“Darn you, Abri Aberdeen, and your thoughtfulness,” I whispered to the steamer.

When I was done, I unplugged the steamer and returned it to its rightful place in the closet. I slipped on my dress and shoes, and spritzed myself with one of Abri’s assorted choices of flowery perfumes. I brought my wrist to my nose and inhaled. Apple, peach and tuberose filled my senses. It smelled beautiful and my lips quirked. I spritzed a little more behind my ears. I owed her big already, what was one more point?

I stood at the full-length mirror a little shocked at my own appearance. I hadn’t taken this much time getting myself ready in months and it was, needless to say, slightly disconcerting. I wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw in the mirror. My reflection looked a little too much like my old self and that made me uneasy.

I looked closer.

There are differences. My skin was tanner, my muscles even more toned, but the biggest difference was in my eyes. Before when I saw myself, they revealed nothing but hollow. They were empty. But now, now, they were full of life, full of understanding. Suddenly, I didn’t mind my own scrutiny. Suddenly, I saw a completely different person standing before me. Suddenly, I reflected love, hope and patience.

A knock on the door once again startled me. I grabbed my tiny pocketbook, checked my lip gloss one last time and swung it open to a breathtaking Ian.

“Jesus, Sophie Price,” he told me at once, raking his eyes from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and back again.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. “I had no idea,” he told me, edging closer.

The toe of his shoes almost met mine and I wanted, no, needed him to swallow me whole. He was incredibly delectable, everything about him. I could feel his breath fan across my face as he examined me, could smell the spicy, clean scent of his soap, could practically count the hairs on his head. I searched his eyes and waited for it, waited for the declaration, but it never came. Say it, I silently begged.

I didn’t have time to be disappointed though because his hands found my bare shoulders instantly. They bit into my skin and pushed me a little away from him so he could soak up another look.

“Sophie Price, you are devastatingly beautiful.”

“Thank you. So are you,” I told him honestly.

He hadn’t heard me though. “I-I’m just-I knew you were beautiful, knew it so very well, but it’s like I just woke up to the idea. There’s something about you now, Soph. You exude something and I can’t quite place my finger on it. You practically glow with it. You devastate me,” he said, clutching at his heart.

I inched closer to him and rested my hand over his. “Thank you,” I told him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling at me.

“No, you don’t understand, I’m not thanking you for the compliment, Ian. I’m thanking you for giving me the beauty you see.”

“I can’t take credit for that, Soph.”

I smiled at him and we stood quietly, our hands on one another as if we were both awakening to whatever it was that was surrounding us both then. It was written all over us. There was something practically tangible there, like a ray of sun, warming us through to our souls. You could see it, you could feel it, but you couldn’t quite capture it in your hands. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there though. Oh, it was there and it weighed a thousand delicious pounds.

I let that pressure inundate me, let it tether me to him.

Understanding. I was in love with Ian Aberdeen. So deeply, so incredibly. And it was true and it was sublime and it was mine.

Nothing could take that away from me and that was absolutely freeing to me. I owned that love. I chose it. I owed no one for it because it couldn’t have been purchased. It belonged to me free and clear. I had never felt more empowered.

Ian’s breathing deepened as he frantically searched my face. Say it. He had to have known. He had to have felt it as I did…but no words came.

A rap at the door came just as he’d begun to open his mouth and the moment died at our feet, never to resuscitate. It was gone and my heart tumbled beside it. I knew my expression was one of pain, of disappointment, because he furrowed his brows and slid his hands to my face, trying to force it to right. I was no longer going to mask myself. I was a different person from then on. Vulnerability was acceptable to me because it was real. He shook his head as another knock resounded.

He cleared his throat. “Co-Coming,” he spoke, still attempting to smooth my skin.

“We’ll be down at the cars,” Simon said and we heard his footsteps fade away.

Ian turned his head away from me and toward the door. “We can take my car, for privacy.”

I was hurt and no longer capable of hiding how I felt, so I turned toward the bathroom, feigning I needed something. “That’s fine,” an unfamiliar broken voice sounded from my lips.

I picked up the pocketbook I’d set down on the bed at some point and made my way toward the door.

“Soph,” Ian whispered, grabbing at my arm. I let him stop me, but I refused to face him.

“Yes, dear?” I said, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Don’t,” he begged.

I looked his way but still refused to turn. “Don’t, what?” I asked, a fake, polite smile plastered across my lips.

“We should talk,” he said.

I ignored that. “We should probably leave, Ian. I don’t want your mother hating me any more than she already does.”

I slipped my arm from his grip and opened the door, following the short corridor out into the living room and through the front door. I could feel Ian’s heavy presence right behind me, close yet so very far away. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at the same time. I was so confused. I loved him. I swore he loved me back, but he’d just stood there.

