Then Dean walks back with a fresh set of confidence. Not like he’s been lacking in that department anyways.
“I didn’t know you could speak Swiss German.” Naturally, I find my way into the space in his arm and rest my hand there.
“I learned it in prison. Along with Urdu, French, Korean, and a little bit of Latin.”
I ignore the bubble of excitement I get and bite my tongue. So many questions, but I can’t ask them until he’s ready. “Any other tricks up your sleeve?”
He smiles like he’s trying to hold back his smile. It’s endearing. “If I told you, there’d be none left to surprise you with.”
“Okay,” I roll my eyes. “Then tell me what you were talking about.”
“That?” He juts his chin with goodbye as we follow the mob of people past him. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
He sighs at my incredulous tone. “Would you believe me if I say that he told me we’re in the middle of Switzerland’s first ever lantern festival?”
I gasp. “You’re lying!”
Dean shakes his head with a tooth-filled smile. “I’m glad I’m not.”
“Did you know that was on my bucket list?” I’mbouncingwith elation.
I’ve wanted to attend a lantern festival since Tangled. Seeingthe lanterns in the sky, watching the world light up momentarily as everyone is united all at once? It has to be magical.I’m about to see it.
“I used to tell my sisters all the time about wanting to go and my oldest, Nadine, promised we’d go one day but then she…” my voice lowers, fading into the background. Memories of us sitting on her bed, the heater going on beneath her blanket. Chit-chatting like we had nothing better to do than be with each other. The days leading up to her wedding, the constant reassurance from her that nothing between us would change, but then she moved all the way to Alberta. Rosa moved to Vancouver not so long after that and I was left alone with my parents.
Life went on for everyone but me.
“She what?” He asks patiently.
Forcing a smile, “She got married.”
Dean pinches his lips together.
Pulling at our interlocked arms, “We’ll miss the chance at getting a lantern at this pace.”
His gaze burns into the side of my face. Not the time to trauma dump on a man who dealt with enough.
We wait in line to buy a lantern. Gnawing at my bottom lip, “Why aren’t you asking me?”
“You don’t want to talk about it.”
My calves burn with each uphill step. “I would if you asked me.”
“I can wait until you’re ready.”
Slightly disappointed at his reply.
I don’t get the chance to tell him that because someone shoves an unlit lantern at us.
“Are these free?” Dean looks down at the paper whooshing in the wind. The only thing keeping it from flying away are the circular metal rods.
“Don’t question it,” I push him from behind. “Smile and keep moving.”
His back rumbles against my palm and I’m too busy trying to maneuver us through the crowd to be in shock, but boy is it there, sinking into the pits of my chest and separating into every vein.
“Write with this,” a woman in a hijab offers her marker to me. There are people all around us. Everyone’s bustling with joy and contagious happiness that I can’t help but smile along with them. There’s live music playing. Violins. Guitars. Songs in languages I don’t know.
