The Knight Of The Rose (28 page)

laugh. “I know that look. But...safe to say I’ve never seen it on
your
face before.”

Or you never noticed it before.
“What look?”

He took a deep breath, studying me carefully. “You don’t think straight when you’re hungry.

Just...eat, then we can talk.”

He’s right. The hollow, quivering void in the centre of my body may be partially due to the

lack of nutrients.

I bit into the t oast, and the peanut butter and jam swirled around on my tongue with t he

prefect consistency; it didn’t even stick to t he roof of my mouth. Mike sat quietly beside me,

grinning and chewing—making me want to throw the toast down and kiss away that smirk.

Wait, no, kiss him
while
I’m eating the toast—it ’s really t oo good to put down. “Mmm. You’ ve

always been the best at making toast.”

“Must be the chef in me,” he joked.

“So, if the chef in you makes good to ast, what can the cop in you do?”
That was suggestive,

Ara
, my inner voice jeered.

“I could arrest you? For dangerously good looks.”

I choked on t he toast for a second, nearly losing it out my nose. “That’s the worst joke I’ve

heard in ages.”

Mike chuckled. “So, I’m still king, then—of bad jokes?”

“Right? I forgot about that,” I mused. “No one here gets it. They think you’re just trying to be

funny, and not succeeding.”

“Don’t worry. I get ya’.” His teeth showed with his gentle smile.

“You always did. So—if you’re king, I’m queen, then?”

“Pardon the bad joke again, but...” l eaning forward, he stroked my cheek and, with his lips

nearly against mine, said, “—you’ve always been my queen.”

My breath touched his, expell ing from my lips in a short huff. What is it with him? Is he

blind, or dumb, or just plain ignorant? That’s two times today he should’ve kissed me, and now he’s

calling me his
queen
. Does he want me or not? Maybe I have bad breath. “Okay, Stop it.” I sat up a

little further and put the toast down, reluctantly, as a ful l speed rant shot off from t he starting line.

“Mike? What are your intentions? You keep playing this game with me—saying you’re in love with

me, but acting like you don’t want me. You touch me and pull away, or you say things to my dad that

make me think I’m imagining all this, and when we’re alone, you—it’s like you pretend we’re

together and then remind yourself that we’re not. Why? Why do you do that if you want me? Why do

you keep confusing me, Mike. I can’t do this. I can’t be the girl that takes charge

and marches

forward. I’ll never be that girl. If you want me, you have to make it clearer than this. You have to be

consistent.”

“Ara?” Mike frowned, surprised. “Where’s this coming from, baby? What’s wrong?”

“This is what’s wrong. Us!” I yelled and tried to stand, but he took my hand and pulled me

back down, grinning as his eyes lit with expectancy.

“Are you saying that...you
love
me?”

“You know I do—otherwise I would’ve told you already that I don’t.” I lowered my head.

“Holy shit!” Fists of elation flew into his hair. “Oh, baby.” He looked at me, and without

touching my skin, cradled his hands around my face—like he was going to grab it, but hesitated. “I

can’t believe it. I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. You have.
No
. Idea.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Baby, nothing’s changed. I —I never sai d anything to your dad ab out not wanti ng you.

What’re you—when was this?”

“The other day, when you said that thi ng about going home al one. I don’t do long distance

relationships, Mike—they don’t wo rk.” Even though I ’ll love David fr om afar—for the r est of

forever.

“Ara, I didn’t mean that. I was...” He looked frustrated. “As if I was going to tell your dad I’d

asked you to come home with me. He’d have pulled out his shotgun right then.”

My eyes became smaller with an insistent smile. “True. I suppose.”

“Baby, I want you. You know that. I...I want nothing more than for you to come home with

me.” He looked at me for a long moment. “And...you know I’d look after you, right?”

He would. He’d take very good care of me; love me, protect me, and I’d never want for

anything. “I know,” I said softly.

“Then...come with me.” He took my hand, his gentle touch was littered with a hopeful

energy. “You could finish school, still go to uni—be a teacher—like you always planned?”

