Page 43 of Twins for the Enemy

When the car coasts to a stop, I open my eyes. I must have fallen asleep because we’re in the middle of an enchanted realm that blends a natural utopia with an aurora borealis of fairy lights.

A large fountain with water jetting upward has lights that make the water visibly blue even in the dark. A man-made waterfall behind it has scattered white lights that glint on and off like fireflies. A large tree casts a shadow over the fountain and waterfall, with streams of lights dripping from its branches.

Further to the left, a small pond has glowing lights inside it, which fade in and out, making it look like waves are swaying back and forth inside it. A walkwaythat starts at the parking lot spirals around the tree and circles around the lake. Small lights in different shades of blue are inserted inside the walkway, giving it an appearance like a river.

It’s so mesmerizing that it takes a minute for my eyes to land on the sign—Astasio Botanical Garden. Not quite the fairy world, but it feels close enough.

“I’ve never been here,” I admit.

“It’s a bit tucked away. I don’t think the people who know about it want the tourists here,” he says.

“Are you one of those people?”

“It’s not my kind of thing. But I thought that you’d like it.”

“I do.”

He’s gazing at me for so long, I have to look back at him.

“We need to keep our relationship strictly platonic,” he says. “We can’t keep blurring thatline.”

I focus on the lights in the pond, watching the illusion of waves. “I know.”

“It’s my fault that we haven’t been, but we need to deal with this logically,” he says. “It will never work out. We’ll never get along, and it’ll be confusing for the twins.”

Maybe the lights are too much. Maybe when nighttime comes, we should accept it and not try to create light where there isn’t any.

“I agree,” I say.

“Good.” He grips the steering wheel, glancing over at me. “Does your foot hurt? That looks uncomfortable.”

I look down at my foot. I must have turned it in my sleep. It’s now angled inward like I’m pigeon-toed.

“It’s fine,” I say. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s not a short ride back home,” he says. “You don’t want to be uncomfortable the whole time.”

He reaches across my lap, his hand cradling under my calf as he moves my foot back to where he’d put it before.

The touch is tinder for the fire in my veins.

As he sits back up, I grab his arm. He looks up at me.

My hands cradle his face. I press my mouth against his, urgent and riddled with anxiety.

It’s not Chicago that I was homesick for.

He’s the contrast between familiar and exhilarating.

He’s the darkness and vivid colors I missed.

Chapter fourteen

~KIERAN~

My mind moves through building and tearing down empires so fast, the real world feels too slow. It’s boring, predictable—nothing holds my attention when I already see how everything starts and ends.

But with Farah, everything is worth attention.

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