Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
The professors met with me and made many concessions for the ways in which I was still catching up with the others. But I was determined to learn and so within a few months, I already felt more confident in my ability to do the work at the level of my classmates.
And I understood what Zakai had been saying when he’d talked about my confidence. He’d meant that it would improve in areas that had nothing to do with him. Some part of me felt sad and uneasy about that, but another part rejoiced. I was beginning to see that I was more than I’d given myself credit for. More than anyone had given me credit for. Even him.
I met a few friends in class who asked me to study with them in the afternoons. I showed up hesitantly, shy at first, but before long, I was interacting and contributing to the discussion. I didn’t know this side of myself, but surprisingly, I liked her very much.
I waited for Zakai every day before class, and sometimes he showed up, but after the first couple of weeks, mostly he didn’t. I was distressed by his absence and couldn’t understand why he would miss the opportunity to gather knowledge. Why didn’t he love it like I did?
Zakai had sought knowledge once, but I wondered if it had purely been a means to an end—leaving Sundara far behind. As for me, learning in and of itself set my soul on fire. And as much as I wanted to spend time with Zakai, I couldn’t bear to leave the classroom. When he was in class, I would glance back at him and see him staring at me, that sad, thoughtful look on his face, but when I asked him what he’d been thinking, he’d just shrug and say he liked to look at me, that was all.
I’d always been able to read Zakai like a book, far before I knew letters or words, but now? Now his expressions were a mystery. He’d grown quieter than ever before, tending to some inner world to which I had not received an invitation. And a part of me began to wonder if I had completely understood him as I’d thought. And if I had never mastered Zakai’s soul, how could I begin to comprehend all his bends and nuances?
The bruises on Zakai continued to appear. Just as one was fading, he’d show up with a fresh one, swollen and ugly. “Have you told someone? That man needs to be removed from your house!”
“Nah. I give as good as I get. Don’t worry about me.”
“I do worry about you. Who else am I supposed to worry about?”
Zakai pulled me close, leaning his forehead on mine, the look on his face so somber my breath hitched. “Yourself,” he said, and then in answer to my frown, his tone softened. “It’s okay to worry about yourself, Karys. It’s okay to pull away.”
I grabbed his shirt, pressing as near as I could while still looking into his troubled eyes. “I’m not pulling away. That’s craziness.”
“No, little star. That’s life.”
I laughed, rubbing my nose against his in an attempt to make him smile, but my attempts failed. “My life is nothing without you,” I said softly.
“No, that was once true, but it’s not anymore. I see you making friends and I’m happy for you. People are drawn to you, Karys. You’ve always been easy to love. Me? Not so much.”
That wasn’t true, although I did admit that Zakai could be as prickly as a cactus when he wanted to be. His constant scowl surely made strangers wary of approaching him. I’d never been afraid of his thorns, and he’d never used them to prick me. But where he was sharp, I’d always been soft. Where he was enigmatic, I’d always worn my heart on my sleeve. And he was right on another front too: I was thriving in this new life. I had more than I’d ever dreamed. But it all meant nothing if I no longer had Zakai. Physically, I felt utterly alone. For so many years, we’d slept side by side. Every night. My body yearned for him. His touch. The sound of his breathing. His kisses. His smiles. His affection. My body felt . . . empty without him. Nothing, no words, no new friends, could replace that loss. My mind might be exhausted each night, but my body pined for his.
I called Zakai’s house nightly on the only phone available: a landline that was busy half the time, or if someone did answer, they’d holler for Zakai and if he wasn’t in the immediate vicinity, they’d simply tell me to call back later.
“He didn’t show up for school again?” Braxton asked one night after I’d set my new cell phone down on the table a little too harshly, angry and upset. I turned around to see my uncle standing in the hallway, staring at me where I stood in the living room, looking at the city beyond. His gaze moved down my body, clad in only a nightshirt, and then quickly met my eyes.