Chapter 15: He’s back
The heavy oak door of the library swung shut behind them, sealing away the scent of old books and the weight of what had just happened. The city’s noise rushed back in a wave of honking cars and distant sirens, a jarring transition from the sacred quiet. Kai’s hand was still wrapped around Emma’s, their fingers interlaced—a connection that felt both terrifyingly new and as natural as breathing.
She didn’t let go. Not yet. The courage that had flooded her in the dim carrel was ebbing, leaving behind a shaky, electrified residue. Every point of contact with Emma’s skin sent a tiny, thrilling current up her arm.
“So,” Emma said, her voice a little unsteady. She swung their joined hands lightly between them. “Where to?”
Before Kai could answer, a familiar voice cut through the city hum. “Kai! There you are.”
Allan was striding toward them from the curb, a grin spreading across his handsome face. He looked effortlessly put together in a crisp linen shirt, the afternoon sun glinting off his watch. Kai’s hand instinctively slipped from Emma’s, the separation feeling like a physical tear. She felt, rather than saw, Emma go rigid beside her.
“Allan! What are you doing here?” Kai asked, her voice rising slightly in pitch. She forced a smile, her mind racing. How much had he seen?
“Finished my calls sooner than expected. Thought I’d surprise you.” He reached them and, without hesitation, leaned in and planted a firm, proprietary kiss on Kai’s lips. It was dry, brief, and entirely expected in the narrative of their relationship. But to Kai, after the seismic, soul-wrenching kiss she’d just shared with Emma, it felt like being kissed by a stranger. Her lips were still tingling from Emma’s, and Allan’s kiss landed like a dull imprint.
She stood frozen for a second before responding with a token pressure. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emma look away, her jaw tight, studying the traffic with intense interest.
“Surprise,” Kai managed weakly when he pulled back.
“I see you two managed to find the place,” Allan said, his tone genial, his gaze flicking to Emma with a friendly nod. “Hope it was worth skipping the sunshine for.”
“It was… enlightening,” Emma said, her voice carefully neutral. She offered Allan a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Good, good.” Allan clapped his hands together, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Well, I’m not letting you two hide away for the rest of the day. I was driving past and saw the carnival setting up by the riverfront. What do you say? A bit of fun? My treat.”
Kai’s first impulse was to refuse, to find some excuse to be alone with Emma, to deal with the cataclysm that had just rewritten her world. But the expectation in Allan’s eyes was a powerful force. It was the path of least resistance, the easy slide back into the life she was supposed to want.
“A carnival?” she said, grasping at the normality of it. “I haven’t been to one in years.”
“Exactly! It’ll be a laugh. Emma, you’re in, right?” Allan turned his charming smile on her, a clear attempt at inclusion that felt more like a cage.
Emma hesitated, her eyes meeting Kai’s for a fractured second. Kai saw the question there, the hurt, the resignation. Then Emma shrugged, a fluid, effortful roll of her shoulders. “Why not? Someone has to keep you two from winning all the giant teddy bears.”
The car ride was a study in artificial ease. Allan drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on Kai’s knee—a gesture that once felt comforting now made her skin prickle. She stared straight ahead, hyper-aware of Emma in the backseat, a silent, tense presence.
Allan chatted about the carnival food he missed from childhood, his father’s latest business acquisition, the unseasonably warm weather. Kai offered monosyllabic replies. Emma was quiet, her silence a loud, accusing thing in the confined space.
Kai glanced in the rearview mirror. Emma was looking out the window, her profile sharp against the passing city. She wasn’t just quiet; she was retreating, building the walls Kai had spent the last hour tearing down. The victory in the library was turning to ash.
The carnival was a sensory assault that kicked in the moment they stepped out of the car. The air was thick with the sweet, greasy smell of funnel cakes and popcorn, underscored by the metallic grind of ride machinery and the tinny blast of calliope music. Children shrieked with a mixture of terror and delight on a whirling ride, their voices cutting through the crowd’s murmur.
“Alright, ladies,” Allan said, rubbing his hands together. “Game plan. Food first, then we conquer the Ferris wheel.”
They moved through the throng of people. Allan kept a light hand on the small of Kai’s back, guiding her. Each touch felt like a brand. Emma walked slightly apart, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans, her gaze sweeping over the crowds as if she were a anthropologist studying a foreign tribe.
They stopped at a stall selling spiral potatoes on a stick. Allan insisted on paying, pulling out a crisp bill from his wallet. As he joked with the vendor, Kai found herself standing next to Emma.
“Are you okay?” Kai whispered, the words barely audible over the carnival din.
