Bring Me Your Midnight(76)

“Honestly, it scares the hell out of me.”

It’s maybe the best thing he’s ever said to me, the most real thing, and for the first time, I see him as just a boy instead of as the governor’s son. I want so desperately to be seen for who I am, not solely the role I play, and yet I haven’t even tried to do the same for Landon.

“I’m so glad,” I say, wanting to laugh and cry in equal measure.

I wipe my eyes, and he catches my hand. “I believe in this life. I believe in the power of the mainland and the Witchery coming together.”

“Me too.”

Hearing those words helps me commit to this life in a way I haven’t been able to since we moved up the date of the wedding. I don’t fully understand the reasons that went into that decision, and those questions have created uncertainty in me. But it’s okay to be scared and worried and uneasy. I can believe in this path and still wish I could see farther down the road.

“Landon,” I say, my voice quiet, “I think I’d like you to kiss me now.”

A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. He gently places his hand under my chin and tips my face up, leaning down to meet me. My eyes close, and his lips brush mine, shy and hesitant and gentle.

At first I don’t move, terrified of not wanting him enough or wanting him too much. But his lips are soft and his hand cradles my face, and he is going to be my husband soon. Slowly, I sink into the kiss, move my mouth against his and let myself feel however I’m going to feel.

There aren’t dragonflies in my stomach. I don’t erupt in a blaze of fire that leaves me desperate for him, but maybe that kind of kiss doesn’t exist. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle it if it did.

But it’s nice, the way his mouth feels against mine. It’s tender. It’s the kind of kiss I can commit to.

He slowly pulls away, taking my hand. “We’ll get better at this,” he says, and my cheeks flame, wondering if it was bad, wondering if he didn’t enjoy it.

“I think it was pretty good for a first time,” I say, even though the spark I’ve always hoped for was absent.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, realizing how that sounded. “What I’m trying to communicate—poorly, I should add—is that I think we’re starting from a really good place.” He squeezes my hand when he says it, giving me a reassuring smile.

“I think so, too.”

It isn’t the first kiss I’ve always dreamed of, especially not with the addition of Landon’s comment, but I’m learning that dreams are just dreams. They aren’t real, don’t have any bearing on my life. And it isn’t fair for me to continually compare the Landon in front of me to the one I dreamt about growing up.

I know all that, and yet I can’t fully let go, can’t fully forget about the Landon in my head. That’s the problem with dreams: they are so easy to get lost in and so very difficult to give up.





thirty-four





Landon and his parents are gone, and Dad brings in a tray with tea for me and wine for him and Mom. The fire is going, and instrumental music plays softly in the background. The dinner could not have gone better, and I see it in the way my parents look at each other, in their easy posture as they lean together on the couch.

And it fills me with pride to have helped manifest their biggest hopes.

I’m so happy for them.

I am.

But it also feels a lot like sadness.

I don’t know when marrying Landon morphed in my mind from a certainty to a choice, from something I always knew I’d do to something I have to convince myself to do. Landon said he could tell that I’m trying, but I don’t want to have to try. I don’t want to force this life to fit within all the hopes and fears that make me me.

Even kissing Landon—it was nice, and I’m glad I did it. But I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss someone because I desperately wanted to, to kiss someone because I couldn’t possibly go a single moment longer without it.

“What a great night,” my mother says, leaning into my dad. “And what a wonderful idea of Landon’s to invite you to the mainland before the harvest celebration. That will be a very special day for both of you.”

“It will be nice to start learning my way around,” I say. “I’m sure it will be fun learning it with Landon.”

“You must be thrilled,” Mom says, looking at me. “This is what you’ve always wanted.”

“It’s what you’ve always wanted.” I’m shocked that the words come out of my mouth, grasping for them, wishing I could pull them back. They linger in the space between us, heavy and dark and ugly. I want to take them back, apologize and make it right.

But they’re true.

I’m heartbroken that they’re true.

A look passes between my parents, and I wish I knew what it means. For a moment, it feels like they’re in on something I know nothing about. But they don’t look angry or offended. Mom looks worried, but it’s Dad’s face that makes my heart ache. He looks sad. So sad.

“You’re right,” my mother finally says, setting down her drink. “This is what I’ve always wanted. It’s what all of us have always wanted—your father and I, and this entire island. Maybe you don’t get all the choices your peers do, and maybe the weight of duty feels heavy on your shoulders, and for that I’m sorry. But you will be changing the course of history, making a difference most people could never dream of making. You should be proud.”