The Enchanted Greenhouse(93)
Yarrow couldn’t seem to stop staring at her. “Why didn’t you stay with my sister and enjoy the dream flowers? Why seek me out? You didn’t know I’d have a sea turtle to show you.”
She countered with her own question. “Why did you show me the turtle and the stars and even the garlic? Why not continue your gardening work?” He could have easily kept pruning and weeding instead of bringing her on this tour, and she would have understood. She hadn’t gone to him with any expectations.
“I thought you’d like the sea turtle. You said once that you like them.”
Terlu took a breath. “I like you.”
His eyes widened, and she thought he looked a little panicked. She hadn’t meant to frighten him. Quickly, she pulled her tunic back on and secured the buttons.
Trying to sound as if everything was perfectly platonically normal, Terlu said, “I think it would help if I could construct a timeline of when the different greenhouses were built. I can match that against when Laiken recorded spells in his notebooks and narrow in on which sections most likely include the spells that made this ocean room, which made the star flowers, and so forth. It would be terrible if the world lost all of this wonder.”
“I missed it, didn’t I.”
Fully dressed and mostly dry, she paused at the top of the ladder. “Missed what?”
“The moment when I should have kissed you.”
Terlu felt a smile blossom from deep within her. “It’s not possible to miss that.” She walked across the platform—it took only two strides to reach him—and she rose up onto her tiptoes to press her lips on his.
He kissed her back, softly and sweetly, while the sea turtle splashed in the water nearby.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The kiss ended, gently, and Terlu stared into his eyes, their lips still so close that she was breathing his breath, as sweet as honey. She felt as if she were floating.
“Why?” Yarrow asked.
She stared at his lips and thought the question made zero sense. Because a kiss couldn’t last forever, even if she wanted it to? Because you eventually had to take a full breath? She repeated the word, “Why?”
“I am not someone that anyone would choose,” Yarrow said, as if it were objective fact.
Oh, by the sea. Did he think she just kissed anyone who wandered by? Terlu rolled her eyes so hard that they nearly hurt. “Stop it. I like you. It’s not any more complicated than that.”
“I know I’m the one who woke you, and I know you feel sorry that I’ve been alone—”
“It’s not pity. Or gratitude.” Stepping back from him, she poked his shoulder, hard. “Is that what you think?” Yes, that was what he thought. She could see it in his face. He was perfectly willing to walk away from … whatever this was, if she said she didn’t want him. “Maybe just accept that I wanted to kiss you.”
He took a deep breath. “Everyone I have ever cared about left.”
“And I got turned into a statue,” Terlu replied. Ugh, this was absurd. She started to climb down the ladder. “We both have issues,” she shot up at him. “It doesn’t mean we’re doomed to be lonely and unhappy forever. Unless that’s what you want.”
“Obviously not,” Yarrow said, starting down after her.
There was nothing obvious about it. He’d chosen a hermit’s life. “Your sister said you never wrote back to her.” Perhaps she should take that as a warning. Was that how he handled all his relationships? Just let them wither away? You could only have a relationship of any kind, be it family or friends or lovers, if both people were willing to reach toward each other. It wasn’t, as some said, hard work in the sense of being unpleasant or tedious or painful—that was a myth perpetuated by people with a vested interest in telling you to stay in a terrible relationship—but it did require effort. You had to try.
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“You could have said that. It’s better than silence.” She hadn’t meant to start an argument, especially after the swim with the sea turtle and the kiss. Halfway down, she twisted to see the aquarium behind her. The turtle drifted by, his flippers propelling him sideways through the water. She continued to climb down.
Above her, Yarrow said, “What about your family? What have you said to them?”
Oh? That was where he wanted to go with this? “That’s different,” Terlu said.
“Is it?”
Yes, it absolutely was. If she wrote to them, it could endanger them. Or her. Or both … though maybe since Alyssium had fallen, no one would care that she’d been de-statued? Okay, fine, perhaps he had a point. She shouldn’t be so afraid that they’d be disappointed in her. They loved her. “Maybe I will.”
“And maybe I’ll talk to my family. When I’m ready.”
“Good!” Terlu reached the bottom of the ladder, and she realized they’d just both agreed to do exactly what she wanted—to reach out to their loved ones, to choose to connect—and every bit of annoyance faded away. It wasn’t a compromise; it was a victory. “I’ll write to them and tell them I’m alive and well.” How they felt about that would be up to them.
He reached the bottom of the ladder too.
She studied his face as if it would tell her what he was thinking and feeling. She hadn’t meant to harp on his family, especially when she just wanted to talk about her and him. The swim with the sea turtle had been a lovely gift, and the kiss … lovelier still. She didn’t know how to step back into that moment and the way they’d both felt when she’d climbed out of the water. They both stood in silence, looking at each other awkwardly, with the slice of sea above them.