Enji saw the tray of food still sitting untouched on the floor outside of the door to her room. Her prison cell she called it. She had refused to come out of her room at all despite him telling her she was free to roam just as long as she did not leave the property. She could have at least had the decency to eat the food he left for her.
"Damn stubborn woman," he muttered under his breath.
He knocked on the door. The sound seemed to echo on the other side as if the room were empty. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for any sounds of movement or even breathing - but all he could hear was his own.
His belly clinched with anxiety. Had she snuck out while he was gone to the store? He had trusted her to stay put, more for her own safety than any other reason. She better be in there. She had to be in there.
Enji banged on the door with both fists.
"Open this damn door!" he bellowed.
"NO!" Farrah screamed back.
Enji exhaled in relief. Maybe she had been in the bathroom or out on the porch since she did not answer earlier.
"Open the door, please," he requested in a much lower voice with forced politeness.
"I don't want to," she stubbornly returned.
"You can't stay in there forever."
"Yes, I can."
"You're acting like a child!" he admonished her.
"And you're an asshole!" she retorted.
God, she's so frustrating and annoying, Enji thought, picking up the tray holding a pot of cold tea and a dried disgusting sandwich.
"You could have at least eaten the food I brought you," he said, feeling the teeniest sting of rejection that she had not accepted his pitiful peace offering.
"I'm not hungry," Farrah mumbled.
She distinctly sounded like she was pouting. Enji could picture her clearly sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, her arms folded, and her bottom lip poking out like a pissed off teenage girl who had been told she couldn't go to the mall with her friends.
"Well, you have to eat sometime. I'm about to start cooking dinner," he announced, the dishes rattling as he shifted the tray in his hands.
"You cook?"
He rolled his eyes making a concerted effort to allow the words spoken with doubtful astonishment slide.
"You should join me in the dining room," he said.
"I'm not hungry!" she insisted in a shriek.
"I know you're lying," he retorted, kicking the door in frustration. It shivered as if it might rattle right off the hinges. "You gotta eat sometime or you'll starve to death!"
"Then I'll just die!"
"Quit being such a big baby! You will join me for dinner! Either on your own or I'll break down the damn door and drag you out of there!" he bellowed, kicking the door again as if to make his point. This time the wood cracked.
Before he could retreat down the hall, Farrah opened the door to glare at him.
"You are an asshole!" she hollered at him, her arms stiff at her sides and her fists pressing into her thighs.
Yep, she indeed did look like an angry child. However, that child was stuck in a grown woman's body who happened to be wearing the purple tank top and black form fitting skirt she had been wearing when she met him at the park a few nights ago. Her eyes were swollen and red and her cheeks puffy. Had she been crying all day?
Surprisingly, her black hair had been combed down smoothly against her head and pulled back into a bun secured loosely at the nape of her neck. If not for her face showing signs of her emotional distress, she was otherwise look pulled together. She was exquisite chaos - a perfect mess.
"Yeah. I am an asshole," he agreed, turning his back to her to begin walking away. "You've already told me that many time in the few interactions we've had with each other. I'm beginning to think you mean it."
His footsteps halted when he heard her scoff then chuckle lightly followed by a snort when she tried to stifle her amusement. A smile spread across his face while his frustration bordering on fury instantly dissolved. He had a gift for making her giggle when they were young and in love. There was something comforting in learning not everything between them had changed or been destroyed.
"Do you have any wine?" she asked from the door of her designated bedroom.
"Yeah," he replied without turning around. "Come join me in the kitchen. I'll pour you a glass."
Farrah bit her lower lip, hesitating at the end of the now empty corridor since he had disappeared into the kitchen. She could be stubborn and stay in the room all alone and hungry or she could set aside her pride and go to the kitchen for a glass of wine and food. Her belly rumbled casting its vote as to what she should do so she ignored the other pang in her gut from her overblown sense of pride being wounded.
