a proposal, of sorts. ✔️

ten

I make it down the staircase and to the parlor in one piece, which I count as a victory. I find Trystan lounging across his purple sofa, reading a novel that looks remarkably similar to my own.

I can't resist the question. "The Rage of a Secret? I didn't take you for a romance reader. Or any sort of reader, to be honest."

He takes a moment to respond, placing the book where I had left it last, on our glass end table adorned with a gilded lantern. "I saw it sitting there a few days ago and decided to give it a chance to quell my boredom. I've had to spend a lot of time with myself, as of late."

"And? How do you like it?" I want to know entirely because the main character reminds me of him.

He presses his lips together as he rises from the couch. "The story is intriguing, but the characters exhaust me. It's completely unbelievable that she would choose to self-sabotage herself so many times."

Interesting. "Maybe it only reads to you as self-sabotage because you're not living it."

"Perhaps." He leaves it at that, and so do I. Reaching for his discarded suit jacket, a color of purple that bears a shocking resemblance to my hair, he grins at me. "Ready to leave?"

"Yes. I realized I forgot to ask what your plan was for our reintroduction to society," I respond, reaching for the pendant of my necklace that now lay in my vanity's drawer. My fingers settle on a curl of my hair instead.

Trystan's eyes track my movement, but as usual, he doesn't comment. "The theatre, dear wife. I've been told that tonight's play is a remarkable one."

"How exciting." Trystan holds out a hand as he reaches me, and I send my nervous one to hide in his.

He pauses as we exit the parlor, his eyes finding mine with patience I didn't know he was capable of. "Are you ready?"

I didn't expect the question. It feels like him asking for permission, in a way that lets my heartbeat quicken and spreads anxiety across my chest. I mumble my answer: "I think so."

He nods and reaches for his coat hanging from the nearby coat rack. The front door lives steps away, and therefore once he's donned it, he opens the door for me. I let him hold it there as I pass over the threshold and finally reconcile with fresh air after a week quarantined.

He reaches for my hand again. "Then let's brave the world together."