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“We should go in separately,” I rush to say.

He turns to me. “Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me in front of my own family?”

“No, so that no one suspects what we were doing.”

“Ziva, everyone is going to take one look at you and know exactly what you were doing.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your cheeks are stained red, your lips are swollen, and your clothes are rumpled.”

That has me backing away from the door. “I can’t go in there like this!”

“Do you want me to tell everyone you’re ill?”

“Yes, that’s a great idea.”

He looks up at the sky, and I realize he wasn’t serious. “I promise it won’t be that bad. Now come here.”

He tugs me through the door after him. Everyone is readying the dinner table. The house is warm and loud and full of movement. No one takes notice of us. Until his mother looks up and sees my hand in his. She smiles.

“Well, are you going to stand there or help?” she asks.

And that’s that. We separate. I put my focus on hefting food to the table, but everywhere I go, I’m aware of exactly where Kellyn is in the room. Like there’s a string connecting us, and every time he moves, I feel the tug.

He sits beside me instead of near his parents tonight. I think maybe everything will be fine.

Until Temra sees me.

She opens her mouth, closes it. Notes how close Kellyn is sitting next to me. But she doesn’t say a word as she sits on my other side.

It isn’t until Kellyn’s father has offered thanks to the Sisters for the meal and everyone noisily digs into their food that she leans forward and says, “Well done.”

That night, it truly is impossible to sleep. I’m replaying every moment of the evening in my head, memorizing every movement and every feeling. My mind is so busy that it won’t calm. And even when the dawn comes, I’m still staring at the canopy.

When the boys disappear for chores, Temra corners me before I can do the same. “I want to hear every single detail.”

So I relive it again, answering every question she asks. It feels nice to share this good thing with her. I don’t even seem to feel that tired, despite not having slept.

It’s strange to have a mind thinking on good things for a change. Right now, I’m not scared of anything. Not what anyone will think of me, or if I should be embarrassed by anything I’ve done. Is this how everyone else feels? Those who don’t have my attacks because they can’t stop worrying?

Everything is happy and wonderful until I see him again.

I spent the day in the forge, constructing more of the mold, while Kellyn worked the fields. I haven’t seen him in hours, and I beat him home for dinner. But the moment he steps into the house, I know it. I can’t meet his eyes. It’s embarrassing. Because I know what he’s thinking and he knows what I’m thinking. And Temra does, too, but she’s too kind to say anything about it.

How do people deal with this? These moments and these pressures and the constant thoughts that just don’t go away?

Being social is hard, and sharing a piece of yourself with someone in this way is even harder.

I sit at the table, and Kellyn leans his long body down into the chair next to me. I feel myself start to panic at his nearness, but either Kellyn knows me better than I think he does, or he’s just naturally capable of giving me what I need.

He starts talking. “The little ones joined us in the fields today. They like helping with the orchards. It amuses them to no end to see how high I can hoist them in the air to reach the fruit at the top of the trees. Afterward, Tias spotted a gardensnake winding through the tall grass, so we chased it. I caught it, and everyone let it wrap around their fingers for a bit until we released it back to the wild. Then Wardra found a patch of flowers, and she made us all crowns.”

When I finally look at him, I see he has a crown of flowers in his hair.

In his other hand, he brandishes a yellow blossom on a long stem and sets it beside me.

His talking puts me to rest. It gives my mind something to process without any pressure, and my heart warms at the sight of the flower.