When she entered the kitchen, Enji already had a glass of red wine sitting on the massive wooden butcher block prep table dominating the room that was bigger than Keigo's entire apartment. His back was turned to her while he washed something in the sink. The tiles of the floor were cold against her bare feet as she entered soundlessly to take a seat on the barstool positioned by the table laden with vegetables for a salad.
Enji turned toward her standing on the other side of the table but did not say a word or even glance at her as he began to peel the pear in his hand. Cutting a wedge from the partially peeled fruit, he extended it to her across the table on the tip of his knife.
"Thank you," she said, cautiously plucking from the fruit from the sharp object.
Enji remained silent, continuing to peel then cut the fruit into slices which he put on a plate he slide across the table to her.
Farrah felt the urge to start crying again as she ate another piece of the sweet fruit that had a taste and texture like an apple and pear combined. She loved these pears. When she could not find them at the store she ordered them to have them shipped to her no matter what the cost. Had he remembered how much she liked them or simply had them on hand? Regardless, he was thoughtful enough to offer one as an appetizer knowing her obstinate ass would be starving after foregoing lunch.
"I'm making your favorite for dinner, sweet and sour glazed salmon," he informed her, placing the fish on the grill part of the gas stove.
Farrah sniffed, swallowing hard in hopes of keeping her tears at bay. She picked up the glass of wine to take a sip.
"Are you okay?" Enji asked, turning toward her begin preparing the salad with the items spread across the table.
"No. I'm not," she confessed, raising the glass to her lips again.
"Want to talk about it?" he ventured in a gentle voice, slicing the fat juicy red tomato.
"Uhm...I don't..." She paused, sniffing again then clearing her throat as if to rid herself of the emotions threatening to choke her.
"I know. It's weird and difficult and couldn't be more confusing being together after all this time," he said, pulling apart the lettuce with his thick fingers to place it in the bowls. "I'm not sure how to act or what to the think or what to say or...or...or how to feel either."
"Stop," she scoffed, sniffing again and draining the glass of wine. She looked at him through her teary eyes, his image shifting and wavering under the salty water burning them like fire. "Just stop being so damn nice. I want to be angry with you. It's easier than feeling..." She inhaled sharply, her breath shaky. "Than feeling like this."
Enji put down the knife and the carrot he had been peeling. He looked directly into her eyes. He did not look angry or hurt. Just sad. So very sad and full of regret as if it were eating him alive emotionally like a cancer devastates the body.
"Feeling like what, Farrah?" he inquired pointedly, his eyes holding hers captive so that she could not look away even when the tears overflowed her lower eyelid and slid down her cheeks. "What do you feel?"
"You nailed it all. Confused. Hurt. Angry. I'm still so damn mad at you, Enji Todoroki. Things didn't have to be this way. If you had only - " Her own sob cut off her words. She picked up her wine glass but it was empty. Exhaling in frustration, she sat it back down.
Enji wiped his hands on the dish towel hanging on his belt like an apron. He picked up the bottle of wine to refill her glass.
"I know. But I didn't. And I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I did to you and Rei and my kids. If I could go back and do things differently, I would. I already told you this. The guilt..." He paused, taking a drink of wine straight from the bottle. "The guilt is crushing me. I feel like I can't breathe...like I don't deserve to breathe."
"I still love you," she blurted, not meaning to confess one of her main sources of bitterness toward him still haunting her to this day even in her dreams.
Enji's eyes met hers. They were wide with shock from her truthful confession, allowing her to see they were bloodshot as if he had been holding back his own tears. The unshed tears seemed to make their beautiful aquamarine irises glow with a light of their own.
"I still love you," Farrah repeated, giving a lopsided smile and awkward chuckle to offset her humiliation for allowing the truth to slip out.
