Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Everything I thought I knew about my past is wrong.
I don’t know who I am. Nor what my goals are now that fencing is gone and justice will be served.
I’m scared of turning into Vera, prioritizing all the wrong things.
I believe, with every ounce of my soul, that I’m better for you than Eileen. But I don’t want to dive into a relationship without knowing who I am first.
Instead, I settled for a simple, “I’m afraid what I’m about to ask you is selfish.”
“I want you to be selfish.” He circled my wrist with his fingers and raised the drink to his lips, taking a sip exactly where I’d left a ChapStick mark. “Consider me your personal genie. Your wish is my command.”
“Tell me something about octopuses,” I blurted out, getting last-minute cold feet.
Just do it already, you chicken.
“Hmm…” Zach buried his nose in my hair, inhaling my shampoo—which, in true mooch fashion, happened to be his. “If that’s your idea of a selfish request, we’ll have to revisit the dictionary.”
“Please.”
He closed his eyes, sobering up, and I wondered if he thought this would be the last time he gave me an octopus fun fact.
His eyes shot open. “Octopuses have eight tentacles.”
“Wow. Who would have thought?” I rapped a knuckle on his forehead. “No wonder you’re famous for that two-hundred-something IQ.”
“I’m not done, brat.” He tapped the tip of my nose. “I’m surprised you managed to survive twenty-three years with all that patience.”
“Sorry.” With my free hand, I mocked a zipper, sliding it across my lips and tossing the key.
“Excuse me, missy, but absolutely not.” He picked up the imaginary key from the floor and used it to unlock my mouth. “I have a lot of plans for that mouth of yours, and it needs to be open for all of them.”
I rubbed my knuckles against my cheek, fighting the heat. “Carry on.”
“In Mandarin, the word for four sounds like the word for death, which is why four is the unluckiest number in Chinese culture. I was born on the fourth day of the fourth month of the year. Eight, on the other hand? It’s the luckiest number.” He pulled back until we faced each other, nose to nose, mere inches apart. “You’re my good luck charm, Farrow Ballantine. Even the universe knows I need you.”
It was the closest he had ever gotten to saying he loved me.
My heart rebelled against my brain, threatening to tear out of its arteries and jump onto him.
Don’t do it, it begged with each thump. Stop this.
“I want a consolation prize.” I jerked my thumb at the Go board. “For losing the game.”
He arched a brow. “Is this the selfish request?”
I nodded, diving in. “Promise me—”
“I promise.”
“I haven’t even told you what the promise is.”
“Whatever you want from me, it’s yours.”
I sighed, sparing a glance at the empty glass container where my pendant should have sat beside his.
What is meant for you cannot be taken away.
I lowered my chin, staring at the floor, rushing out my request in one breath. “Promise me you won’t contact me for one entire month.”
“Excuse me?” He went eerily still. “And if I can’t live without you?”
“You did for thirty-three years.”
“That was before. And it was hardly living.”
“We’re not even dating.”
“Then, let’s start.”
“You’re engaged.”
“I’m breaking up wi—”
I held up a hand, stopping him. “Can I explain?”
“Yes.” His reluctance rivaled a toddler’s in the face of Brussel sprouts.
“These hands used to hold swords and slay dreams.” I stared at my open palms. “Now they’re just… empty.”
“I can get you an Olympic spot.”
“Even if you could, I don’t know if I want it. I don’t know what I want in general, now that Vera and Andras are locked up, my reputation is ruined, and I learned that Dad gave up everything for me.”
Zach tugged the edge of my sleeve. “His death isn’t your fault.”
“I know that logically, but I need time to accept it. Time, Zach. It’s what I’m asking for. To heal, to figure out who I am, and to know myself well enough to know what I want. I am so scared of turning into Vera, chasing all the wrong things.”
“You are nothing like Vera.”
“And yet, every ounce of me fears becoming her.”
I pressed a hand to his chest, studying him. He looked so frustrated, and angry, and confused, I wanted to abort mission, make a U-turn, and leap into his arms.
But I couldn’t.
“I love you, Zachary Sun.”
My first. My only. My always.
I knew, even before I said it, that it was true. I fell in love with him like the snow. The more I fell, the colder it became.
“Farrow—”
I held up a hand again, wanting to lower it when it looked like he’d combust on the spot.
“I don’t expect you to say it back. In fact, I don’t want you to. Not now, at least. I just want you to know that I love you.”