“Really. It was fine. Your mother is sweet, and your family is … they’re lovely. And very welcoming. Although I shudder to think what would happen if I ever did you wrong.”

“A witch hunt.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

We walked in silence for a moment.

“It was a weird night,” he said.

“It was definitely that. But I mean it—I enjoyed myself. Other than the whole ex thing. I could have done without that,” I teased. But when he didn’t laugh or make a joke, I pulled us to a stop. “I never stopped to ask if you were all right.”

At the question, he looked so deeply into my eyes, I thought for a moment we both might drown from the weight of that long, solitary stare. But just as quickly as it had come, it was gone again, leaving me wondering if I’d imagined it.

With a smile, he said, “As long as I’m with you, everything’s all right.”

And when he kissed me, it wiped the world away, leaving me to believe the same was true.

16

Ophelia

LILA

A handful of days passed easily. I’d taken up semi-permanent residence at the hotel where I spent most nights with Kash, still reveling in the newfound pleasure of his company. While my days were crammed with meetings and appointments and the occasional apartment viewing, my nights were rife with Kash.

I’d been swept up like a summer breeze, easy and warm and with promises of endless sunshine.

It was liberating and terrifying, like riding a bike with no hands. I might careen out of control before I got my hands on the bars, or I could ride on with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. It could go either way, and what a thrill that was.

I hummed happily as I checked my reflection in the mirror of my sister’s apartment. It was my first day off in nearly two weeks—the reconfiguration of the Felix wedding having eaten every spare minute I had—and my only plans were to meet Kash at the greenhouse. I’d dredged up my only pair of jeans and one of my two T-shirts, a fashionable V-neck in white.

The truth of my addiction to white, black, and the occasional shade of gray was that I didn’t have a head for fashion and color, not as it pertained to me. I could choose wedding colors for someone else without a second thought, but my wardrobe was as stark and rigid as I was.

As old me was. As I’d looked over my closet, I made it a point to add some color. Any color that couldn’t be considered neutral.