Second (Betrothed 6)

He moved to the seat beside me on the bench, his arm sliding over the back and automatically wrapping around my body. His strong hand gripped my arm, and once he made contact, his cologne came over me, the exact smell that used to be on his sheets and my clothes. His face moved close to mine, holding me like we were still lovers. “Annabella, what’s going on?” His voice was quiet so the doctors and nurses who passed in the hallway couldn’t overhear us. His fingers dug into the fabric of my coat, and even though it was just one in the afternoon, his breath smelled of scotch. And he called me Annabella…as if nothing had changed in the last few months.

“Sofia has been in there for a while. Hades just went in. I don’t have any news…”

He sighed in disappointment before his hand slipped into my hair, his fingers pulling back the strands from my face. It was the same touch he used to give me, and I was transported back in time. I pictured my old apartment, the empty pizza box on the edge of the bed, and his clothes on the floor. Instead of questioning me about my tears, he stared at me hard, his eyes looking into mine like we were making love. He came to the conclusion all on his own because he knew me so well. “I’m so sorry, Annabella.” He turned my face into his, and he placed his forehead against mine.

It felt so right that I didn’t pull away. I closed my eyes and let him comfort me, let him carry the burden of the past with me. My fingers wrapped around his wrist, and I held on with shaky breaths, feeling so much emotion from so little. Everything about him calmed me, made me think of deep rivers, of the ocean tide as it crashed onto the shore. I thought of low fires burning in the hearth that were hungry for the next log. I thought of the softest sheets that brushed against my skin when I scooted closer to him in the middle of the night.

“Their son will be alright.”

I opened my eyes and pulled back slightly to look at him. “How do you know it’s a boy?”

His hand slid to the back of my neck, releasing my hair. “Just do.”

“And how do you know everything will be alright?”

He was quiet again. “I just do.” His thumb moved to my cheek, and he wiped away a tear that still clung to my skin. Then he did the other side, keeping his eyes on me. “I’m sure it’s not life-threatening. Easily treatable.”

I wanted to fall into those false promises and never leave.

He continued to wipe away my tears until my cheeks were clean and dry. He seemed to realize he’d crossed the line with his affection, so he pulled his touch away and scooted slightly to the left, leaving a few inches between us.

I didn’t want him to move.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands together. When someone walked by, he casually lifted his gaze to glance at the person as they passed. His sleeves were slightly pulled back to reveal his watch. His slacks were also pulled up, showing his black socks underneath.

Ugh, he was so hot.

I crossed my legs and looked away, doing my best not to stare. Then we sat in silence, both pretending that we hadn’t just collided like two trains.

After fifteen minutes passed, he straightened and leaned against the back of the bench. He crossed one ankle onto the opposite knee, his hands folded together in his lap.

“You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I’m not.” He adjusted his sleeve under his jacket and continued to look ahead. “I want to make sure Sofia is okay.”

“You don’t need to get back to the office?”

He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about the office.”

Just like that, he squeezed my heart again. He was loyal to the people he loved.

We returned to silence once more.

He was the one person in the world who affected me this deeply, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. Words were gone because I didn’t know how to connect with the man I had connected with so intensely in the past. But maybe that was the reason why…because I didn’t want some of him, but all of him.

“Did you change Liam’s mind?”

I turned to him, unsure what he was referring to.

“Fighting.”

“Oh…” It was weird to think about Liam when I was with Damien. “He said no.”

He pulled back his sleeve and looked at the time. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve been in the fighting game a long time, and serious injuries rarely happen. Fighters respect one another’s longevity. It’s a sport, not a massacre.”