“Mike?” I hesitated.

“Please?” He looked down. “Don’t say anything now. Not if you’re going to say no. Just. Just

think about it, okay? Tell me aft er the ball—before I go back home. But just think about it.

Please?” But...it would mean moving away from my da d—away from my family. Yet, I’d be with

Mike—be where I should’ve been all along. “Okay. I’ll
think
about it.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, seeming so open, so vulnerable—almost like the smile was the glass

case around his porcelain soul. “You know?” he said suddenly, releasing a really deep, tense breath,

then looked away—far away to where his thoughts were on the other side of the window. “Whatever

you choose? I already decided I can’t go back—not without you.” A warm grin lit his face then. “If

you stay—I stay.”

But you can’t kiss me?
The little fold between my brow s tightened. “What about your

career?”

“Ara, I could’ve joined Tact ical six months ago. But you know how dangerous it can be. If

something happened to me, I ...” he paused, thoughtful. “I never wanted to leave you alone, but

when—” he paused again, “when you moved away—and when you fell in love with someone else, I

decided that if I’d lost you, I’d make a perfect candidate to risk my own li fe because it’d be worth

nothing without you in it.”

“Mike? What a horrid thi ng to say. Your life is worth more than anything to—” I drew a

deep, exasperated breath. “Why would you think like that?”

“It’s not like suicide, okay. It’s just that I’d never have joined if I had you to look after—it’s

no life for a man in love. Neither is being wit hout you.” Mike’s eyes soften ed as they scanned my

cheeks and my lips. “When you told me you fell in love with David, I all but fell apart. I thought I’d

lost all my chances, for good. But...I don’t need a hot-shot career if I have the girl I love. You are
all

that will ever matter to me, Ara.”

“So you’d move here? Throw it all away? What would you do for a job?” the voice of reason

within me challenged.

“I’ll be fine. I used to be a chef, remember. I can get work anywhere.”

“But you’d need a working visa?”

“Or—” He took my hands again and looked at me with those charming, caramel-colour eyes

that melted my heart like maple syr up on pancakes . “Or, we could get marri ed—you’re still an

American citizen, right?” his tone softened on the end into a shrug of his shoulder.

“You’re never getting married. Remember? You
hate
wed-dings.” I laughed.

“No.” He shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t get married until I found the right girl.”

“And you think
I’m
the right one?” I stared into his face, my words coming out with way too

much sarcasm.

“I do. With all of my heart, Ara. You
are
the one,” he said with a slight laugh. “You always

have been.”

“Mike. You haven’t thought this through. I mean, you’ve only been here for a week—”

“No. Trust me, I’ve thought about t his—for a long time.” He nodded. “I just wanted to be

sure about how you f elt before I asked you. I uh, I don’t t ake rejection as well as I’d like to think I

do.” We both laughed sof tly. Then, he inched closer, and the serious Mike I’d come to know more

recently slipped into place. “All I’ve been waiting on is you—for you to realise you love me, and

then—that night, when I didn’t kiss you—”

I looked away, feeling the pain of the night I lost my mother etching into my heart.

Mike lifted my chin with his fingertip and pulle d my face toward his. His lips were so close

that I could smell the peanut butter on his breath. It smelled nice.

“—You took me by surprise, Ara. I always imagined we’d get ma rried first, before we made

love. I wanted everything to be right—f or you.” He shook his head. “I was such a fool. I should’ve

taken you when I had the chance. And then, when you left, I thought I’d lost you forever. I thought

maybe if I c ould come over he re and steal you away, take you back with me, I could make

everything okay again, the way it should’ve been. Then you met David—,” his voice lowered, and

my eyes watered uncontr ollably at the very mention of his name, “and I los t you all over again. I

came here to say goodbye. I came to see you one last time before I let you get on with your life. But

you’re not happy. I thought you would be. But—” the warm breath he exhaled brushed my

collarbones when he leaned his forehead against mine, “I can see how much you’re hurting. I don’t

think David’s good for you.
I’m
good for you—you belong with
me
.”

