Lotus

by Jennifer Hartmann

I miss sunshine. I miss her.

I’ve learned lots of new things. The word collywobbles makes me giggle every time I think about it. Collywobbles!

I will save her; I always do. My eyes drift higher, reading over the three words that kept me company for two long decades: The Lotus Chronicles.

Syd’s the damsel he always saves.

“I wanted to see you.” I’m startled by the sound of my own voice as I turn to look at her through a jagged swallow. “I just didn’t want to be seen.”

Maybe my expectations live between the pages of books involving heroes with ten-inch schlongs and magical tongues, performing grandeur gestures to sweep their heroines off their feet.

I was just attacked. I could have been raped. I’m caked in blood from my busted lip, and I can already feel a bruise welting on my jaw. And Oliver Lynch rescued me. The man unable to even touch another human being just fought off my attacker without a second thought.

Oliver responds so softly, I almost don’t hear him. “I always save you.”

“She really likes you.” My lips pull up into a small smile, an instinctual reaction to her statement. I am liked.

look in Sydney’s eyes right now. All I know is this is certainly a look I’ll be keeping.

“There is beauty to be found everywhere…even in the things that scare us.”

“Like every star in the galaxy tumbled to earth and crawled beneath my skin.”

“Joyrides are not usually this eventful,” I assure him. Oliver fiddles with the gears, a small grin brightening his face. “Everything is eventful with you.” Swoon.

“Knock-knock!” My smile is instant when her voice captures my ears. There may be alternative reasons for keeping my window open.

The Queen of the Lotus is no longer a little girl with pigtails, clutching a tattered teddy bear to her overalls. She’s a full-grown woman

She is fierce. She is goofy. She is beautiful. She is Syd.

“I need your wisdom, Athena. What is happening between myself and the girl next door?” The raccoon replies by pressing a sharp claw, a nail like a dagger, right to my heart. Touché.

The truth is, I didn’t have a heart to give. My heart was with a ghost.

His eyes twinkle with authentic joy. Over a fruit skewer. “God, I love you.” The three words tumble off my tongue, unexpected, spontaneous—a potent proclamation. A weight that sinks me, sinks me, until I’m swallowed whole, struggling for air.

My wish came true.

“I’m right here, with you, and I’m still holding on to your heart. Please don’t ask me to give it back.”

“I love you, Syd. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day.”

We’ll face the world together—as a team. The Black Lotus finally has his queen.

“It’s our initials, Oliver. I wished for us.” There it is, in plain sight, gazing up at me: sn + ol

Sydney Neville + Oliver Lynch It’s always been us.

“I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you until my dying day. You’re my best friend. You’re my queen,” he whispers, words spilling out like poetry. “Will you be my wife?”

Our matching tattoos smile back at us: sn + ol