“If I had a secret, would you want to know?”
“There’s probably a reason it’s a secret. So, no.”
“Don’t you want to hear it?”
I tapped the silky top of her head. “Marlow . . . it’s getting late. And you really should get some sleep.”
“It’s about them.”
“Them?”
“Mom and Dad.”
She looked scared and determined all at once and then turned away, shutting her eyes. Her breathing grew heavy and I wondered if she even knew what she had said.
Her mood shifted back to all vitality the following evening, when Sawyer and Ada came over for a special dinner cooked by Moni, an occasion that had gotten rarer. I saw her pull him aside. They laughed and tossed their heads back over stories from the past. She leaned in a few times and spoke in a low voice, practically a whisper. Her hand would touch his arm and he would nod to whatever she said.
I poured another glass of red wine and let it flood between my teeth as I watched them.
I had invited Oliver over for the dinner as well. He positioned his elbow out and rested it on my shoulder.
“You know he loves you like nothing I’ve ever seen, right?”
I stood up straighter and held my glass with both hands. “I know. That’s why I’m marrying him.”
Marlow giggled loudly. I took another sip.
We watched them for a moment before Oliver put his hand over his mouth and muffled a chuckle. “Did I ever tell you about the time when you got the flu? I think we were like, nine or ten? You had it pretty bad, remember?”
“Yeah—Dad said I was one temperature check away from going to the hospital. Why?” I said, my eyes keeping in place.
“Well, Sawyer . . . he was so worried about you. He made us ride our bikes all the way to the library. And he asked them to pull out all the medical reference books for him. As if he was going to find a way to help you. Can you believe it?”
I saw Sawyer stand up and then hug her.
“He was like that. He still is like that.”
“You don’t have to tell me this.”
Oliver circled the rim of his wineglass with his finger. He squeezed my arm and then moved on, sitting next to Ada in the living room. I could hear him ask about when she was going to finally get a Harley, followed by her cackling and slapping his arm.
After everyone had gone for the night—the leftover food tucked away in containers, Marlow passed out upstairs in her old room—I held the knight in my hand and examined it. The etchings of the slit in the visor had faded; parts of the paint had chipped off. I slid it in the pocket of my cobalt-blue dress, the one Sawyer said made me irresistible. We sat in the backyard, his hands around my waist. I still trembled under his touch. There was something delirious about the firm paddings of his hands.
“You are something, Isla Baek,” he said and then kissed my ear and cheek. “Are you sure you want to marry a guy like me?”
“A guy like you?” I mocked.
He laughed gently in my ear and then stroked the insides of my arms. I held both of my hands out in closed fists.
“Pick one.”
“What?”
“Just pick one.”
He settled me back in his lap and leaned forward. “Does this count as my wedding gift?”
I slugged his shoulder playfully. “Pick one.”
He tapped my right hand. I opened it to reveal an empty palm.
“All right. The other, then.”
I held up the knight figurine for him to see. He sat up straighter and then plucked it gently from me. He began to laugh. Softly at first, until it rolled into an uproar and a few tears trickled down.
“Where did you find this?” he asked in disbelief.
I leaned in closer, my forehead close to his. “Truth?”
“Yes, truth.”
I told him about how I found it in the grass that day. The very first day, moment, minute we met. How I don’t know what came over me, but I’d picked it up and kept it all these years.
“I have returned it now to its rightful owner.”
He stared at it again and then pulled me in. “I’ll always keep it here. That way you won’t steal it from me again.” He tucked it in his pocket. He kissed my neck and then mouth, longer and deeper. “I love it.” He took my hand. “I love you, Isla.”
We were married a few weeks later, our wedding day a glowing fall afternoon. He wore a navy suit and I a simple cream silk dress. I held a small bouquet of peach peonies and walked down our field to him. The tops of the tall grass swayed for us, and he bit the bottom of his lip when we joined hands and drank me in, as if he did not want the image of me to ever go away. I wondered if he would ever look that handsome again. I didn’t want him to. I wanted to see him older. I wanted to be able to think back on him like this, how I was the lucky one.
