Page 22 of The Oath Operation

The room was quiet, the only sounds the faint rustling of leaves outside and their labored breathing. The air smelled faintly of the brownies they had baked earlier, a comforting scent that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in his mind. Had it only been a few hours ago that she'd closed the door in Amari's face? They'd sat on the couch with her plans for the bakery spread on the coffee table. She'd gone on and on about her plans until her eyes drooped. Fish had risen to go, but she'd stayed him with a hand on his forearm.

Now she reached up to touch her neck, her fingers brushing over the marks he'd left there. She winced slightly, but her eyes remained gentle and understanding. The red imprint of his hand stood out against her pale skin, each finger outlined in an angry, crimson hue. The sight of it made his stomach churn, a visceral reminder of the nightmare he had just woken from.

The room felt like it was closing in on him, the walls pressing down as guilt and shame washed over him in waves. He had done this. He had hurt Jules, the person he cared about more than anything. The thought was unbearable.

"I should go." Fish rose to leave, but once more Jules stayed him with her hand on his forearm.

"I had nightmares after my mother died. I dreamed my father would die soon. And then, he did."

It was the weight of her words that made Fish sit back down. His hands reached for her without his permission. His arms circled around her, pulling her close without hesitation. He felt her tremble slightly, her small frame leaning into his for support. The scent of vanilla and cocoa from their earlier baking filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of her shampoo, creating a comforting cocoon around them.

"I'd wake up screaming and crying, my arms and limbs flailing like I was running and fighting at the same time. Jacqui caught it in the eye once or twice."

Jules wrinkled her nose as if remembering her distasteful behavior from the past. A shadow of guilt flickered across her face, her eyes dropping to the floor as if she could still see her sister’s startled expression in the dark of those nights.

"Jacqui is a lucid dreamer. She always told me to simply change my dreams, as if it were that easy. But a lot of things came easy to my big sister." Jules smiled faintly at the memory. "Still, it was good advice. I started thinking positive thoughts before I went to bed at night. I’d think about all the good times I had with my parents and how much they loved me. Pretty soon, the nightmares went away."

Fish listened intently, his heart aching for the pain she had endured. The idea of her struggling with nightmares, feeling that same helplessness, struck a chord deep within him. He tightened his hold, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a quiet reassurance against her cheek. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. The silence between them was enough, filled with the unspoken understanding of two souls who had both battled their demons, and somehow, were still standing.

"Maybe you could try it too," she suggested gently. "Think about something good, something that makes you happy before you go to sleep."

Fish nodded slowly, the idea resonating with him. He could try that. He could think of her.

"I'm sorry about last night and Amari. I'd like to say that he's not usually like that. But that wouldn't be the truth. He's used to getting his own way."

"I'm not interested in his way. I'm only interested in your way."

"After you clear my path." Jules pulled away from him, seeming to realize they weren't being entirely professional in this moment.

"What do you need me to move out of your way today?"

"Well, this morning I need to go and see an immovable object that is beyond your power: my grandmother."

ChapterSixteen

Jules walked up the familiar path to her grandmother's house. The neighborhood was a picture of suburban tranquility, with neatly trimmed lawns and rows of modest, well-kept homes. The houses, painted in soft pastels and warm earth tones, sat comfortably close together, their porches adorned with potted plants and wind chimes that tinkled in the gentle breeze. Trees lined the streets, their branches heavy with leaves that provided a canopy of shade in the summer and a splash of color in the fall.

She remembered coming here after school, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders as she raced up the sidewalk, eager to find her grandfather in the front yard or her grandmother in the garden, snipping leaves for tea. The laughter of children playing nearby, the distant bark of a dog, and the faint rustle of newspaper pages from neighbors sitting on their porches—it was all so familiar, so comforting.

Taking the last step up the front porch, Jules heard the faint clinking of teacups and soft laughter coming from inside. Taking a deep breath, she opened the screen door and stepped into the cozy living room.

"Jules, dear, come in," Nãinai called, her warm smile lighting up her face. Her cousin Birdy was already there, seated at the table with a delicate china teacup in hand.

"Hi, Nãinai, Birdy," Jules greeted, trying to muster a smile despite the anxiety gnawing at her.

"I know what you’re here for, Jules. Let me go get your inheritance check." She gave Jules a knowing look before heading to the back room.

Well, that was easier than she'd thought. Jules had expected a lengthy lecture. Even though her grandmother had company, she thought she'd get at least a stern talking to. But not a peep.

"So what did you and your new hubby get up to on your wedding night?" Birdy's sharp eyes zeroed in on the faint red handprint on Jules’ neck. She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jules's hand reached for her neck. Her fingertips were met with heat from her flush of embarrassment. "It’s not what you think. This happened in the morning after Fish woke up."

Birdy waggled her brows suggestively, her grin widening. "Morning after, huh? Sounds like a good time."

Jules huffed out an impatient breath. Birdy was usually the more practical of the Chou women. But Jules suspected that attitude was what loosened her tongue.

"It's not like that between us. Marriage of convenience, remember? I'm not in love with Fish."

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