My neck and shoulders tingle.
I blink and roll them, looking up from the book, wondering how long I have been in the same awkward position, and startle at the sight of Niahm standing a few feet away from me, one hand in his pocket. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, dark gray trousers, and boots. The clothes fit him perfectly. He’s lean, but there’s solid muscle all over his frame. I felt it earlier today when I held onto him.
“Hello,” he greets me with a smile.
“Hello. Were you staring at me while I read?”
His smile turns sheepish. “Only for about a minute. I know better than to interrupt a fellow reader.”
I feel my lips curve up. “You interrupted me anyway with your nosy eyes.” Your nosy, beautiful eyes.
“Apologies,” he says, managing to look chastised and wryly amused all at once. The grayish light of late afternoon makes him look as if he’s glowing.
He scratches the back of his neck, looking strangely nervous, and a sense memory of how I felt when I held his cloak comes rushing into my chest with breath-stealing force.
There has to be a reasonable explanation for that strange sensation of power I felt when I touched it. One that doesn’t seem plucked out from a fantasy book.
There has to be a reasonable explanation for how much I want to run my fingers through the thick waves of his silver-blond hair. How I almost ache with the need to touch him, and my stomach swoops as my brain provides me with vivid images of his lips against mine.
Because otherwise, I fear I am losing my marbles.
It’s been two days since you found your fiance in bed with his assistant, I remind myself. Good men only exist in books. A man as beautiful as Niahm could never want you.
My idiotic fantasies vanish, replaced by a dull, familiar ache in my chest.
However, I can’t be rude to Niahm. Not only because it’s unfair to be brash just because he happens to be a man and a man betrayed me, but because every cell in my body cringes at the idea of purposely hurting him.
Throat dry, I lower my legs, feeling my blood flow return with full, prickling force. I ignore the discomfort and scooch over, making room for him.
“Want to join me?” I ask.
He nods, sitting beside me. “That is a fantastic book. Enlightening, and very painful at times. But it’s all worth it in the end, I promise.”
Not for all of us, I think.
I gulp and bite the inside of my lip to control the burning sensation in my eyes and the back of my throat. Goddess, I thought I’d emptied my reservoir of tears already.
“The prose is gorgeous,” I manage. “I don’t see much sleep in my future.”
Niahm chuckles. “I can’t blame you.”
I meet his gaze, feeling my breath stutter with the beauty of his eyes. Which reminds me… “Do you only use glasses for reading?”
“Yes.” He tilts his head. “How do you know?”
I watched you from across the street, hidden behind a curtain like a total creep. “I saw them on your desk earlier today.”
His lips flicker and his eyes sparkle with knowing amusement. And I just know that he knows. That he did see me staring at him as if he were a cake in a display case.
“I don’t remember leaving them on my desk,” he says. His tone is teasing but not mocking. “How odd.”
“Omega 3 is great for memory,” I tease back.
Niahm chuckles, casually placing his arm on the backrest of the bench, almost touching me. “Then my memory should be excellent, considering how much fish I eat.”
A gust of wind hits him, sending his sea-books-tea scent into my lungs. I have to lock my muscles not to snuggle closer and put my head on his shoulder.
His expression turns serious, almost solemn. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
My pulse speeds up. “Feel what?”
Niahm gently takes my wrist, searching my eyes for permission. His touch sends warmth straight inside my chest, and I nod automatically. He places my palm flat on his sternum, holding it there.
I inhale sharply at the feel of his heart, which beats just as fast as mine. The reverberations seem to echo everywhere inside me. That unknown, pleasantly tight, and warm sensation in my chest increases. My lips tingle as if he’s already kissed me, and it takes all of my willpower not to close the scant distance between us and merge our mouths together.
Somewhere deep inside my mind, a voice whispers that I’m taking leave of my senses again, but I ignore it. “I feel it too,” I whisper.
Niahm smiles as if he’s got the best Yuletide present ever, and in one single liquid movement, he’s kneeling in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Niahm’s smile doesn’t waver as he takes a clam seashell from his pocket, opening it to reveal a ring—a silver ring carved with runes and decorated with an unfamiliar, gorgeous blue-gray precious stone, and two white pearls. It’s perfect, the kind of ring I’d choose for myself.
I suck in a breath, feeling numb with disbelief, wondering—no, hoping I’m having a very odd dream.
The goddess knows most of my dreams are strange.
Niahm takes a deep breath. “I know this may seem sudden, but I know deep in my heart and my soul that fate has brought us together. I knew it the moment I held you in my arms. Would you marry me, Leo?”
He hasn’t let go of my hand, but doesn’t try to put the ring on my finger.
Thank the goddess for small mercies.
My paralysis breaks. I rip my hand away from his and stand. “What is this?”
“A marriage proposal,” he answers, as if it’s perfectly sensible that he’s still down on one knee. As if normal people go around proposing to total strangers.
“Get up,” I say, my voice coming out with more force. “Please get up.”
Niahm does. His previous happiness shifts into confusion and a flash of pain. My heart gives an unpleasant squeeze at the sight, but I ignore it. “Is this some sort of twisted joke?” I demand. “Did someone put you up to this?”
It’s impossible that he has managed to pay someone from across the ocean to further humiliate me, right?
I don’t know.
I just don’t know.
Niahm’s brow furrows. “No. It’s not a joke. I meant it.”
“You can’t mean it!” I protest.
He looks even more puzzled. “Why?”
Because no one could want me. Because I’m broken. Everything in me is in pieces, and nobody wants that. Nobody wants me. “Why?” I ask, incredulous. “Why? I don’t know, because normal people don’t go around proposing to strangers, maybe?”
“I’m not normal,” he says, without an ounce of self-consciousness, taking a step closer.