She had not meant to say it, not wanting to let him know she was still his fool after all of these years. But for once in his arrogant, selfish life since he dumped her she had seen the nervous, vulnerable boy she had fallen in love with so many years ago. He reminded her why she loved him in the first place. Because despite his big tough body and scary booming voice, he was still nothing more than a frightened boy who wanted to be accepted, to be revered, to be respected - and loved.
"I hate myself for it," she admitted with brutal honesty. "For so many years I have hated myself because I couldn't stop loving the man who broke my heart so completely. The only thing that broke my heart more was when my father died. It was then I decided I'd never love another man for the rest of my life. Hanging on to the memory of you was easier than letting go and risking feeling something for someone else I guess."
Farrah nervously fingered the pearl pendant of the necklace. She had put it back on because why not? She was stuck here with the object of her affection that she had never able to let go of; just like she had never let go of the necklace he had given her.
"But I thought you were in love with Takami," he stated flatly, going to back to preparing the salad.
"I am. But you know as well as I do there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I'm pretty sure you loved Rei. You might not have ever been in love with her, but you had to love the woman you married, the mother of your children, right? I think what you've done for them now shows you truly love them all. Guilt can be an incredible motivator but not so much it makes a man push aside his own wants and needs to put those of his family ahead of his for the first time in his life."
Enji sighed, turning his back on her to tend to the fish. She was right of course. Hitting the nail on the head with precision to drive it right through his heart. There was no way to argue with her. There was no smart ass comment or quick witted retort to be made in response to her barbed words. Whether it had been intentional or not, she had cut him to the quick, and there was nothing he could say in return to defend himself.
She always did have that talent. Farrah could see through his bullshit and get straight the heart of a matter regardless of how much it hurt. Maybe that was one of the things he had hated about her. Like purifying gold, intense heat had to be applied, separating and burning away the worthless impurities to make the metal into something valuable. Yet another one of the many reasons they would have never worked.
Enji thought about the pearl in the pendant. Freshwater pearls are made when tissue is purposely inserted into the river or lake mollusk to irritate it so it will secrete nacre, the substance which forms the pearl. He had chosen the pearl rather than any other gemstone after the jewelry store owner told him the story of how they are made.
Farrah had irritated him sometimes, goading him to study more, to push himself harder to be better in everything, to want better for himself. She had no idea that would mean he would eventually dump her seeking to subvert the fatal flaw of his own quirk to avoid having it passed on to his children by choosing his mate for an arranged marriage to optimize genetics. If he had married her and had children with her, surely their children would have died from spontaneous combustion.
Enji swallowed. But it had all been for nothing in the end. One of his children had died because he burned himself and an entire forest down. He abused and alienated his family, driving his wife to a psychotic break. His children hated him. Shoto and Natsuo both had outright told him how much they abhorred him.
He cast a furtive glimpse at Farrah. Somehow one person in this entire world continued to love him. Had never stopped. Whether due to stupidity or insanity he did not know, she still loved him. He hoped it was neither.
"So what about Takami?" Enji asked, gazing directly at her.
Farrah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. The sad smile on her face and tears on her face explained everything. All three of them had known it would be a temporary affair to begin with, but Enji had not expected it to end so quickly between the two of them before anything even happened.
Maybe it was cruel but he already knew Takami had told her good-bye today, calling her on the cell phone he had stealthily slipped into the pocket of the hoodie she had been wearing. By her reaction of tears, he guessed she had been informed she would never be hearing from the winged hero again. He would not admit he was a little happy about that.
"Oh, Enji, are you jealous?" she sniffled, somehow finding a way to be snarky despite being so sad.
"I guess it's no surprise you would shed tears over someone you were in love with."
"Don't be stupid, Enji Todoroki," she snapped, swiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Anything with Keigo would have just been a torrid, pointless affair and would have been over with in a matter of days. Even he knew that. I wouldn't cry like this over just him you moron. But I am worried about him."
