Believe Me (Shatter Me, #6.5) (37)

“I really, really wanted to tell you about it,” she says, her brows knitting together. “But I couldn’t say anything because I knew you’d want to come see the area, and then you would’ve noticed all the building materials, and then you would’ve wanted to know why so many people were working so hard on this one house, and then you would’ve wanted to know who was going to live in it—”

“I wouldn’t have asked that many questions.”

She shoots me a hard look.

“No, you’re right.” I nod. “I would’ve ruined the surprise.”

“HEY!”

I spin around at the sound of the familiar voice. Kenji is coming around the side yard of the house. He’s holding a folding chair in one hand, and waving what appears to be a sprig of some kind of flower in the other. “You two coming in or what? Brendan is complaining about losing the light or some shit—he says the sun will be directly overhead in a couple of hours, which is apparently really bad for photos? Anyway, Nazeera is getting impatient, too; she says J needs to start getting ready soon.”

I stare at Kenji, then Ella, dumbfounded. She already looks perfect. “Get ready how?”

“I have to put on my dress,” she says, and laughs.

“And makeup,” Kenji shouts from across the street. “Nazeera and Alia say they need to do her makeup. And something about her hair.”

I stiffen. “You have a dress? But I thought—”

Ella kisses me on the cheek, cutting me off. “Okay, there might be a few more surprises left in the day.”

“I’m not sure my heart can handle any more surprises, love.”

“How’s this for a surprise?” Kenji says, leaning against the folding chair. “This beautiful piece of shit right here?” He gestures at the dilapidated house next door. “This one’s mine.”

That wipes the smile off my face.

“That’s right, buddy.” Kenji is grinning now. “We’re going to be neighbors.”





TWELVE


Ella is soon whisked away by a tornado of women—Nazeera, Alia, and Lily—who come charging out the door in a swarm, enveloping her in their depths before I’ve even had a chance to say a proper goodbye.

There’s little more than a faint squeak from Ella—

And she’s gone.

I find myself standing alone in front of what I’m still processing as my own home, my mind spinning, heart racing, when Kenji walks over to me.

“C’mon, man,” he says, still smiling. “You’ve got stuff to do, too.”

I look at him. “What kind of stuff?”

“Well, first of all, this is for you,” he says, offering me the small sprig I noticed in his hand earlier. “It’s for your lapel. It’s like a, you know—like a—a—”

“I know what a boutonniere is,” I say stiffly. I accept the small spray, examining it now with surprise. It’s a single gardenia nestled against a tasteful arrangement of its own glossy leaves, the stems tied up with a bit of black ribbon, struck through with a pin. The bundle is elegant and shockingly fragrant. Gardenias are in fact one of my favorite flowers.

I look up at Kenji then, unable to hide my confusion.

He shrugs. “Don’t look at me, bro. I have no idea what kind of flower that is. J just told me what she wanted.”

“Wait.” I frown at that, more confused by the moment. “You did this?”

“I just did what she asked me to do, okay?” he says, putting up his hands. “So if you hate the flower you should talk to your fiancée, because it’s not my fault—”

“But where did this flower come from? I saw people with flowers earlier, too, and I didn’t understand where—”

“Oh.” Kenji drops his hands. He stares at me a moment before saying, “The old sector headquarters. You remember how you guys always had these rare flower arrangements at 45? We never knew where or how they were being sourced, but everyone always thought it was strange that the HQ could get fancy orchids or whatever, while civilians couldn’t get their hands on much more than dandelions. Anyway it was Juliette’s idea, actually. She recommended we track down the flower guy who used to carry out orders for The Reestablishment in this area. He helped us get everything we needed—but the flowers weren’t delivered until late last night. Another reason why J wanted to postpone.”

“Right.” I’m stunned. “Of course.”

My astonishment has nothing to do with discovering that Ella is just as impressive and resourceful as I’ve always known her to be; no, I’m simply incapable of believing anyone would go to such lengths for me.

I’m still reeling a bit as I attempt to pin the flower to my sweater, when Kenji holds up a hand again.

“Uh, don’t do that just yet,” he says. “Come on.”

“Why?”

“Because, man, we still have things to do.”

He turns as if to go, but I remain rooted to the ground.

“What kinds of things?” I ask.

“You know.” He makes an indecipherable gesture, frowning at me. “Wedding things?”

I feel myself tense. “If the purpose of my question has not yet been made evident to you, Kishimoto, allow me to be crystal clear now: I am asking you to be specific.”