Chapter 21 - Em #3
Darius sits on the far end, his posture rigid and his expression fixed in its usual displeasure.
Idris, on the other hand, carries the table effortlessly and excuses his brother’s behavior by mentioning how much Darius must miss his newborn son, whom he’s had to be away from since February.
Darius doesn’t say anything about the matter, simply keeping to himself as he eats.
During the otherwise lively lunch, Idris matches Kaye’s clever comebacks, tossing back clever observations of his own that easily earn laughter from many of us. He also pivots seamlessly when Stan cuts in with something vulgar enough to make half the table groan.
“Will you ever grow up?” Damon asks, scowling at his youngest brother.
Stan grins, unbothered. “Sure I will, the day you get that stick outta your ass.”
Sterling snorts, nearly silent, while he feeds Elle a spoonful of soup she can only manage to keep down this afternoon.
Lix sits at my right. He keeps an eye on my plate. When he leans in to do it, his hand finds my thigh beneath the table, a brief pat that lines heat along my leg.
On my left, Stan’s large arm rests comfortably over my shoulders, a bit heavy but too warm and comforting to tell him to remove it. He talks loudly, gesturing with his free hand.
Across the table, Idris watches me. His smile appears appreciative. My cheeks heat up despite my best effort to remain composed.
The attention comes from all sides, yet no one comments on it.
The conversation flows as if this configuration is plainly allowed, as if this level of closeness between four people among others is ordinary.
At the thought, I find myself smiling, listening rather than speaking, and letting the moment carry me, instead of me needing to control it.
After lunch, Damon takes most of the men to his study for some whiskey. Sterling doesn’t join them in favor of caring for Elle while she’s experiencing some discomfort.
Kaye climbs on Damon’s back, demanding to be part of what she calls “boys’ time but sober for me and the twins I’m carrying.”
Damon is smirking and doesn’t seem to have the wherewithal to convince her otherwise.
Lix, Stan, and Idris check on me in their own ways before I wave them off, to show them I’ll be alright without them needing to attend to me.
“You don’t wanna join, Em?” Kaye asks.
“I’m feeling fatigued after such a heavy meal,” I explain.
Kaye frowns a bit but nods. “Okay, you boys have fun. I’m not leaving my new bestie behind.”
She loops her arm through mine as we leave the dining room, while the others head the other direction.
She’s wobbling a little, so I help her walk. Her hand rests on her rounded middle as we reach my door and she follows me inside.
But then her phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket and answers it, talking to the other end for a while. I can’t follow as fast as they’re talking.
Kaye covers the receiver with her hand. “It’s my mom,” she whispers. “She wants to check on me. Kinda love that she does this ‘cause we get to bond over pregnancy problems together.”
She steps in and hugs me quickly.
“I’ll let you rest in here, Em. Sorry, I couldn’t keep you company.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
Kaye smiles at that. “God, you have no idea how much that means to me,” she says. “Seriously, Em. Thank you, and rest up, ‘kay?”
She releases me, lifting the phone back to her ear as she turns toward the door.
“Oh, wait!” Her feet halt. “I left some sleepwear for you in your drawer. Thought you might like the ones that definitely don’t fit over this big bump of mine.”
Patting her middle, she grins and resumes the conversation with her mother over the phone.
The door closes slowly, leaving me alone in the quiet of my room.
After a while, I change into the clothes she mentioned, easing the silk slip into place. The fabric is cool against my skin as I step into the bathroom that connects my room to the adjoining one.
To Lix and Stan’s room. Where so many instances have come to pass.
The memories of our intimate moments cause heat to rise straight to my head, as images of them being together—and being with me—fill my mind the way their warmth does.
Nearly overwhelming, yet undeniably always leaving me satisfied beyond my wildest dreams.
I stop in front of the mirror over the sink.
The nightgown should hang looser on me than it does. I saw the size on the tag, and usually, this sheer short dress should give me more slack. Though, I’ve never worn silk, so maybe this fabric doesn’t breathe as well as others.
The silk follows the lines of my body more closely, gathering at my waist and fitting more snugly across my chest. My breasts sit fuller against the smooth fabric, the neckline not quite forgiving.
Idris wasn’t wrong. I seem to have gotten swollen in parts of my body.
Taking in the subtle changes, I study the fuller softness of my body where there hadn’t been any. It’s unfamiliar but not unpleasant. In fact, the weight I’ve gained appears flattering. Perhaps it’s from eating well the past while, especially with Lix and Stan making sure I always have my fill.
I stand there a second longer, then turn from the mirror, when a knock breaks the quiet. So I cross the room and open the door.
Idris stands there with one shoulder braced against the frame. The faint scent of whiskey reaches me before his smile does. His gaze moves over me slowly and appreciatively, with no attempt to disguise it.
