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“Do you want to pull my hair again?” I say flatly. “A little.” “What, are you six years old?” I demand. “Who fights like that?” “It worked, didn’t it?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” I don’t smile back. “Maybe you should’ve picked a fight days ago.” “Welcome back, Your Highness.”
The whole time, I imagined holding Rian under the water until he drowned.
I need to reverse time. I need Corrick back. Sometimes I remember his voice so clearly it’s like he’s beside me, and the memory is so painful that I think my chest is caving in. Please, my love.
“Are you in pain?” He glances away from the water to say, “No. But you were.”
“If I let you go, you’re going to behave yourself, yeah?” The boy swallows and nods, eyes still wide. Rocco’s fist uncurls from his shirt, and he takes a step back. The boy darts forward to punch him right in the crotch. “That’s what you get!” Rocco doubles over immediately.
“Well, you’re small for seven. You look like you’re five.” “You look like the back end of a pig.” Olive scrambles to her feet. “Ellmo!” Ellmo picks up a handful of pebbles and chucks them at the guardsman. To my absolute shock, Rocco picks up a small handful of his own and lightly flings them right back. Ellmo yelps in surprise and skitters away, which makes Olive glare at them both—but the boy bursts out laughing. “Are you five?” I say to Rocco. “He started it.”
But before the door falls closed, I notice Quint flip open the little book, just turning back the cover to that list of dates. At the bottom, he adds one more.
The first time I saw you smile, I thought, ‘I should write down the date because this will likely never happen again.’ So I did. Then it did happen again, a month later, and I wrote that down, too. And then again, six weeks after that. It became a . . . a habit.
“I said, ‘It’s me, you arrogant prick.’ ” “Nice opening.” “Thank you. Then I said, ‘Tell Tessa I’m alive. Tell her I said, “Mind your mettle.” Ask her if it’s really me. You’ll have your answer.’ ”
Cory. The name slams into me so hard that I feel the impact. It’s a fist to the gut, an arrow to the chest. I can’t breathe. My heart feels like it must have stopped. My knees seem to be buckling. Lochlan moves forward to catch me, and before I can stop myself, my breath is hitching against his shoulder. “I know,” he says, and his voice is so very quiet. “I should have been here,” I say, the words a desperate gasp.
He catches my hand and turns me back around. Without hesitation, he drops to one knee. There’s a ring in his hand, and a determined look in his eye. “Tessa Cade,” he says, “I’m ready now.”
