working on another ballet.
The tires are great in the snow. The wind is blowing in off the lake, savage and wet.
I don’t care. Not even a blizzard could keep me home tonight.
Miko’s watching for me. He opens the gates automatically as I approach. I drive up to the house, which looks taller and darker than ever under the blanket of white covering the roof.
The front door stands open. I leave the Jeep out front and I run inside.
I step into the glow of hundreds and hundreds of candles. The whole entryway is filled with them—all different heights and sizes, glimmering in the dark. The candles are white and the light they cast is rich gold, filling the space with the scent of smoke and sweet beeswax. Mikolaj is welcoming me home.
I follow the path through the candles, across the main floor, out to the conservatory.
It’s always summer in here. The plants are as thick and green as ever. Mikolaj is waiting for me on the bench, as I knew he would be. He stands up when he sees me. He’s dressed more formally than usual, in a button-up shirt and trousers, his hair carefully combed. I can smell his cologne, and beneath that, the heart-pounding scent of his skin.
I run into his arms, kissing him. The kiss goes on and on, neither of us wanting it to end. I’m so happy to be back here. I don’t know how such a strange place could suit me so well, but it does. It was made for me, a hundred years before I was even born. And Miko bought it for us, before he knew I existed.
When we finally break apart, he brushes the last of the melting snow from my hair.
“God, I missed you,” he says.
“I have something for you,” I say. “It’s just little.”
I pull it out of my bag—wrapped, even though it’s impossible to disguise a book.
Mikolaj rips off the paper. He smiles when he sees what’s inside.
It’s a first edition of “Through the Looking Glass,” to replace the one I ruined. It has a rich red cover, stamped with a gold border and a cameo of the Queen of Hearts.
He opens to the first page—an illustration of a knight on horseback.
“You don’t have that in a tattoo yet,” I say, teasing him. “Do you have any blank space left? Maybe on the bottom of your foot?”
He kisses me again, squeezing me tight.
“Thank you, Nessa. It’s perfect.”
“So,” I say, “Should we go upstairs? I’ve been missing your room, too . . .”
“Don’t you want your present?” Miko says.
I try to hide my grin, without success. I’ve always loved gifts. Even the littlest ones make me happy. I love to be surprised.
I’m thinking Mikolaj probably got me a new record. He let me keep the old turntable, and the box of vintage vinyl. He knows I’ve been using it for the new ballet. So I’m guessing he has an addition for my collection.
But Miko really does surprise me, by dropping down on one knee.
“It’s not a gift exactly,” he says, “Since I didn’t pay for it . . .”
He pulls a little box out of his pocket and opens it up. Inside I see the last thing in the world I was expecting: my grandmother’s ring.
“What?” I gasp. “How did you—”
“I was a corpse when I met you, Nessa,” he says. “No breath. No heart. No life. I felt nothing. I cared about nothing. Then I saw you, and you woke me up inside. I was such a fool at first. I was so numb that I thought that spark must be hatred. If I was a normal person, I would have realized it was love. Love at first sight. From the second I laid eyes on you.”
He takes the ring out of the box and holds it up. The diamond sparkles as brightly as ever in its antique setting.
“I wanted to hate you, because that was easier. But as I watched you, it was impossible to ignore your kindness, your intelligence, your creativity. You’re good Nessa, truly and intrinsically good in a way that most people could never dream of being. But you’re so much more than that. You’re talented, and beautiful, and the sexiest fucking woman in the world. Shit, I wasn’t going to swear during this.”
I laugh, and also give a little sob, because I’m so, so happy. I want to speak, but I don’t want to interrupt Mikolaj. I want to hear everything he has to