Chapter 23 #2
“Hug?” Denny spread her arms, but backtracked at once at Eris’ hesitation. “Too much. Okay.”
“Sorry.”
Too much was verbatim how Eris was feeling. She was feeling too much. Her skin felt too tight, crawling from a tension she needed to vent before it burst and turned into a snappy bitch.
“Don’t apologise,” Denny soothed. All the love she wasn’t allowed to physically squeeze into Eris was pouring out of her eyes, as tangible as the embrace she was holding back.
Being near her was like standing by a crackling fire in cold darkness.
You could feel her warmth, bathe in her light, her halo of good wrapping up all around you like angel wings.
And Eris might find the idea of being hugged overwhelming at the moment, but this didn’t mean she couldn’t give Denny what she needed.
So she opened up her arms and let Denny walk right into them, holding her so tight she was afraid her ribs would creak.
Denny laughed, a sound so lovely it chipped away a big splinter of Eris’ distress.
She wished she could bottle up the joy that hearing this sound gave her and send it to her past self to let her know that there was this wonderful light waiting for her at the end of the tunnel, that one day all the misery and fatigue and helplessness would be just a distant memory.
Don’t give up. Stay strong. She’s coming for you. It will all be worth it.
“I think you could use a little timeout,” said Denny when they parted.
There was no denying that, not when Eris was visibly vibrating with repressed anxiety. Visible to Denny, anyway.
“How does a walk to the bank sound? I’ll give you my card to deposit the money.”
Ignoring the staggering awareness that she was being trusted with an awful lot of cash and the access code to a fat bank account, Eris gave Denny a pointed look. “You need a break, too.”
“I’m the boss. My breaks aren’t a priority.”
“Bullshit. I’ll go to the bank if you decompress.” Denny chewed at her lip. “I’ll watch the shop,” Eris insisted.
“What if someone comes in?”
“I can deal with them.”
“You hate dealing with anyone.”
“But I love you.”
Denny melted in that moved look of hers that turned her lips downward and pebbled her chin.
“I work here now and I’ve been told I can assemble a pretty mean bouquet.”
Unable to summon any further objection, Denny bowed her head with a nod. “I’ll be in the office to cry it out for a few minutes.”
“Go to the lab. There are pillows to scream into.”
Shortly after the lab door closed behind Denny, Eris could hear her tip had been useful.
She needed that, too, albeit punching a bag would’ve been more effective for her.
Old Eris would be out looking for trouble.
She missed it sometimes, how easy it had been to find release in violence.
Finding healthy coping mechanisms was difficult, but she couldn’t just drag her battered self home in the dead of the night now.
She had Denny, and nothing mattered more than Denny.
No one’s well-being had ever taken precedence over her own.
The imperative of survival had never allowed her this luxury.
Not that she’d got close enough to anyone to consider putting them before herself.
That was one of those things she had been studiously avoiding since way before running away from home.
A couple came in asking for a simple bouquet for a hospitalised friend. Eris pushed down on her nervousness and put on what Denny referred to as a Customer Service Poise.
The man had a very loud speaking tone and the woman wouldn’t stop rambling about the entire history behind the friend’s hospitalisation.
Eris’ auditory sensitivity didn’t take kindly to either.
Her self-control rattled, but she kept a solid rein on it.
She forced a smile while suggesting yellow chrysanthemums and daisies based purely on what she’d picked up from Denny’s passionate discourses.
The bouquet turned out decent and she even managed to take the payment without fucking up. Despite her sweaty palms, she marked it down as a win.
Now she definitely needed a break.
“Was that the bell?” Denny was coming out of the lab, eyes pink and a bit puffy. She was noticeably more relaxed.
Eris told her about the customers, showed her the receipt of the transaction. Denny showered her with praise for how well she’d handled it, which was an exaggeration, but no objectivity could dampen Denny’s enthusiasm.
“You can go, if you want. Rocco should be back any minute.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Trusting me, I guess.”
“That sounds wrong.” Eris squinted at Denny’s wrinkling nose. “I feel like the word trust implies some extent of doubt. I don’t trust you to be reliable.” Denny’s head tilted, eyes narrowing in a subtle smile. “I know you are.”
Eris bit down on a smile of her own. “You and your sexy brains…”
Denny blushed. Hard. It ripped a laugh out of Eris. Out of all the tons of compliments Denny received on a daily basis, that was what got her.
“I’ll write you down the PIN.”
“Don’t you ever write down your PIN anywhere.”
“I have to! My muscle memory knows the sequence on the ATM keyboard, but one second of hesitation and my mind goes blank!”
“Please, tell me you don’t actually walk around with your PIN in your wallet.”
Denny nibbled at her lip. “It’s saved in my contacts under Uncle Carl.”
Eris couldn’t help a chuckle. She pressed a kiss to Denny’s cheek. “It’s just four digits, I’ve got this.”
In the office, she separated the cash in two stacks and slipped each into a boot. She did the same with the card, all under Denny’s watch.
“Is it weird that I find it kinda hot that you hide things in your boots like some kind of gangster?”
“Gangsters don’t put stuff in their boots. They don’t even wear boots.”
“You know what I mean!”
Eris pushed to her feet, standing less than an inch shy of Denny’s lips, glancing down before brushing a kiss on them. “You’re a funky little thing, Gardenia.”
Denny had no chance to complain about the name, because Rocco sauntered in with his usual flair, waving a paper bag above his head. A buttery fragrance spread all around.
“Oh my god, it smells so good!” Denny avidly sniffed the bag as Rocco pried it open.
“Regretting your choices, eh?”
A mournful whimper rose from Denny’s throat. Rocco pulled out a giant cookie and held it between his teeth while drawing out the strawberry muffin Eris had requested. He tossed it to her.
Denny stared, wide-eyed. “Since when did you like strawberry muffins?”
“I don’t.” Eris flipped the muffin to her. Denny caught it with a moved puppy look that sparked a flutter of warm tingles in Eris’ chest. “Laters.”
* * *
It was a fifteen-minute walk to Lloyds Bank. Oxford Street would be teeming with people, but she had her brand new headphones and a ridiculously cheesy playlist that was entirely Denny’s fault.
Every time she set foot out of the door, Eris still marvelled at how cleaner everything was in this part of the city.
No piles of rubbish on the ground or lined along the road.
No reek of piss. Polished, curated buildings.
Plants and flowerbeds everywhere. A different world altogether, compared to what she was used to.
There would be a day when she wouldn’t feel an outsider here, but she didn’t see that happening any time soon.
Normally, Denny would go to the ATMs outside to deposit, with Eris watching her back. Being on her own, Eris opted to go inside. She got some weird looks from the clerks when she reached into her boots, but they lost interest in her as soon as they realised she intended to deposit money.
It took a grand total of two minutes. She left with her receipt and a peculiar sense of fulfilment. She could get used to this—light office work instead of heavy lifting. As long as she could blow off steam at the gym, she’d be alright.
The headphones were terrific, the acoustic insulation so good she could barely hear anything through them, even in the mayhem of one of London’s busiest streets.
She had to elbow her way across a cluster of overexcited Chinese tourists outside Selfridges, passed a brand new Dyson store, a Costa, a swanky hair salon.
She halted, belatedly processing a sign in the window. It said: ‘The best rate for virgin hair in London!’