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I stiffen at the reminder of my upcoming engagement. “That would be a miracle.”
“Well, you never know,” he says. “How about you make some arrangements using my flowers? I could use a professional opinion on my gardening skills. You can tell me if I’ve done a good job.” He winks.
“You planted those?” I ask, surprised.
“Yup.”
I giggle. “I’m sorry. The idea of you in messy clothes, knees deep in dirt, doesn’t sound right.”
“Don’t underestimate me. I’m like a Kinder Surprise,” he jokes, waggling his eyebrows.
I laugh, the tension easing from my shoulders. “Alright, but don’t blame me if I’m brutally honest. Gardening isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Dion grins, parking his car in the driveway and coming around to open my door. He extends his hand to help me out, and I take it, a sudden jolt of sensation catching me off guard. My skin tingles. I pull away, as if his touch just burnt me. I remind myself why I can’t let this happen. My engagement to another man looms in the back of my mind. Even though I have no attachment to my future fiancé, I have to respect our union and my father’s wishes.
Dion doesn’t flinch at my reaction.
He slips his hands in his pockets. “You ready?”
I give him a small smile as we head toward the house.
Once at the front door, Dion unlocks it and steps back, letting me in first. I find myself in a large and warm foyer.
I slip off my heels, leaving them on the front mat, and walk further into the house. The place is full of windows; the moon casting a gentle glow over the living room where a plush sofa and a couple of well-worn armchairs are arranged around a coffee table stacked with magazines and books. I let my hands graze the fabric as I continue my path.
So far, this place looks lived in and cozy. Somewhere I wouldn’t mind spending more time.
No, Aria. This ends tonight.
Dion silently follows a few feet behind, and I don’t even feel awkward about snooping around. But it’s impossible to ignore his presence. The air seems to heat at his proximity.
I pass a big fireplace, its mantle decorated with photos and knickknacks.
There’s a frame with a picture of a young boy and who I assume are his mama and baba. I pick it up, Dion stopping right at my back.
“My parents,” he says, his voice expressionless. “That was the last photo we took together.”
I trace their faces with my fingertips. “Your mama was beautiful,” I say softly, my voice tinged with sadness for him.
“They used to be my everything.”
I glance up at him, surprised to hear him open up like this about a clearly sensitive topic. His gaze lingers on the image, something heartbreaking passing over his face. I just want to hold that little boy in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be okay.
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Dion nods, not taking his eyes off the picture, his jaw tensing slightly. “My father was killed in a drive-by. And my mother was so heartbroken, she took her own life a few weeks later.”
“Oh my God, Dion. I’m so sorry.” My heart breaks in tiny pieces for him. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose one’s parents in such a tragic way. I might not always see eye to eye with my family, but I love them and would be broken if they left me.
“It’s been many years.” He shrugs, glancing over at me. “I’ve gotten used to the gap they left, and I’ve learned to navigate life without them.”
“You must miss them,” I add, solemnly.
He stares back at the photo for a few moments, not saying anything.
“I had just turned five,” he begins, a slight smile forming on his lips. “Back then, I was obsessed with carnivals. I thought they were the most magical places in the world. So, for my birthday, my parents decided to surprise me and took me to a fair right outside the city.”
His eyes drift off, as if he’s looking through the years, back to that day. “I had no idea where we were going. But I remember how excited they were in the front seat, whispering and smiling, glancing back at me with these big, expectant grins. It was like they were kids too, sharing this secret joy.”
