Page 72 of Twins for the Enemy

I reach for one, my foot narrowly missing the beds of lilac flowers that encircle the tree. The charm is an angelfish, but a ring hangs from it as well—a silver band with a diamond encircled by smaller diamonds. Another chain hangs behind it. I run my fingers over it, pulling it closer. The charm is a hot air balloon. The ring is adorned with diamonds around a gold band with a square diamond in the center.

“The angelfish is representing our time scuba diving in the Maldives,” Kieran says. “The hot air balloon isfor our time in Château-d'Oex. There’s a charm for the Matterhorn on one of these as well.”

“What are the rings for?” I ask, turning around.

Kieran is on one knee. Even with his elbow resting on his leg, his hands are trembling.

“Not a gala for you?” I squeak out.

“No,” he says. “They did want to thank me, and I asked them for the building for the night. They thought it was a fair exchange.”

He takes my hands. It’s not just him trembling.

“Farah,” he says. “Even when I tried with every fiber of my being to hate you, I knew I’d ruin myself and everyone in this city just to put that smile on your face—the one where it reaches your cheeks and everyone in the room can see that you’re made of something more precious than the rest of us. For a long time, I felt it would be selfish to try to tie down someone like that, but I don’t want to tie you down. I’m not asking this question to take ownership of you or because I want you as my wife—because, God, Ido—but because pretending that I don’t want to is the biggest lie. I want you, and no matter what happens, I’ll always want you. Every charm, every ring on that tree is a piece of us—moments I never want to forget. But now, I want all of it. The fights. The fire. The forever. Will you marry me, Farah?”

The emotions crash down on me, threatening me with their immensity. Colossal, out-of-control emotions have always been a threat to me—they lead to abuse, to addiction, to saying cruel things to loved ones, to following loved ones down the rabbit hole. Numbing down has always been the safer, more sane option.

But with Kieran, I know I’m safe, and the only threat is not throwing myself into the wave. My cheeks feel wet. I don’t remember any tears falling.

“I’ll marry you,” I say. “Every day. Every lifetime.”

He lurches up to his feet, grabbing onto me like he might fall without my help, but as he embraces me, his strength is so forceful that I feel it in my bones. He kisses me deeply, his mouth grinding against mineuntil it softens so much that I kiss him back to feed into that aggression.

The world seems to click into place. It’s like it’s always been stilted, and this is the first time my feet have been on steady, solid ground.

When he sets me down, he’s beaming. I’ve never seen him so happy.

“Choose a ring,” he says, gesturing to the necklace chains. “If you don’t find one you love, we’ll get one made.”

I look over my shoulder. Even with all of the trips, the galas, and the staggering gifts, it’s all excess that fades in comparison to our times together when it’s just the two of us.

When I kiss him, it’s meant as a brief moment of gratitude, but when he starts to kiss me back, any intentions slip to the back of my mind like his hand slipping over my throat.

His hands move to the small buttons of my dress, unhooking them with surprising ease for how big theyare. As soon as it’s unbuttoned, the dress pools at my feet, creating a halo of flowers around me.

He offers me his hand. As I take it, stepping away from the dress, his rough callouses contrast against my smoother skin. While his hands will always bring me to life, they also remind me of how they reconstructed our house and cradled our children. It’s almost absurd for him to ask me to marry him because his hands are always building our future.

As he kisses me, he pulls me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist. My hands lock behind his neck. He shifts his grip to my ass. I smile against his kiss, our foreheads touching against each other.

I look down. “You’re standing in the lilacs.”

“They were meant to be jasmine,” he says. “It reminded me of you. They were worried it’d choke the tree, so they changed it to lilacs. I don’t think they expect to keep them around. It’s just for us.”

“In that case, put me down, so we cancrush the rest of them.”

He lowers me down slowly, my hair swinging under me before it falls like a puddle around my head. The lilacs and soil aren’t as soft as our sheets, but it’s more lush than I expect.

One of the recessed lights is close to my head. As Kieran lies over me, it casts a light on half of his face. It makes me want to make up excuses to touch every inch of him, to see where the light reaches and where I can bring it out of him.

The buttons of his shirt slip out so easily that I’m able to unbutton it with one hand as he plants a row of kisses from my wrist to right above my elbow.

The strapless bra comes off even faster. His hands run over my breasts, kissing the curve of them as they rise and fall with my breath. He gazes at my body like it’s the first time he’s seen it—like I’m something sacred.

His erection rubs against my hip while he kicks off his shoes. I keep my hand at the back of his neck, despite the urgent throb between my thighs.

His chest muscles flex as he reaches down to pull off his pants. It still catches my breath every time I see him. He’s more broad than those pretty boys on TV, but it’s the muscle that ripples across his abs and smooths over his chest. It’s a man that has the power to do what he wants.

He slides down and kisses my inner thighs, my kneecaps, and the small scar on my calf. He pulls off my heels and kisses the tops of my feet.

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