The Knight Of The Rose (30 page)

home next week, but we haven’ t told Ara’s dad yet .” My smile dropped when Mike disappear ed

down the hall again—leaving me alone with my thoughts.

What will my dad say? What will Vicki say? I know what my mum would’ve said. She’d be

happy. Even though I’m young. She would’ve been able to see that I love him; she would’ve taken

me shopping for a dress, and....I let that thought slip away with the agony it brought.

What would David say? After all, he wanted this—he gave me away. He must’ ve known,

when he told Mike to have me, that this would happen.

I wonder where he is now? If he’s far away, if he’s hurting?

The pyramids along the Nile came to mind with an image of David flying over them in a

silver plane. Whenever I hear that song—You Belong to Me—I’ll always think of David.

But the next thought that came was a warm one, a happy one, and I smiled.

I think
I’ll
be okay. Mike is enough to keep my heart beating every day. I will love him, and

be happy with him.

But David won’t. He’ll never find love again. He’ll never be okay again.

If things were different—normal, it would’ve been David that placed a ring on my finger.

I looked down at my left hand and traced my fingertip over the ruby. It was such a pretty

ring, and I couldn’t help but to smile at the odd significance of the single red rose.

Mike twisted his fingers throu gh mine and walked with that permanent grin etched onto his

lips as we strolled through the shopping mall. When we passed a tall shop window, with the evening

sun behind us, I caught our reflection in the glass; we looked so right together, like we were actually

one puzzle—split in two. Even though my head only j ust came up to his chin and my hands looked

like a child’s inside of his, we still looked perfect.

He ran his thumb over my ruby ring for the hundr edth time, and I wrapped my ot her hand

over his forearm to get clos er. The smile I wore, though, was forced. Although I was happy about

the engagement, I couldn’t help but to f eel like, somehow, I’d lost some thing I could never get

back.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, pretty girl?” Mike asked, squeezing my hand.

“Um,” I stalled, “I was just thinking...that...your tux is going to look really great next to my

dress.”

“Yeah. Good call bringing a colour swatch to match up the tie.” He nodded to himself. “I

just can’t wait to see you all dressed up—lookin’ like a princess.”

“Well—” I started, then Mike switched sides with me quickly, forcing me closer to the wall

as a group of boys dressed in thick jackets and pants way too big for their bodies fenced us in on the

sidewalk.

“Hey, man, you got a light?” one of them asked in a creepy tone, holding out a cigarette.

“No. Sorry. Don’t smoke.” Mike nodded politely, standing tall, completely unfazed by their

proximity.

The tallest boy, with a half-grown moustache, all but undressed me with his eyes. “Nice girl

you got there.” He nodded. “Looks a little scared, though.”

“Yeah,” another boy said, slapping his friend on the arm. “Maybe
I
can comfort her.”

The rest of the boys laughed.

Mike smiled at me, gripping my hand tighter. I lowered my head. “Well,” he started, “she’s

seventeen, she has a right to be. There are six of you, standing impolitely close to the two of us. You

should have more respect, mate.”

“Mike?” I squeezed his arm. “Shut up.”

“Nah, it’s cool.” The boy raised his palms . “He’s just defending his lady—I’d do the same.

No hard feelin’s, man?” he asked and extended his hand.

Mike, without hesitation, placed his strong, firm grip in the boy’s hand and shook once. The

boy looked up suddenly, his eyes becoming wide.

“Sure thing, mate,” Mike said. “No hard fee lings.” Then, he released his grip, and we

walked away—leaving the boys behind.

“Did you hurt him?” I asked, leaning closer.

“A little.” He shrugged. “I just gave him a clear warning that I wasn’t gonna take any crap.”

“Well, it worked,” I noted, risking one last glance over my shoulder—making sure they

didn’t follow.

“You got a little worried there, huh?” he said in a soothing tone.

“Yes. What’d you expect?”

“You never have to feel unsafe with me, Ara. I can put up a pretty good figh t. Granted, I’d

rather avoid that if I’m with you—but, I’m trained for this stuff, and I’m
really
strong.” He grinned,

raising his eyebrows.

