He groans in the crook of my neck and the vibrations travel from his warm breath there all the way down to the most forbidden places.
“I accept your gift of cuffs then,” he says, lifting his gaze to meet mine in the mirror and we share a devilish simper between us. I can get lost in him and he can get lost in me. Together we’ll heal each other. That’s the only hope I’m holding on to. Everything else can fade away and burn for all I care.
Well, almost everything else. We still have our family.
“Have you thought about my question?”
“If I’m willing to go with you?”
“If you don’t come with me, I don’t know that I can leave. I don’t know what will happen to you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself not knowing.”
“How long will we be gone?”
“Not long. We’ll keep your place; we’ll visit. I never could go long without seeing my brother.”
“Do you think he’ll stay?” I ask him in all seriousness.
“I don’t know, I haven’t heard from him.”
“You reached out?”
“I did. I apologized.” The ever-present knife in my chest twists at the knowledge that Cody didn’t respond to Christopher. One day I hope the two of them will be all right. One day they’ll work together and be side by side.
“I’m sorry.”
He kisses my cheek quickly and then stands up straight behind me, his fingers trailing down my arm ever so gently. “It’s not your fault,” he tells me but that doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry.
I know his secrets. I know his pain. Even if I’ve never felt it like he has on his skin, I feel it in my soul. It’s etched in the crevices of my bones.
He doesn’t have to whisper them. They’re written in his piercing eyes, the shards of light blue reflecting the agony of years of pain.
“I see you for who you are. And I love you. You love me?”
“Of course I do. I’ve always loved you.”
Delilah
Ten months later
His gaze is sharp; he has the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. As I freeze where I’m standing in the middle of the aisle, the faint noise of dull music mixed with the sound of carts rolling by fades into the background. It all blurs together in aisle four of the grocery store as my grip on the loaf of bread I’m holding turns so clammy that the plastic slips.
The pitter-patter of my racing heart and my blood rushing in my ears is all I can hear.
Nothing else matters. I can feel his eyes on me. Every time I blink, I see them, surrounded by shadows.
I take my time, placing the items from my cart back on the shelves with trembling fingers. There are only four things seeing as how I just got here, a bag of rice being the first item to go back on the bottom shelf before I slowly and meticulously roll my cart to the end of the only aisle I’ve been down.
It’s chilling, the fear that rolls down my spine knowing he’s watching me. Feeling him again. Is it fear, though? My heart beats wildly in response to the question, fighting and railing against the decision to act calm. I can’t let anyone know. I just need to get out of here … So we can be alone.
My heart isn’t afraid, not like my logical side is. When the shadow is just barely seen, tall and foreboding, my stomach drops and my heart flips with recognition. It’s an undeniable feeling when you miss someone you know you shouldn’t. I try to focus on the sound of wheels squeaking against the linoleum floor and the noisy clang of metal from carts being lined up in order to help ground me.
“Do you need any help?” The question comes from a young man in a red vest that barely hides the nondescript black logo on his white shirt beneath it. I recognize him; I’ve seen him a number of times in this grocery store. I’m certain he’s rung me up a handful of times since I returned here a month ago.
How did I think I could move back, even if the house is on the outskirts in the middle of nowhere, and he wouldn’t find me? How could I be so foolish to think he wouldn’t come for me?
A sinking feeling in my chest moves my hand there, and the paper list in my hand crinkles as I do. I’d forgotten all about it and as I gaze down at the blurred pen lines and wrinkled paper, I do my best to school my expression.
“Oh, no,” I say and my throat is too tight as I speak. I close my eyes, forcing a simple smile to my lips and clear my throat. “I just realized something,” I answer, finally looking the young man in his deep brown eyes. “I have a call in ten minutes and I’m going to take it in my car then come back,” I lie, that smile staying in place although everything in my body wants me to run. Run from here, get far away from other people.