He’s right—David’s not good for me, and that’s why he’s gone—that’s why my heart feels

like it’s been trampled on, and why I want to rip it out to stop the pain. I’ve been kicked in the gut

too many times now, with love, and I can’t possibly take anymore.

Crying was no longer optional; wa rm tears turned cold as the chill in the air from the stormy

night before left its mark on my cheeks. “Mike, I—”

“Shh. Don’t speak, baby. Don’t say anything. I know. I know all about it.”

“All about what?” Fear widened my gaze.

His shoulders dropped. “I have a confession to make.”

“What?” Oh no, my diary. I wrote everything in there; everything about Mum and Harry and

Mike and David—David and his
peculiar
diet. “Did you read my diary?”

“No. No way. I’d never do that.

No. I—” He pr essed his lips together . “I stole David’s

number from your phone and...I called him.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you were so sad. You didn’ t even notice how sad you were. I saw you tr ying to be

happy, trying to pretend everything was okay. But I’m not stupid, Ara. I knew ther e was something

up with you. I’ve known you all my li fe. All of
your
life for that matter.” Mike took my hand. “I

knew he was hurting you. I—I was afraid he might be one of those controlling types; you know, who

hurts you and makes you feel like you need them to feel good about yourself—” Mike smiled and

pressed his thumb to the crease between my brows. “I was wrong. He’s a decent guy, Ara.”

“Well, when you talked to him—what...what did he say?” I asked delicately.

“He told me he’s leaving—that you couldn’t be together. He told me you wanted a family one

day, and a normal life, but he couldn’t give you that.”

“So…” Mike’s words echoed in my mind, “—he...what, he told you to
have
me?”

“It wasn’t like that, Ar—” Mike rolled his head to one side. “He just said that he knows I’ll

make you happy, and that’s all he ever wanted for you.”

David gave me away? How could he love me so much that he could pass me on to another

man? How could he love me so little that he could let me go?

My heart felt unsteady.

Mike waited for me to speak, his maple-colour eyes, full of love and compassion, focused on

the thoughts as they spread across my face.

I can’t be mad that he cal led David. I feel hurt that he kn ows everything—embarrassed, and

I’m sad that David’s never coming back, but it isn’t Mike’s fault. It’s so like him to do this. He’s my

protector—he always has been.

My best friend. My Zorro.

“Please don’t be mad. He just wants you to have a—a normal life.”

“And you think
you
can give me that.”

“Ara, I’ll give you everything. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. I’ll be a husband, a father

to our children, a provider, a pr otector, but most of all, Ara, if you say you’ll marry me, I will love

you—more than anyone has ever been loved in th e history of mankind, and I w ill devote every

breath I take to being the best husband you could ever have.”

“But what about what you want, Mike? I don’t want you to be what I want. I want you to be

happy, too.” S tuck for words, I paused for a se cond. “Do you even want children?” We never

discussed that. Mike’s good with kids—he always adored Harry, but never spoke of wanting a family

before—even when I’d sit for hours and dream about being a mum, he always had his head stuck in a

book or his eyes on a screen while I chatted away.

Mike took a breath, lifting his shoulders as he did. “All I want is you, baby girl. I want you a

thousand times over and every day for the rest of my existence. As for kids...well, I never thought

about it before, but—” all went quiet while he looked out the window, “—if I could place a piece of

myself inside of you, and—” he l ifted my singlet top and traced little circles around my

navel, then smiled, “—and that woul d grow, and b ecome something so beaut iful as life—as a l ife

that’s a part of you and me, combined, I can’t imagine—” he lowered his head in emphasis of the

word, “—I can ’t imagine something more wonderful and magical. So—yes. Yes, I want to have

babies—with you. I want a hundred little dark-haired, blue-eyed babies running around, and you and

me, we’ll be together. We’ll have each other. Always.
That’s
what I want.”

But is it what
I
want? I love Mike, how could I not? He’s kind and smart and handsome and