“I know.” I nodded solemnly, not really feeling any better.

Mike stopped walking and grabbed my hips, holding me a few inches out from his. I cast my

eyes to the ground as he leaned in and gent ly, with a touch as soft as a whisper, kissed my cheek—

lingering there for a second. “You know I’ll always protect you, right?”

I nodded, turning my head j ust a little so my lips brushed softly across his chi n. I breathed

him in deeply, closing my eyes, while hi s fingertips inched just under the rim of my top above my

jeans. It felt surreal, the way he touched me so automatically—like we’d been together forever. My

heart still jumped every time, and a part of me wondered how long it would be before it felt

normal to have him touch me, before it became second nature—for me.

I stood back from him. “Well, I may
need
protection soon. We still have to tell my dad.” My

ruby ring sparkled in the sun as I waved my fingers.

“It’ll be fine. If he throws things at us, or gets out his shotgun, we’ll just go back home to

Perth.” Mike took both of my arms in his hands— lowering his chin just a little to meet my eyes.

“Look—” he started. It felt strange to see him look at me that way; the same old Mike, with the hint

of maturity that collected in his eyes when he had to be serious, but unlike before, there was also—

love—a different kind of love. “If it makes you feel any better, we can wait until after the ball to tell

your olds. It’ll give you some time to get used to the idea.”

“I think that’d be best. It’s been a difficult couple of months for everyone, and I don’t know

how he’ll cope with this. Vicki will
freak
out.”

“What about your friends? And David?” Mike stood taller when he said
David
.

“Mike. I can’t talk about him. Not ever. I never, ever want to hear his name again, okay?”

Mike’s eyes widened under his furr owed brow, and his mouth ope ned a little. “Sure.” He

nodded. “No worries, kid. But,
should
I be worried? I mean—
did
he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No, Mike. It’s just that—I just don’t wanna talk about it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

That wasn’t enough of a reason for Mike. Bu t it’d have to do—for now. Everything to do

with David can stay in the past. Mike will keep trying until I tell him about it one day, and who

knows, maybe I will tell him. But not today.

Mike smiled to himself and started walking ag ain with his hands behind his back. “Okay. I

just can’t keep it in any longer, Ara. I have to tell you.”

“What? Tell me what?” I twisted my ring around on my finger.

“Don’t get mad, okay?” he said , and without wai ting for my response, added, “I already

asked your dad for his blessing. He knows about the ring—knows about everything—except that I

asked you today.”

“Really? Oh, that’s such a relief,” I breathed the words out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it was funnier to watch you stew.”

I slapped his chest with the back of my hand. “Jerk. Do you have any id ea what I’ve been

going through these past few hours?”

“I’m sorry. At least I didn’t leave it a few days.”

I rolled my eyes. As if that makes it any better. “Does he know you want to move me back

home?” Mike shook his head. “I left that part out. Told him I might get a job over here.”

“But that’s not what you plan to do, is it?”

“Ara, baby. I want to be wher ever you are. I’ve done t his living without you thing, and it

sucked. No more. I’ll be wherever you want to be. Just say the words, and we’ll do it.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Come on.” Mike wrapped his arm around my waist and started walking again. “We’ve left

the shopping in the car a little too long, now.”

“I hope the chocolate hasn’t melted.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine.” He stuff ed his other hand in his pocket, and I snuggled against him as

we walked. “So, shall we go break the good news to Greg and Vicki—I know she’s been busting for

me to ask you since I first told your dad about the ring.”

“When did you tell them?”

“About a month ago.” Mike shrugged.

I groaned silently. That explains so much about their behaviour toward Mike. “Did you

show it to Vicki—the ring?”

Mike’s smile pressed his lips into a thin line. “She cried.”

“Sounds typical of Vicki.” I laughed.

A pale-blue light filtered between a crack in my curtains, reflecting dancing shadows of

raindrops across my carpet, while David paraded my mind.

