Page 81 of The Quiet
“I was a warrior. I was dangerous,” she urged.
“Absolutely. I’ve seen you fight,” he said simply.
“You’re looking at me like I’m,” she hesitated, “adorable.”
His expression broke, and he laughed out loud at her apparent distaste. He rubbed the stubble on his face, leaning against the table and looking out at the courtyard. He wore a loose blue shirt that now exposed the clean row of black arrows tattooed along his collarbone. “You seem a little embarrassed. I didn’t hear no to kids, though.”
There was something in his tone she couldn’t trace, and so she waited in silence. The smile faded from his expression as he looked out at the town. Birds could be heard chirping loudly in the distance. It was always so peaceful here.
She watched his expression intently as his smile dissolved. Now it felt like there was something else in his countenance he’d hidden before. Jackson had a clever way of asking questions, and she knew now that children hadn’t been the purpose of his inquiry.
“Are you happy?” he asked, frequently direct with his most important questions. “Happy to spend your life here? Happy to spend it with me? I know things have moved quickly. To be honest, I don’t have reservations, Ella, but I will respect yours.”
“Of course, I am,” she reasoned, leaning across the table and grabbing his hand. “Jackson, I’m not sure I’ve been happier in my entire life than I have in the last few months.”
He smiled softly, but there was a sadness she didn’t understand. “Ella,” he said, leaning toward her as he lowered his voice. “You say I keep you in the present, but you keep me here too. I’mconvinced, with you, I might live a life. I might actually be able to grow older, have a family, die of old age, and that just be the end of it. Is that really what you want?”
“Yes,” she said, determined, “I’m happy.”
“Happiness has never been what you looked for,” he whispered, dark eyes intent.
“I want this,” she urged.
“Right now?” he said, grasping her hand.
“Jackson—” she searched his eyes, trying to understand his doubts.
“Why the dress?” he asked, startling her.
He’d noticed her mind drifting after all.
Perfect.
She repeated the word she’d been meditating on earlier.
“You saw it on my face, didn’t you?” she asked, twirling the fringes of her yellow dress around her finger. It was curious that he noted the dress, when she hadn’t realized until this morning what it had meant for her to wear it.
She’d purchased it yesterday, compelled to buy it despite having avoided the color for months. Jackson had noted it, but said nothing more, seemingly surprised to see her wearing it today.
So that’s what all of this was about?
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she said, and he looked at her sympathetically.
“I,” she sighed, “My mind just drifted off a little just now. That’s it.”
Perfect.
The word repeated again in her mind, and then the fullness of the stifled thought followed.
Everything is perfect, Ella. Why are you ruining it?
Jackson smiled against the sunlight and then leaned forward and kissed her.
“More and more lately,” he whispered as he drew back, searching her eyes as if looking for the answer she hadn’t formed yet.
She’d been making him nervous this week, and she hardly knew why until she realized how much he’d noticed the direction of her thoughts.
“You’ve been such an anchor when the world felt like it was drifting,” Ella replied, her fingers interlaced with his. She carried so much in that statement, having only seen glimpses of Lambspeak since the battle at Death.
