Chapter 43
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
The universe is laughing at me.
I wish I were being dramatic, truly, I do, but after waking up having jizzed in my briefs like a teenager from a particularly inappropriate dream about Adhira, I cleaned up and wandered into the kitchen to find her streaking bare-arsed naked across the living room, looking for a clean T-shirt to change into. My T-shirt, no less.
And barely an hour later, we’re strolling the shops in search of gifts for Archie, and I’m supposed to just pretend neither of these things ever happened.
“This crossword looks right up your alley, princess,” Adhira snickers, tossing the book at my chest.
I catch it before it can hit the ground, baulking at the cartoon eggplants littering the cover, and because I’m a glutton for punishment, I flip through the pages. It’s impossible to tamp down the look of horror twisting my face, causing Adhira to cackle so hard I fear she might run out of oxygen.
Tossing it back to her, I shake my head. “Absolutely not. Pick something a little less likely to give that old man a heart attack.”
She rolls her eyes, stuffing it back on the shelf. “He’d think it was funny, but I’m not into consumerism, and I doubt he’d actually complete the crosswords, so I’ll refrain.”
We continue through the shops, purchasing crosswords, then find a small stand specialising in international sweets to purchase a few Scottish treats.
I know she’ll miss Archie with her last infusion coming up on Tuesday, but I’m grateful to him for keeping her sane through her treatments. I just wish I could’ve been there for her sooner, if she’d have let me.
When we’re finished, Adhira grabs my hand, tugging me down a sketchy-looking alley, and me being me, I follow without complaint.
“Are you leading me somewhere to get murdered?” I ask, false horror lacing my words.
“Yep!” she shouts, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I follow her to the end of the alley, where we make a sharp right onto a cobblestone street lined with brick buildings and balconies draped with clothing drying in the uncharacteristically sunny September weather.
She stops in front of a set of open wrought-iron gates, a marble fountain set into the rounded entryway, the sun glittering off the water.
I step through the entrance with her, and it’s like falling into another dimension. There’s laughter spilling out around us, people smiling, couples basking in the sun, and children tossing coins into the fountain, making wishes that I hope come true.
I stare in awe at the butterflies dancing from flower to flower, a peaceful feeling whispering through me as we make our way to the ticket counter.
Adhira scans a barcode on her phone for tickets she’s already purchased, and my heart warms to a dangerous degree at the realisation that she’d been thinking of me.
I’m not an afterthought to her.
“I figured we should enjoy the sunshine and refuel you,” she says, chuckling lightly.
I tilt my head, bristling as I flick my gaze to hers, realising she’s already got her eyes on me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re always so busy being the light for everyone else, I thought it was time you received some of those rays,” she explains, gesturing up at the sun. “And seeing as I’m just about the least sunshiney person on the planet, I figured the botanical gardens and UV rays would do the trick.”
She has no idea. She sees herself as this cold, closed-off person, and in some ways that's true, but when you earn her trust, she glows brighter than any star in the galaxy. I only hope that someday, she’ll learn to see herself the way I do.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe out. You're perfect. “Thank you.”
I hold her gaze even as my anxiety urges me to look away, to spare myself the stars swimming in her eyes or the twitch of her lips at how happy this gesture has made me. I want her to know. I need her to know.
I see you, Adhira Shah. And there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t irresistible.