“Well, hello there, Em,” he says, voice lower than it was at lunch earlier. “That’s a dangerous thing to answer the door in.”
“Kaye let me borrow some clothes,” I say, adjusting my glasses. “I was simply trying them on, and I didn’t expect anyone to come into my room…”
He hums, smiling wider, and stepping closer. “I know.” His blue eyes lift to mine. “I’m teasing, Em. Unless you mean to dress up as a present for me, or maybe the two you have wrapped around your lovely fingers?”
I open my mouth, planning to explain. But he lifts a hand, stopping me.
“Em, before we keep talking, I should apologize.” He tips his head downwards. “I had a few shots of whiskey. I hope the scent doesn’t offend you.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
He shuffles his feet, his shoulder brushing the frame before he catches himself.
I step aside. “Sit for a moment, Idris.”
He walks in, lowering himself to the edge of the bed. “Sorry,” he says, his smile turning sheepish. “Thank you.”
He takes my hand and guides me to sit beside him.
“I came here ‘cause I wanted you to know,” Idris whispers, “Lix has his own customized compound too. Adjusted it specifically for his recovery.”
“You did?”
“Of course,” he says. “I wouldn’t overlook that, especially for your experiment. I know how much it matters to you.”
“So I wasn’t the only one you did that for,” I admit, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for thinking I couldn’t trust you, Idris.”
He shrugs lightly. “Em, I completely understand. I should’ve been more up front with you. I’ve never been very good at being completely honest around you. I tend to get tongue-tied.”
I arch a brow. That couldn’t possibly be true. I’ve always known him to be articulate, precise with words in ways I admire.
I’m still trying to reconcile with that when he says, “I might be drunker than I realize.”
My gaze goes to his. Idris is watching me closely, the whiskey-softened blue deeper than usual, making it hard to look away.
“Em, I’ve always wondered…” he whispers. “What do you want most in the world?”
The answer arrives in an instant. “To fix Kys.”
He tries to hold back a laugh. “Em… My sweet, smart Em.” He shakes his head, smiling to himself. “What is it that you want for yourself?”
His phrasing gives me pause. It’s rather direct, aimed deep and far from the big picture I’ve had in my mind for so long. “I…” My thoughts tangle as I reach for something coherent. “It’s not that easy to—”
“Whatever it is—whatever it was, or might be, or will be—I want you to know that you always deserve everything you’ve ever wanted.”
My breath catches. I can’t seem to find words that feel adequate to his. “Idris…”
“Emira,” he whispers. “There are billions of people in this big globe, and it has truly been the biggest blessing—the most miraculous instance—that even for a while, it was me who you chose to warm you during cold nights.” His voice falters.
“And those memories will always stay with me. They’ll always warm me on my coldest nights. ”
His mouth brushes my cheek, then the corner of my lips, soft and careful as he kisses away the heat of my blush.
“I understand I can’t warm your bed as I did before,” he says.
“Not because you have two other men who take care of you now. Heaven knows it takes a village, but I can’t be here for you how I want to be, not when there’s so much work to be done pulling me away.
Even when all I want is to forget everything else and stay at your side for as long as I live. ”
His hand slides down to my abdomen.
“Know that because of you, I get to live a long life.” His voice drops. “I only wish we had more time.”
I open my mouth, confusion pressing forward, ready to ask what he means.
My mind considers that this could merely be a drunken stupor, but I’m rendered speechless, trying to process every word he said as though they repeat in my mind until they can make complete sense.
It doesn’t feel like I’ll reach that logic in time, considering he leans in.
He’s so close that I feel his breath warming my skin. His mouth hovers over mine, the space between us thinning to awareness alone.
Then he stops. His eyes close briefly. His forehead rests near my temple as his breath leaves him in a slow exhale.
When he draws back, his smile is restrained. He straightens up with a silent sigh, looking at me with softened focus. “I’m proud of you, Em,” he says. “You’ve been letting people help you. I know how much that must cost you. After all, pride’s a hard pill to swallow.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Quite a clever wordplay, Idris.”
He laughs. “I really shouldn’t be allowed to use idioms when I’ve been drinking.”
We giggle lightly together while he stands, feet shuffling until he finds his footing.
“I really might just kiss you any moment now, Em, so…” he says, still smiling. “I should speak with them first. Lix and Stan.”
A smile spreads on my face as soon as more warmth does, right through my beating chest, as I watch Idris leave through the door that closes behind him.
I stand, walking over to the dresser, to look for something to pull over this silk nightgown.
Then I hear Idris through the wall. “Oh, look at that. Just the two I was looking for!” Idris calls out from the hall. “Shall we have a chat, boys?”
Biting down my bottom lip, I can’t help but wonder how their talk will go.