I recoil two. “So you’re crazy then? Because that’s the only reason I can think of. You’re either mocking me, or something is very wrong inside that head of yours.”
That very pretty head—
Stop drooling over the loon! I command myself.
Niahm blinks, something like realization flashes in his eyes. “I didn’t realize this had the potential to upset you so much.”
A hysterical huff leaves my chest. “How’s that possible? Are you unfamiliar with basic social conventions? Don’t you inherently know that proposing to someone you meet mere hours before is unacceptable in society nowadays?”
He half shrugs. “No. It didn’t occur to me. Partly because I wasn’t thinking clearly, and partly because I mostly find social conventions ridiculous.”
“They exist for a reason,” I rebuke. “So we agree that you made a mistake, right?”
If he admits he went into a state of temporary madness, I’ll feel less like running far away from him.
Maybe there was something funky in his tea this morning. Maybe he ate poorly cooked fish.
Niahm shakes his head. “I wasn’t thinking about the potential strangeness of such a fast proposal, but I won’t call it a mistake. I meant it when I said I believe fate has brought us together.”
Fate made me ill. Fate took my mother away from me. Fate took my Grandma away from Mom.
“Fate can go straight to Hell!” I all but scream.
Niahm’s eyes widen with shock. “Leo, I—”
I run before he can finish his sentence.
***
I run until my legs and lungs burn, and my heart threatens to give up once and for all.
My ears ring and I’m shaking. I put my hands on my knees and take great gulps of salty air.
One, two, three, four…
By the time I reach three hundred, my sight has cleared and my hearing has returned to normal.
I’m still breathing fast. A muscle in my heart pulls unpleasantly and I wince.
I’m standing over a small hill facing the ocean.
It’s breathtaking. The rolling waves hitting the stone create a soothing melody. The cool breeze dries the thin layer of sweat on my face and fills my lungs with a slightly salty, fresh smell that reminds me of Niahm.
I cringe as his proposal, and my freakout over it, replays in my mind.
Part of me still fears he was having me on, but that suspicion loses strength as the image of his surprised, hurt expression affixes itself in my brain like a screensaver.
It was crazy of him to propose to me after mere hours of having met me.
Maybe there are a few tiles missing on his roof.
But, with my head somewhat clearer, I know—I simply know that he wasn’t trying to hurt me.
I can feel it in the shame and remorse making me nauseous.
I groan, covering my face with my hands.
Even if Niahm is crazy, I’ve been very rude to him.
“I’m sorry.”
I freeze, half turning toward the sound of that voice.
Oh, goddess. He followed me.
Strangely, the sharp edges of panic poking at my stomach become duller at the sight of him. His silver blond hair waves in the breeze. His ocean eyes are open, kind, and embarrassed. The sunset’s orange-lilac light makes him look even more beautiful, something that should be impossible. My chest tightens with the desire to touch him, to place my hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat again.
I clench my hands.
No, that is the reason why this mess started in the first place.
His eyes don’t leave mine, but he keeps a careful distance from me. “Perhaps some social conventions have their merit,” he says, head tilting slightly, a tentative smile curving his pink lips.
A hysterical chuckle leaves my chest. “I’m glad you’ve reached that conclusion.” Swallowing, I take a deep breath. “I still don’t understand why you thought that was a good idea.”
His brow flickers minutely. He opens his mouth and closes it again, throat bobbing. “I would explain my reasons right now, but I think you need some time. It’s nothing sinister, I promise.” He takes a measured step closer, as if approaching a feral cat. “May I ask why you thought it was a joke?”
My stomach clenches unpleasantly. “Aside from how random and definitely not normal it is to propose to a stranger?”
Niahm nods. “Yes, aside from that. We’ve established I am not normal. And I am truly sorry that I upset you. But there seemed to be a reason behind your suspicions that I was mocking you.”
I tug the sleeves of my sweater to cover my icy fingers. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nods. “Fair enough.”
I notice then that he has my book. I left it behind in my hurry to run away from him.
He stretches it out to me instead of approaching, leaving me with the choice to go near him.
That makes up my mind.
Taking a bracing breath, I walk up to him, keeping two feet of distance to try to prevent my body’s insane reaction to his proximity.
It doesn’t work.
I grab the book and stuff it in my pocket.
“Do you mind if I accompany you? Perhaps we can have dinner together,” he says.
I lick my parched lips, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.
Part of me wants to say no, but haven’t I come to Elphis Island to be different? To be free? To learn how to let go and just exist without worrying about things like being reasonable?
And isn’t spending time with a beautiful and possibly mad stranger a good way to keep that promise to myself?
He waits, with no signs of wanting to rush me, and that helps me decide.
“Okay,” I agree. The blinding smile that lights up his face makes my heart race again. “With one condition,” I amend.
He takes half a step closer, filling my lungs with that ocean-tea-books scent that makes me want to sniff him like a dog.
“Anything you want,” he promises.
I take a measured breath. “No more marriage proposals.”
That makes him laugh softly. The corners of his eyes crinkle. “No more marriage proposals tonight,” he vows, stretching a hand toward me.
I take it, expecting the warm and sizzling feeling, but it still makes me shudder.
His eyes meet mine, a slow but pleased smile spreading across his face. The energy flowing between us becomes so strong that I half expect to see a physical manifestation of it.
I blink and look away, breaking the daze before I do something reckless, like getting on my tiptoes and kissing him.
And why had he added that ‘tonight’ instead of promising to never propose again full-stop?
He can’t be thinking about doing it again, right? I wonder as he takes us toward the path that leads down the small hill.
And why am I willing to let it go for now?
Ah yes, because I’ve lost my mind.
I risk a glance and meet his eyes again, finding the same charming smile and echoing it with an awkward one.
Who needs to be reasonable, anyway?
