Page 114 of Carousel

“Ara. Do you really not know the effect you have on people? Have on me? Cosmos, it was like a princess from a Rhavnan fairy tale had just moved in next door to me. I couldn’t believe my luck.”

He sighs – a pained sound that seems to cause me pain just to hear it.

“I tried to convince myself you were probably, you know, stuck-up, or something. But you came over and introduced yourself to us. And you were so kind to Mother. And the more I got to know you, the more I realised you were… incredible. Smart, funny, confident, independent…”

He laughs, strained.

“And I was – what was I? A scrawny, malnourished kid in rags who knew nothing of the world but how to starch shirts, polish shoes and wash pots.”

I’m gaping at him. I could cry.

“You were so much more than that,” I say, my voice breaking. I stretch my neck, and he responds, bending down to me, our foreheads almost touching. “You were kind. You went out of your way to help people, even the stray dogs! You looked out for me and my family.” I bite my lip. “You could have been angry at the world. Been a completely different person. An awful person. But you chose to still be good. That gives you power.”

He’s shaking his head, the strands of his hair catching the sun and flickering a fiery red. “Honestly, Ara. Even today feels like a dream. How you could like me, when I have next to nothing to offer you⁠—”

I try to cut in to protest, but he puts up a finger to stop me.

“Sometimes,” he carries on, hurriedly, “I don’t even want the war to end. Because what will I be after it? At least here, I’m someone. An officer. I have a purpose.”

I let my shock show on my face. “Of course you’ll have a purpose after the war. Me.” I add, quietly, “And mine will be you. Every day. Keeping each other alive. Making each other happy. If that’s not a purpose, I don’t know what is.”

His chin juts, and he closes the remaining distance between us with a kiss.

That movement – just before he kissed me – makes me think of the day he left.

“You were going to kiss me the day you went up with the crew rustler, weren’t you?”

He nods.

“What stopped you?”

He speaks evenly. “You either didn’t like me back, and that would have broken me, right when I was already doing something reckless. Or you did – and then me leaving you wouldn’t have been fair. And if I didn’t come back…”

“I would still have mourned you. I did mourn you.”

He holds my gaze. “I’m so sorry, Ara. Do you still hate me for leaving?”

“No. I understand why you did. If I thought Eric and Old Mother would be all right without me, I might have done the same,” I say with a smile, “And besides. It meant I got to start liking you all over again. And it feels even more special than it did the first time.”

We lie down together in the shade of a palm tree and let the sun dry our bare bodies. I rest my head on Cosmer’s chest and wonder if I could nap for a while. It’s just so peaceful here.

“How much time do we have?”

He reaches for his jacket on the sand and checks his standard-issued pocket watch. “Almost eleven. So, we have about an hour before we need to get you to corrective instruction.”

“What do you think they’ll do to me? Put me in the barrel and drown me and beat me, like they did to Drake?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll be there too, remember? We’ll get through it together.”

He runs his hand down my back, and I shiver. Will my body always react to his like this, forever? I hope so.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore. I think you owe me a massage anyway, don’t you?”

“You were being serious.”

“Yes, I was being serious. Get those beautiful fingers ready.”

“Okay, but I don’t know how good it would be. I don’t know how to give them. I’ve never even had one.”