I descended down the winding pebble-paved drive and found my way to the cars. Standing beside them all was Ian’s family. I smiled at them despite my heavy heart.

“You’re a vision, Sophie,” Simon said, reaching for my hand and kissing my cheek.

“Very lovely,” Henrik added with a jovial smile.

I looked on Abri in her sleek black dress and met her gaze. “Very beautiful, Abri,” I told her sincerely. She simply nodded.

No one, from what I could tell, knew what had transpired between Ian and me in that room. No one, except for Abri. She studied me closely, then her son, and back to me. Her eyes narrowed on us both.

Henrik opened the passenger door of a silver Audi for Abri and she got in, her gaze still plastered on Ian and me. Simon let himself into the back of the sedan and Henrik walked to the driver’s side. I watched all of them before Ian’s hand found my lower back.

“I’m over here,” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine despite what had transpired.

He led me to a black Mercedes G-Class. “This is yours?” I asked him.

“Not really. It’s just the car I used when I lived here. My parents bought it.”

“I see.”

He opened my door for me and I slid in. I reached for my belt but he beat me to it, wrapping me with it and buckling me in. He kissed my neck unexpectedly, perplexing me, and shut the door.

“What was that?” I asked him when he got in on his side.

“What was what?” he asked, buckling himself in.

“The belt? The kiss?”

“I needed to do it, wanted to be close to you then, I guess.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if that explained it and started the engine, bracing his hand on my headrest as he backed out of the driveway. We followed his parents to Aubergine’s in silence. He never took his hand off the headrest and the warmth from his hand kept permanent butterflies fluttering. It felt bittersweet though because, at the same time, my heart pounded in hurt.

Just because he didn’t say he loved you doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, Sophie.

I was being a little bit pyscho. I knew it. It’s just, the whole love thing was new to me. I’d never loved anyone like I’d loved Ian before.

Cut yourself some slack then, but move on. Own your feelings but don’t expect reciprocation. Let that come if it comes.

I let the bitterness melt off my chest and slither to my feet.

“I couldn’t say it,” he blurted.

My head whipped his direction. “I know.”

“You don’t understand,” he said.

“I do,” I told him, resting my cheek against his hand.

He looked at me briefly and I tried to convey to him that there was no pressure. He turned back toward the road.

“No, you really, really don’t.” He took a deep breath. “The truth is, I’m so deep in love with you, I can’t see straight. The truth is, I’ve been afraid to admit it to myself, let alone you. The truth is, I’m terrified.”

“Why? Am I really so frightening?”

He smiled at me. “Shockingly so.”

“Ian.”

“You have no idea what you do to me. I’ve felt things for you these past few months that don’t seem healthy. I’ve wanted you so desperately I’m afraid it may not be natural. You consume my thoughts, Sophie,” he confessed, seemingly forgetting I was there. He spoke to the windshield, a sort of haze drifting over him. “You’ve arrested my senses and I can’t seem to get enough of you. That’s what scares me. I’m so deep there’s no getting out for me. You own me, you know?”

I fixed myself so I faced him. “No, I’m afraid I don’t, Ian. Embellish for me. Pretend I’m one of your students and I don’t comprehend the lesson. Go into great detail...painstaking detail,” I flirted, my heart pounding in my chest at his proclamation.

He fought a smile. “I don’t know why I opened this floodgate. I’m tired, that’s why, and you look so damn bewitching right now.” He sighed. “At Masego, the way you roll the sleeves up your forearms, highlighting your beautiful skin with the perfect wrists that meet those incredible hands. I’ve imagined those hands on me so many times,” he continued, shocking me and drifting further into his own thoughts.

“That might be when I first became aware. Possibly it’s the way your jeans hug your thighs every time you take a single step though. All I can think of when you’re around me are those damn legs, how they’d feel in my palms, how they’d feel wrapped around my waist.” He lightly tapped a fist against the wheel and I sat up a bit. “They’re distracting. Or maybe it’s when your hair is loose and wild and down your back. I’d give anything to see it across your bare shoulders,” he swallowed, “or coiled around my fists,” he declared. He shook his head back and forth slowly, eyes still trained on the road ahead. “It’s actually all those things,” he said suddenly, “but mostly I think it’s your face.”

I squirmed quietly in my seat, praying to God I didn’t break his seemingly unaware trance. My pulse beat erratically at the confession. I felt my throat dry, my stomach drop and it was everything I’d never experienced before but knew was exactly as it should have always felt. My hands gripped the leather beneath my fingers to keep from throwing themselves at him and wrapping themselves around his shoulders.