Page 187 of Oleander

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“You?” I asked.

“I’m alright, too.”

The long-dead glimmer of hope flickered to life again. I’d smothered it more times than I could count, but it always returned. An old friend.

“Are you...seeing anybody?”

Cas smiled, shy. Then shook his head. “No. I’m not.”

I nodded. To my delight and surprise, it was him who spoke next, turning his body slightly towards me as he did.

“Jude, I know we’ve done this backwards, completely, and I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me. But we’ve established I’m rather selfish, and so I wondered if you might be willing...and able...perhapsyou’rewith someone now, I don’t know, I should probably have asked that first. But if not, I wonder if you might be willing to give me another chance. With you. We could go for dinner, or a drink: whatever you’d be comfortable with.”

He was nervous. Caspien Deveraux was asking me out, and he was nervous about it.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked, half-smiling.

His cheeks flushed, beautifully. “I...yes. I think so. But only if you’re single, and you’re going to say yes, because otherwise...well that’s rather awkward. And embarrassing.”

“Cas, I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen. I’ve wanted this since I was fifteen. I’m not about to turn you down, am I?”

“Maybe you’d want to torture me a little. I don’t know. I’d deserve it.”

I reached out slowly and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear where it had come loose.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

He leaned into my hand, eyes fluttering closed a little, before he pitched forward and wrapped his arms around me. He buried his face in my neck as he hugged me tight. I held him like thatfor a long time, his body warm and solid against my chest as he breathed me in. The promise I’d made under the moon flared up bright and potent inside me again.

Love him. Love him. Love him.

It was a dangerous and violent thing to love. And just like me, Cas was war-weary and battle-scarred. But together we’d heal. Together, we’d smooth away the cracks on our hearts so that they could do what they were made to do: love.

Epilogue

Gideon died on a Friday, quietly and without much theatre. Jude, Jasper, and I beside him as he went. We’d never used the word ‘love’ with each other, and that day was no different.

He still knew me by the end, which Jasper said was unusual. Still knew Jude. He’d gripped his hand and whispered another apology for his part in everything that had happened while I watched, quiet and wary, even now untrusting that he wouldn’t drip his poison into the well of us.

The night before he died, I’d sat by his bedside and read to him. Jude had gone to bed, and I’d sat in the dim light, the sound of his breathing so slow and so shallow that I was certain he’d gone. But then he’d spoken.

“Caspien, you won’t leave him again, will you?” he’d rasped. “No matter what?”

“I am not doing this, Gideon,” I said, not looking up. “If you no longer want me to read, then I’ll go to bed. But we are not discussing him. I’ve told you this already.”

“But you will tell him you love him,” he said, as though I hadn’t just refused to discuss it. “He needs to hear you say it, Caspien.”

I sighed and closed the book, lifting my eyes to the bed. “You do not have to worry about him, alright. I plan to make him happy.” And I did. I’d never do anything to hurt him, not again.

“And you’ll be happy too, won’t you? You deserve to be happy, too.”

“Yes, Gideon. I plan on being happy, too. With Jude. Please stop worrying about that.”

“But you’ve told him? He knows how you feel? How you’ve always felt?”