He was glad nothing ever happened between them. The thought of her making love to Keigo Takami turned his stomach, and he wanted to vomit thinking about it now. Although he had no claim to her, no right to be jealous because he wasn't her husband, her lover, her boyfriend, or even her friend, the green eyed monster reared its ugly head and roared.
Despite seething on the inside, Enji said nothing, concentrating on tending to the food. He needed to brush the sauce over the fish giving him a good excuse to turn his back to her. He knew why Takami unceremoniously dumped her before they even got going good.
Hawks was on to something. With her tucked away safely under lock and key and the supervision of the number one hero, he was free to dive in into his investigation with no distractions. The nosey kid had caught wind of a plot he needed to investigate, and if he wasn't already, he was about to get into it deep.
Enji wasn't sure what he was investigating yet because Hawks was keeping his secrets like always. The winged wonder had an infuriating way about him, speaking in riddles and acting in a manner that didn't make sense to cover his true intentions. He never divulged information until he was sure of something just like how the boy had been sneaking around seeing Farrah to find out how much longer she would be in Japan and what she might be plotting next.
Then something else came up to pull his attention away from her. Must be big since he had taken a personal interest in her beyond his professional inquisitiveness. Takami had called Enji to come get her, to protect her, that there was other business he needed to attend to. Something far more nefarious than any trouble the dear Molly might stir up had to be brewing which made Enji a bit nervous.
"So what are you crying over, Farrah?" Enji inquired, refilling her glass.
"Being stuck here with you is more difficult than you can imagine," she replied, pausing to take sip of the wine. "Everything I thought I had gotten past came crashing right back down on me when I saw you that day. I even tried to use that sweet angel to push it all away."
Enji visibly winced upon hearing her refer to Takami as a "sweet angel" then went to the stove to remove the fish from the grill. It was as good of an excuse as any to turn away from her so abruptly. He kept reminding himself he had no right to feel the way he was feeling.
"I'm such an awful person," she whispered as if talking to herself.
"Maybe we deserve each other," he said, sliding the plate with piece of fish over to her.
"Maybe we do," she agreed, watching his hands as he set the bowl of salad down beside the plate.
It was like watching someone perform a ritual as he carefully set each dish in front of her. He held onto the vessels with both of his large hands, some like the bowl of rice, just with his fingertips. Lastly, he placed the set of silver chopsticks in front of her plate.
Farrah placed her hands together as if praying and said, "Itadakimasu."
Enji repeated the gesture then smiled at her.
"You remembered."
"I've visited other parts of Japan over the years. Besides, I wouldn't want to be rude before receiving this beautiful meal. It looks good, Enji. Thank you," she said, picking up her chopsticks.
"Well, wait until you taste it to be so complimentary," he muttered, cutting off a piece of the fish to try it.
"Mmmm," she moaned in appreciation after tasting the salmon. "Oh, my God! It's amazing!"
Enji's face reddened from her extremely expressive compliment.
"Is it okay to eat in here?" he asked, suddenly overtly self-conscious. He had not felt this nervous since he decided to walk right up to her to speak to her for the first time. "There is a formal dining room if you'd like to go in there."
"No. This is fine. I like this," she assured him, looking around the kitchen fit for a trained chef.
Skillets of varying size hung on the wall behind the stove. There was a half empty wine rack against the wall by the pantry. Dried herbs and flowers hung in bunches tied with ribbons from the rack above their heads. Antique copper molds that had been well cared for and shined prettily decorated one wall. There was one pan shaped like a fish and another like an owl.
"My daughter, Fuyumi, decorated the kitchen," Enji told her when saw her smiling at the whimsical copper pans. "She found those one by one in random places. Junk shops. Antique stores. She even one or two in the trash." He reached up to touch a bunch of dried lavender tied together with a purple ribbon. "She dried these herself. Took them from the garden her mother started when she was a toddler."
Farrah quietly ate, watching his face as he talked about his only precious daughter. He had a gentle smile on his lips. His eyes were far away as if remembering the days when she would call him daddy and run to him with open arms.
