting one another’s boundaries,” she adds.
“Even when we disagree,” I nod. “Even when we get angry. We talk to each other and work things outtogetherfrom now on. How does that sound?”
“Deal,” she sniffles, nodding and dashing the tears from her cheeks. “Will you tell me something?”
“Anything.”
“Was I always like that before? Charming and confident and completely irreverent?”
“Always.”
A smile curls the corners of her mouth. “I think I would have liked Past Me.”
With a sigh, I pull her closer. “You were never afraid of anything. Very rarely angry. It took quite a bit to rile you, actually.”
“Ha,” she gives a humorless laugh. “And now?”
“I told you once, a long time ago, I’d never not want you, never not love you, and I meantthat.Beforeour soul-tie. And nothing about that would change for me now without it.” An ironic chuckle falls out of me. “For gods’ sakes, we’ve been ruling and ruining each other’s lives since you walked up to me in Nehel and defiled my painting. The crazy thing is, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I do need you to promise me something and mean it this time.”
“Hmm?”
I place my fingers beneath her chin. Lift it and look into her jewel-blue depths. “Don’t you ever,everscare me so badly again.Not like you did pulling that stunt with Lydia today, and not like you did pledging yourself to the goddess. Do you understand me, Itissa?”
“I won't. You have my word.”
“You come tomefrom now on. Whatever it is, we’ll talk. Figure it out together.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers.
I bring her face to mine. Our kiss is long and lingering, gentle and surrendering. It carries the pang of longing and the exquisite agony of something dangerous and addictively dark but irrevocably ours. Her hot tears wet my cheeks.
“Your roses,” she says, suddenly pulling away. “Your thousand-petal roses—”
I frame her face between my hands, thumbing away the fresh tears. “They’reyourroses, Tiss. Always have been. You loved them before you knew me, and I love them now because I love you.”
Halfway between adoration and disbelief, she whispers, “I remembered last night that they were mine.”
“My first year here was difficult,” I say, slowly. “I was reconciling a lot of things. Missing you terribly, even though you tore my heart out of my chest. I was trying to figure out how to get by without being found out. Hiding what felt like endless secrets.
“One night, unsure where else to turn, I prayed to Eisha for a sign. The true goddess—not the bloodthirsty image of her the temple upholds. I asked her to show me I’d survive this hell.
“When the temple opened that spring, our very first visitor brought a big bunch of thousand-petal roses to lay at Eisha’s feet in the Gallery.” I smile at the memory. “There were so many of them, and so many more bouquets that followed. I figured she wouldn’t miss a few roses.”
Tiss’s breath stalls in her throat. She suddenly feels so small, so fragile in my hands.
“So I snipped five blooms. Propagated them. Three developed strong enough roots to plant. Two of them survived. It took them two years to establish their roots again. This past year they’ve really flourished, though.”
“With the way you dote on them I’m not surprised,” she smiles.
“Every time I’ve looked at them or smelled them, it’s almost as if you were with me again. If even for a short while. I didn’t feel so alone.
“Same reason I whipped up that pepper jelly in a fit of nostalgia last fall. Same reason I pickle blueberries every year, even though I can’t stand those horrid things. It’s always been for you. About you, my love.”