The celebration di nner Vicki made for Mike an d I tonight kept me distracted until I was

tired, but I felt it even more, how hard it was going to get to find t hings every day that made the

time pass.

“I dream about you, you know?” I whispered, imagining David sitting beside me on the bed.

“When I close my eyes, I see your face. Will it ever stop hurting?”

The image shook his head and reached out to touch me. But, like a cloud of steam brushed

away by a hand, he vani shed. Only a streak of yellow light remained in his pl ace, filtering in from

the hallway. I looked up and smiled at Mike, who leaned against the doorframe with two steaming

mugs in his hands, wearing a cheeky grin. “You awake?” he whispered.

The clock beside me said midnight. “I am now,” I lied.

“Sorry, baby. I’ll leave you to sleep.”

“No. Wait. I’m awake. Please, come in?” My feather quilt ruffled as I sat up.

Mike closed the door with his foot and walked through the darkness to my bedside. The cups

clinked together on the side-table, and when my eyes adjusted to the di m light again, I noticed a

look of concern masking Mike’s face. “You were quiet, tonight—at dinner,” he said. “Is something

bothering you?”

“What makes you think there’s something bothering me? Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Ara—come on. Don’t pl ay games with me. I’m the one person in the world you can say

anything to—without cons equence.” He placed the warm mug in my hand, securing my fi ngers

around it before letting go. “Don’t try to lie to me.”

I sighed and looked down at the creamy l ayer of warmed milk, forming a white coating of

froth in the mug. “I was in love with him, Mike.”

“David?” He nodded after a deep breath. “I know. And I know you probably always will be.

I do understand that, Ara.”

“But how can you want to be with me—knowing I’ll always have another man in my heart?”

He paused, and thought changed his expression. “Ara, I love you—everything about you. I f

David’s always gonna be part of you too, I can live with that. Okay?”

My eyes filled with liquid; I was so glad it was dark enough that he wouldn’t see. “You’re

too great, Mike.” It hurt inside when he’d says things like that, but somehow, Mike knowing about

my reluctance to let go of David made it easier to carry the burden.

He unfolded my ring hand from the cup and made little circles over the stone with his

thumb. “You don’t know how happy I am to see this on you. So many times I dug it out, practiced

my speech, then put it away again. It’s where it belongs now.”

“How long have you had it?“

“I, uh—I
designed
it when I was fifteen—” He scratched the back of his neck. “Ara, I’ve

been in love with you for forever. I was just too stupid to do anything about it. So, finally, about two

years ago, I took the design to a jeweller and had it made.”

Two years? God, he
is
stupid. “It’s the most immaculate ring I’ve ever seen, Mike. I can’t

believe you designed this—for me.”

“You’re my beautiful rose, Ara—a sweet, soft flower.” He laughed then—at himself, I think.

“Look at me, Mike the poet.” He si pped his drink and shook his head. “I’m sorr y. It’s just—I feel

like I can speak from my heart when I’m with you.”

“Well, I like it. I’ve always been a sucker for a romantic.” I placed my cup on the side table,

next to Mike’s.

Mike smiled. “Squidge over.” He waved his hand to one side, ushering an imaginary me out

of the way. I moved to the cold side of the bed and let him slip beneath my covers.

Against my cheek, his chest felt so different to David’s; there was the heartbeat, for starters,

and the warmth was ten times greater—not to mention, Mike was a litt le bigger, too—broader and

maybe even more muscled. And I liked that he wasn’t careful—wasn’t afraid of his own strength—

how he’d let his arms fall heavily around me as he r elaxed. It felt comfortable. We

matched—fit together perfectly. My human match.

“Are you excited about the ball?” he asked.

“Mm-hm.” I nodded, drifting into a daydream with the soft rhyt hm of Mike’s heartbeat. As

he stroked my hair, the urge to sleep overwhelmed me. I watched the pictures dance around in my

mind, and when I saw the odd, ir rational images of my dr eams, I turned my he ad to se e Mike

smiling at the movies in my thoughts. But he didn’t. He couldn’t see them.

It shocked me how accustomed I became to David’s mind reading—almost came to rely on