Did he ignore her and push her away saying 'not now, daddy's busy'? She had to wonder by the way his smile suddenly disappeared and his jaw tightened. The muscles writhed underneath the skin beside his ears while he gritted his teeth.
"I have to go to work tomorrow," he said, turning his attention back to his food. "It's best I don't call in too much. Things need to look as normal as possible."
There was nothing normal at all about this situation.
"But it's your agency right? Who is going to say something to you?"
"So you want me to stay here with you?" He raised a questioning eyebrow, smiling at her.
"No," she squeaked, clearing her throat and taking a sip of her wine. "No. I was just saying you're the boss. You can do what you want right? Who's going to question you?"
"No one. But you know as well as I do people talk, and they talk a lot."
"Oh, yes. Spreading gossip and vicious rumors is so much more entertaining than minding one's own business or finding out the truth of a matter."
"Finding out the truth of the matter would be so much worse in this situation, don't you think? I'm harboring a criminal after all rather than taking you to jail," he reminded her.
"So no one knows I'm here?"
"No one but Hawks. And he knows how to keep a secret." He took another swig from the almost empty bottle. "Even from his boss. I had no idea something was going on with you two until he called me and said you were in danger."
"Oh, I see," she murmured, digging into her salad. "This food is really scrumptious. You're a great cook, Enji."
"Uh huh," he murmured, an amused smile stretching his lips when she quickly changed the subject. "You genuinely liked him huh?"
"He's a nice guy. Thoughtful. Flirty. Handsome." She watched the coloration of Enji's face steadily deepen to a crimson so dark it verged on turning purple as if he was holding his breath. "A little conceited. But for some reason I seem to be attracted to men who are full of themselves."
Enji coughed making her giggle and snort.
"Well, uh, to each their own I guess if you like that sort of thing," he said in response since she was clearly referring to him. "My little piggy."
"Hey!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the table. "Don't call me that!"
He reached across the table and grabbed her nose between his forefinger and middle finger, squeezing gently and shaking her head slightly.
"And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee all the way home," he teased her like he did when they were high schoolers.
"Stop that!" She swatted his hand away, just as she would back then making both of them laugh. The laughter quickly dwindled into wistful sighs.
"Do you think we could have made it?" Enji asked her, watching her scoop rice into her mouth as if to avoid answering the question.
Farrah shook her head.
"We would have killed each other wouldn't we?" he inquired since she still had a mouth full of food, receiving an enthusiastic nod of agreement.
"Without a doubt," she mumbled after swallowing. "Hey, uhm, why don't we take a walk after dinner? I've been feeling a little cooped up in here."
"You're more than welcome to walk around wherever you please. I already told you that you are free to go where you want...as long..." His words faltered when she folded her arms under her breasts and glared down at the floor. "As long..." He stumbled verbally again when she shook her head and exhaled noisily in frustration. "...as you...what?"
"I'm asking you to talk a moonlit walk with me you big dummy. God, you're just as stupid now as you were back then," she muttered, glowering hotly at him.
"Oh, right," he mumbled, massaging the back of his neck.
Enji had missed the cues the first time she had asked him out too. Apparently she had grown tired of waiting for him to ask so she had started to hint around prompting him to ask her, opening doors he was simply too boneheaded to walk through. Finally she grew frustrated and yelled at him she wanted him to take her out to dinner and a movie. Just to irritate her more, he had asked her "Why didn't you just say so?" although that was precisely what she had done.
"Why didn't you just say so?" he asked, giving her a wide grin.
Her face reddened, then she burst out laughing. That noisy, braying donkey laugh that embarrassed her but amused him as much as her little piggy snorts. He started to laugh too.
"Oh, my God, Enji. I don't think I've laughed this much in years. Even a month ago if someone had told me I'd be sitting here laughing and having this conversation with you, of all people, I would have called them crazy."
