“That’s the date I bought my home.” He looks like he wants to say more but shakes his head at some unspoken thought. “What happened to the rose cottage?”
“I used my microscopic inheritance to pay the mortgage. Before I left, I gave a key to Mum’s favorite gardener, Mr. Plemmons. I couldn’t bring myself to rent it out and have someone else touch their things. And Mr. Plemmons has taken care of it.”
“Are your grandparents still in England?”
“No. Grandpa Snow passed away two years ago. My grandma lives in Prague now with my uncle. He teaches at the Charles University there.”
Aiden caresses my cheek, looking into my eyes. “You really have no one back there, do you?”
“The U.S. is my home now. It built me back piece by piece. It’s been a good four years. Better than I could have ever hoped. This was a country worth fighting for.”
His eyes still at the last sentence. I see a flash of anger there before he controls it. I don’t understand it so I squeeze his hand and press my index finger to his lips. He kisses it, like I knew he would. I smile and press it on my forehead, not quite in the center but close by. He smiles, too, dips his hand in the water and splashes me.
I laugh. It’s the sound the night needed. I look at the coins, wishing I had brought my wallet.
“How many of these coins here are yours, Elisa?”
Bloody hell! I need to be careful around him. Nothing seems to escape his vigilant eyes.
“A fair few. A girl needs her luck.”
He chuckles. “That’s not very scientific.”
“Luck never is. Otherwise, it would be predictable.”
He digs into his pocket. “We can’t mess with luck,” he says and hands me a few quarters.
I take the coins with a smile, closing my hand into a fist. Then, I turn my back and shut my eyes. Over the last four years, I have wished for my supplement, for the Solises’ safety, for Reagan’s finals, for my green card. But today, I don’t wish for any of that. There is little luck can do for me now. So instead I make the only wish my mind has been able to form since that horrid day a week ago. I blow on the coins once and throw them over my shoulder. They splash with a satisfying plop.
When I turn, Aiden is standing right next to me. He pulls me to his chest and I rest my cheek there, feeling lighter than I have ever felt in this garden.
“What did you wish for?”
“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“Or maybe it will.”
I look up at him, dissecting his face. What do I have to lose? Everything, that vicious voice inside spews in terror. The closer we get to dawn, the more panicked it becomes. Of its own volition, my wish bursts from my lips.
“I want another day like this!”
Aiden frowns, his eyes on my lips as though the words are still hanging there. He puts his hands like a vise around my face, his eyes searching mine relentlessly. I have nothing to hide in this wish so I simply watch him, begging in my head. One more day, please. One more day.
“You want another day of embargo?” he asks, sounding awed.
Is that what I want? No, not exactly. Sometime between his first kiss and this last wish, things changed for me. Instead of wanting to share nothing but the present, I now want to share everything but a part of the future. And that’s a big difference.
“No. I want a day with you. We can both choose what we share. Not by rules, not by embargo, but because we want to.”
He shakes his head slowly and pulls away. He runs his hand over his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose. Is the idea of another day with me this difficult?
“It’s your choice what to share, Aiden,” I say quietly. “I want the day to be fun for you too. Just like you made today for me.”
“And in the end, you will tell me what you’re hiding?”
“You have my word.”
He takes a deep breath and nods. “Then another day it is.”
Chapter Twenty-One
New
There is something about the scent of a rose that defies biology. You smell it with your mind first before the rest of the senses fall in rank at its fragrance. So it’s the first thing I register now as something soft dances on my lips. I inhale as the scent becomes stronger, mixed with sandalwood and cinnamon—
“Oh!” I gasp, flinging my eyes open.
Aiden is sitting at the edge of the bed, his face eclipsing the ivory centifolia rose he is fluttering over my lips. He seems to have gotten better looking overnight. It’s not just the dark jeans and the light blue shirt that offsets his eyes. It’s the breakfast tray on the nightstand and the lopsided smile the moment I open my eyes.
“Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?” he says, tapping the centifolia on my lips.
Nothing bad about this “oh”. Nothing at all. Oh, oh, oh! He is here. And still mine for a day. He lays the rose on my pillow and leans in slowly, his intoxicating scent rendering all roses redundant. He brushes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“Is the scientific study complete?”
I blink a few times. “Huh?” is my Einstein response.