Emma turned to her, her expression unreadable. “I’m fine, Kai.” Her voice was flat. “It’s a carnival. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Emma…”
But Allan was back, triumphantly holding three potato spirals. “Fuel for the challenges ahead!”
They ate as they walked. The food was too salty, too greasy, but Kai ate it anyway, the act giving her something to do. Allan pointed out a shooting gallery. “Look at that! Bet I can still knock down all the ducks.”
He paid for a turn, shouldering the plastic rifle with a confident grin. He missed the first shot, then found his rhythm, hitting target after target with practiced ease. The stall attendant handed him a small, poorly stuffed panda bear.
“For you,” he said, presenting it to Kai with a flourish.
It was a sweet gesture. The kind of thing she should cherish. She took the bear, its synthetic fur rough under her fingers. “Thanks, Allan.”
She glanced at Emma, who was watching the exchange with a faint, cynical smile. “Quite the sharpshooter,” Emma said, her tone light but edged with something else.
“Your turn, Emma!” Allan said, oblivious. “Show us what you’ve got.”
Emma hesitated, then stepped up to the counter. She paid for her own turn, rejecting Allan’s offer. She picked up the rifle, her stance entirely different from Allan’s showy pose. She was still, focused. She fired. The first duck went down. Then the second. Each shot was precise, economical. She cleared the entire row without a single miss.
The attendant whistled, impressed, and handed her a massive, rainbow-colored unicorn.
Emma turned and without a word, offered the unicorn to Kai.
The gesture was simple, but loaded. It wasn’t a showy performance for approval; it was a quiet, undeniable statement. I see you. I know you. Here.
Kai’s breath caught. She stood holding the pathetic panda in one hand, staring at the glorious, absurd unicorn in the other. The two stuffed animals felt like representations of the two futures pulling at her.
Allan laughed, a loud, booming sound. “Well, now you’ve got a zoo! Come on, let’s get on the Ferris wheel before the line gets long.”
The line for the Ferris wheel was slow-moving, a snake of couples and families weaving back on itself. The sun was beginning to dip below the city skyline, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The lights of the carnival blinked on, one string at a time, weaving a net of cheap magic over the scene.
Allan was on his phone, responding to a message from his father. He was half-turned away, his attention diverted.
Kai and Emma stood close together in the queue, the giant unicorn a bright barrier between them. The silence was different now, charged with the unspoken offering of the toy.
“I can’t do this,” Kai murmured, her voice low so only Emma could hear.
“Do what?” Emma asked, not looking at her.
“This… pretend. With him. After… after what happened.”
Emma finally turned her head. Her eyes were fierce in the fading light. “Then don’t.”
It was that simple. And that impossible.
The line moved forward. It was their turn. The ride operator swung open the door of a gondola. Allan, finishing his call, gestured for them to get in. “Ladies first.”
The gondola was small, a padded bench meant for two, but the operator waved all three of them in. “It’s fine, squeeze in,” he said boredly.
They crammed into the tiny space. Kai found herself pressed between Allan and the cold plexiglass window. Emma was on the other side of Allan, as far away as she could get. The door clicked shut, locking them in. The ride jerked into motion, lifting them with a lurch into the air.
The world fell away slowly. The cacophony of the carnival softened to a distant murmur. The city lights began to wink on, spreading out below them like a carpet of jewels. It should have been romantic. It was suffocating.
Allan put his arm around Kai, pulling her close. “Pretty view, huh?”
Kai nodded, her throat tight. She could feel the heat of Emma’s body just inches away, a silent, magnetic presence. She stared out at the horizon, but all she could see was the reflection of Emma’s face in the window, a pale, serious moon against the darkening sky.
They reached the apex of the wheel. The gondola stopped, swaying gently, suspended high above everything. It was a moment of perfect, breathless stillness.
Allan turned his face toward hers, his intention clear. He was going to kiss her. Here, at the top of the world, with Emma watching.
Kai’s heart hammered against her ribs. She was trapped. The whole expected story of her life was in this gondola with her, demanding its happy ending.
And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Emma’s hand, resting on the seat between them. Her fingers were curled into a fist, so tight the knuckles were white.
Without thinking, driven by an impulse deeper than fear or duty, Kai shifted slightly. As Allan leaned in, she turned her head away, pretending to point at something on the ground. “Look, you can see our hotel from here.”
Allan’s kiss landed on her cheek. He pulled back, a flicker of confusion crossing his face before he covered it with a smile. “Yeah, so you can.”
The gondola began its descent. The moment had passed. But the rebellion, small and silent as it was, sang in Kai’s veins. She kept her eyes fixed on the reflection in the glass, on Emma’s face, and saw the white-knuckled fist slowly, slowly unclench.