"Then killed them?" he ventured, going to the refrigerator to get a bottle of tea.
"Oh, yeah, I would have definitely killed them for saying such a thing."
The laughter died away into a strained silence.
"How many people have you murdered?" Enji asked her.
"I don't know," she replied calmly despite feeling anything but calm.
Why did her insist on purposely touching such a sensitive nerve? Did he really forget who he was dealing with? She could be an assassin with words and not just her Molotov cocktails. When her eyes met his, she watched him visibly prepare himself for the verbal assault. He stood up straighter, clenching his jaw while stubbornly maintaining eye contact with her.
"Tell me, Mr. Number One Hero. How many people have you killed? How many villains did you issue a death sentence to in the streets carrying out your own brand of justice?" She sucked in a deep breath, employing every ounce of self-control to stay calm and seated, speaking a low even tone. "How many innocent people have lost their lives or been injured, possibly disabled for the rest of their lives when you knocked down buildings or flipped cars or burned down something while trying to catch some heinous criminal?"
"I don't know," he admitted with a sigh. "Heroes are sometimes just as bad as the villains aren't they?"
"Worse. At least we know we're bad and do shitty things, we own up to it. We don't mask it under the guise of being so damn good even our shit doesn't stink. We don't pretend to be the saviors of the world rescuing people or catching the bad guys while ignoring the collateral damage and ruined lives we leave in our wake," she said, her lips quivering and her words becoming shaky among her shuddering breaths. "I am extremely aware of every life I take. I do my damndest to avoid making any victims of the truly innocent."
"That's what sets you apart from most villains. I hate to even call you one." He could not take his eyes off of her tear stained face despite how much it pained him to look at her. "I'm so sorry your father was killed when he was trying to do good, to make amends for everything he had done."
"It's not you who should be apologizing. That asshole hero never did admit he was wrong. My father died like a dog in the streets and everyone believed he got what he deserved. Even villains have families, people who love them," she said, fresh tears flowing down her face. She swiped angrily at the fluid trickling from her eyes. "Goddammit! You would think at some point there would be no more tears left to cry."
"I suppose one does reach a point where there is no atoning for their sins. There is no way back when you've gone too far," he sighed heavily.
"Apparently so," she agreed, sliding from her stool to bow to him. "Gochisousama. It was very good."
"But you didn't finish," he pointed out, glancing at her dishes that were still half full of food.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I lost my appetite."
Farrah began to pick up her dishes in preparation to take them to the sink.
"Leave it. I'll take care of it," Enji said, meeting her gaze. "Did you still want to take that walk?"
Farrah inhaled with the intention of screaming 'hell no' at him. She blew out the breath, closing her eyes momentarily before opening them once more to see him staring intently at her. His sad, pleading puppy dog eyes would not allow her to say no. Those damn gorgeous eyes of his were still her weakness.
"After all these years, I'm still your fool," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Let's take a fucking walk. I'll go get my shoes."
"I'll meet you on the porch outside your room."
Rather than grabbing her high heels she would normally wear with this outfit, Farrah put on her black ballerina flats. Since the air was cool, she grabbed a sweater and pulled it on as well. Before she opened the door, the smell of cigarette smoke let her knew he was there waiting for her outside just like he said he would be.
Upon sliding open the back door, she inhaled in awe, astonished to see the garden was lit up with lanterns and tiny little fairy lights strung throughout the trees and bushes. It looked so beautiful; as if pieces of the stars had fallen from the night sky to impart their light on earth. Or maybe it was another world entirely; a fantastic magical world where there were no heroes and villains, where suffering and pain didn't exist. She needed to believe in the latter scenario her imagination had conjured up no matter how ridiculous and childish it seemed.
Farrah stared at the man standing in front of her. In the dim light, she saw him as the shy sixteen year old she had first met. Young and unscarred. He hadn't become a heinous asshole yet. The boy she had fallen in love with, not the man she seemed to keep finding new reasons to abhor.
"Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her.
Without a word, she slid her hand into his palm to be engulfed by his massive hand. He had always been so warm. His touch gentle and comforting. Pulling her forward, he took both of her hands assisting her down the steps as he backed down them confidently. She would have fallen on her ass for sure if she had tried that maneuver, but he never faltered one bit. Presently, he was self-assured, not cocky, placing his arm across her back to rest his hand on her hip in order to lead her toward the little rock covered path that wound its way through the garden.
"I'm sorry about earlier. I really shouldn't have asked that," he said, his fingers pressing into her hip. "Actually, I was glad you didn't have an exact number. I think that would have bothered me more if you were keeping up with it. You weren't wrong about you said. I guess...I guess as heroes we try not to think about the collateral damage."
"The ends justify the means?" she offered thinking maybe that was the phrase to best describe it.
"Yeah. I suppose so. I guess what we both do really isn't that different after all."
"At it's core, it's not different at all. We both want to see someone who has done wrong to pay for their crimes, their sins. We just use different means."
"It's a fucked up world we live in and it's really unfair. So unfair," he added with a sigh.
"So is that why you haven't hauled my ass to jail?" she asked, stopping at the foot of the red bridge.
"No one knows you're the one responsible for those incidents. The only one who knows you're here besides me is Hawks."
"Oh, so once again I'm your dirty little secret."
"You seem to just want to fight tonight. This was supposed to be a pleasant walk to destress from our earlier argument," Enji reminded her.
"It is. I'm sorry," she apologized, walking onto the bridge and away from him. "I just don't know what's wrong with me."
"You're upset. Hurt. Angry. I get it, but can we put that aside for right now?"
Sure. I'll just put down the bitterness I've been carrying around for almost three decades to have a romantic evening with the man who caused me to feel this way, she thought, but sighed and said nothing instead.
At the top of the bridge she leaned her elbows on the handrail with her chin resting in her hand to gaze down into the koi pond. The moon above reflected on the smooth surface of the water as a white ball. She could feel his body behind her, his heat radiating to her as if he were a human space heater. Since she already knew he was close, she did not flinch when he slid his arms around her waist.
"Should you be doing this? You're still a married man," Farrah reminded him.
"I've been alone for a very long time," he rejoined, pressing his chest to her back when she stood up straight. "I'm so lonely."
And who's fault is that? Besides, you're not the only one who has been alone and lonely, her inner voice retorted. Rather than pulling away from him, she settled her head between his immense pectoral muscles.
"I'm just holding you. That's all," Enji added, resting his chin on top of her head. "Comforting a friend."
"A friend," she repeated in disbelief, laying her arms over his enclosing her waist.
He was playing a dangerous game, and he knew it. When playing with fire, a person is bound to get burned, but he was ready to feel something besides perpetual anger, unrelenting guilt, and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. No matter what he had achieved in his life, he never felt "good enough." And he was right. He never had been good enough and never would be.
"Enji? Are you all right?" she asked, patting his hand pressing flat against her belly.
"Yeah. I'm fine," he lied, letting her go and stepping back. "I'm really tired all of a sudden. Are you ready to go in?"
"Sure."
On the way back, they walked side by side without touching. Their hands did not even have the chance to accidentally brush because Enji put his hands in his pockets, and she folded her arms across her chest with her hands hidden in the sleeves of her sweater.
"Good night," Enji said at her door, lighting another cigarette. "I'll be out here for another few minutes while you go in and get ready for bed. Just to keep an eye on things for a bit."
"Okay. And thank you for dinner and the walk. It was a nice evening."
"Yeah. It was," he agreed, giving her a small, tight smile. "Good night."
Farrah got the distinct impression he was shooing her away, dismissing her quickly for some reason. It was probably for the best before they found themselves in a compromising situation they would both regret.
"Good night, Enji."