Page 35 of Tiger's Voyage
“Alright.”
I began hesitantly, slowly warming to the topic. I told Ren all about my discussion with Kishan and left nothing out. It was nice talking to him this way again. I’d always been able to tell him anything, and he still listened as attentively as he used to. I even told him about things he’d missed out on while he was a prisoner, then waited and watched as he processed the information.
I ended by saying, “And as far as you go, I just want to say I’m sorry for yelling at you in the jungle. I know I’ve been a pain to be with lately, and I apologize. I was angry and hurt, and I blamed you.”
“Perhaps Ideservedthe blame.” Ren raised an eyebrow and then his expression changed to a wide grin. “So you’re here to kiss and make up?”
“Uh, try make up.”
“Okay, let me get this straight. Kishan promised not to kiss you until he’s sure we’re over.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever make any promises to me when we were dating? Like, for example, not kissing other men?”
“I never promised anything about kissing, specifically. But after we were together there was never anyone else Iwantedto kiss. If I’m being completely honest, there was never anyone before you I wanted to kiss either.”
“Right. Did I ever promise you anything?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re not the same person.”
“Get it out. I want to know exactly what I’ve done to hurt you, other than the obvious amnesia.”
“Okay.” I blew out a breath. “Do you remember my birthday party?”
“Yes.”
“You gave me socks.”
“Socks?”
“On Valentine’s Day you gave me your mother’s earrings. I told you that you could have given me socks. You said, and I quote, ‘Socks are hardly a romantic gift, Kells.’ On my birthday you said you didn’t care for peaches and cream ice cream, but in Tillamook you chose peaches and cream because you said it smelled like me. You also said you liked Nilima’s perfume better than my natural scent.”
“Is there more?”
“Yes. You told me you’d never dance with Nilima again and when you talk about her it makes me jealous. And, speaking of jealousy, you never get jealous anymore. You used toalwaysget jealous, and now you don’t care—not even about Kishan’s flirting. Kishan has been making a play for me since Shangri-la. Normally you would be extremely upset about that. All of this has been bothering me since we’ve been back.
“I told you once that I chose you—not Kishan. But now Phet says I’d be happy with him too and that I will have to make a choice soon. In some ways, that’s nice to know because if I can’t be with you and can’t make you happy, at least I could potentially makehimhappy, though I can’t seemebeing happy withoutyou.”
My voice cracked. “And as long as we’re confessing everything … Iloveyour poems. They’re more precious to me than anything else I own. And … I miss you. It’s hard and awkward and emotional to be around you and notbewith you. Oh, and another thing: That song—the one you can’t remember—is one you wrote for me. And I promised … I promised never to leave you again.”
I lowered my gaze and trailed off. When I finally dared to peek through my lashes, I found Ren’s blue eyes watching me intently.
After a moment of deep consideration, he said, “Well, that was quite the confession. I guess that means it’s time for me to share.” He paused briefly. “I onlyfeelwhen you’re around.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, most of the time I feel numb. I only come alive when you’re near me. I can’t play music, read, study, or write unless you’re somewhere nearby. You’re my muse,strimani. It seems I don’t have much of a life without you. And because we’re being open, I’ll say that I’m fairly certain I’m falling in love with you again. As for the jealousy, I would say that emotion is definitely making a comeback. I’m sorry for the socks. No one told me we were celebrating until the last minute, and Kishan tossed me the gift, which I now think he might have done on purpose.
“I do like your scent. Now that you mention it, peaches and cream is an apt description. Sorry about the ice cream, but I do like peanut butter–chocolate better. I promise not to dance with Nilima. I think you’re beautiful, and if you don’t believe me you can read my poem again. It was you I was describing. I think you’re interesting, sweet, clever, and compassionate. I even like your temper. I think it’s cute. And if it wouldn’t make me violently ill, I’d be kissing you right now.”
“You would?”
“Yes. I would. Does that about cover everything?”
“Yes,” I whispered quietly.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else I promised you? Is there anything else you’ve been angry about?”
