Page 43 of Envy

I stare up at the tall spire of Nelson’s Column that rises up between the four lions that sit like guardians on each corner of the statue’s platform.

It’s like falling through time. Nothing has changed. Except for the gaping hole in my life where my father and sister used to be.

I let go of Graham’s hand and race toward the statue, and just as I’m about to approach it, I realize I can’t remember which of the four lions we’d sat on. My heart constricts when I realize I’ve forgotten. I’ve tried so hard to hold on to every memory. To not forget what my sister’s voice sounded like, to not forget how my Papa’s hair smelled like the clove cigarettes he smoked whenever Maman wasn’t around.

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath and let my mind wander back to that day. Papa had promised that if we didn’t whine once while we were in the National Portrait Gallery, we could climb one of the lions on the statue outside.

I can feel Papa’s warm gloved hand squeezing my mitten covered right hand. Arti’s holding his other hand. We’re laughing and trying to make Papa walk faster. It’s already dark, and the wind has a frigid nip to it as we rush down the steps. We’re almost at the statue when a cluster of pigeons fly right over our heads. Arti and I scream at the same time, and Papa bends over to reassure us that the pigeons have no interest in us. “Look at them. They’ve already forgotten you. They’ve gone to bother St. Martin.” He points to his left toward the big church across from the square.

My eyes snap open, and I whirl around to look for Graham. I spot him right away, leaning on one of the black iron posts that ringed the lions and Nelson’s column, watching me with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I remember which one it was,” I yell back at him. He pushes off the post and heads toward me.

I take his hand and pull him ?

?round to the side of the statues that face the museum and point at the lion facing St. Martin in the Fields. “It’s this one.” I point up at the humungous black iron statue.

“Let’s climb up. Make our own memory here,” he says.

God, I love him so much. And, now I know he loves me. He wouldn’t have done all of this. He wouldn’t be moving to Las Vegas, leaving his mom, his friends, for me if he didn’t feel the same way.

He lifts me onto the base of the lion’s platform and climbs up beside me. And then we both climb to sit on the top of the lion. He pulls out his phone and takes a picture of us.

“Let me see.” I grab his phone and look at us. We’re both grinning like lunatics, and I think my heart might explode.

“Aghhhhh!” I shout my joy up to the heavens.

“It’s great, right?” he asks, smiling like he’s the one who just got the surprise of his life.

“So great,” I confirm and let my eyes roam the busy square.

Even this late at night, there are people milling about. A family of four have been patiently standing in front of the lion waiting for us.

“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat, okay?”

He jumps to the ground in one fluid movement and then turns back to me.

“Let me help you down.”

I lean down, place my hands on his broad, strong shoulders. The muscles move under my hands when he reaches up to put one hand on either side of my waist.

When he lowers my feet to the ground, I keep my hands around his neck and gaze up at him. “What are we eating?” I ask.

“What are you in the mood for?” he answers.

“Whatever I want?” I ask and let my gaze drift to his lips before I look back at his eyes. They’re more hooded and I want him to see that I’m enough of a woman to understand what’s happening.

“Apollo …” he says low in a grumbling warning.

“Yes?” I say, raising my eyebrows innocently.

“What are you doing?” he asks, even though I can see in his eyes that he knows just what I’m doing.

“You said whatever I want,” I drawl.

“I meant food, Sunshine,” he says. But he licks that lower lip and I know he doesn’t mean it.

“I want you to kiss me,” I tell him.

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