10. A Heartfelt Declaration
10
A Heartfelt Declaration
Antonio
I’m not sure how much time has gone by, but after a while, we slowly pull apart until we’re standing there staring at each other rather sheepishly. I gently wipe the remnant of tears from her cheeks as she whispers, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I truly had no idea you were carrying this blame for all this time. It was selfish of me to assume you had all the facts, given how easily you always made yourself available to help us when we called on you.”
“I would have been there regardless, but there was no way for you to know,” I reply softly, my hands moving from her cheeks down over her shoulders and then down her arms until I’m gripping her hands loosely. “You wouldn’t have known that they would use it to torment me. Or that it would have worked so effectively for so long.”
“But I should have,” she replies angrily. “Maybe not at first, but it should have occurred to me at some point.”
I squeeze her hands and shake my head. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. It’s all out in the open where it’s less likely to hurt us.”
She squints at me but then nods. Her gaze drops from mine, and she looks around the room briefly before turning back to me and asking, “What do we do now?”
I sigh heavily, giving her hand one last squeeze before releasing her and turning away. “I guess we get to figure that out as we go.”
I’ve only taken a few steps away when she gasps. “What the fuck happened to your back?”
Fuck.
I turn to face her slowly, my hands coming up in front of me as I reply, “It doesn’t fucking matter.”
She closes the distance between us swiftly, moving around me and gripping both of my arms so I can’t attempt to face her again. I feel her eyes on my back, almost as painful as the old wounds that she’s currently staring at. “What the fuck is this, Antonio?”
“You’ll need to be a little more specific than that,” I finally manage to respond. Her fingertips brush my damaged skin lightly, and still, I flinch. Not because it causes any physical discomfort at this point. If anything, it’s a constant visual reminder of everything I’ve endured.
“Tell me.”
I turn away and walk toward the bed on the other side of the room. “I’m tired, Lilith. I don’t have anything left for more explanations tonight.”
I crawl into the middle of the bed, sprawling on the mattress and closing my eyes, silently hoping she’ll get the hint and leave me be. But I should know better because leaving things be is not the Lilith way. Once she sets her mind to something, once she decides on how to proceed, she’s like a fucking tsunami.
Sure enough, the mattress sinks as she climbs onto the bed beside me, crawling up until her hands are pushing on my shoulder. I give her a dirty look, but after a few good pushes, I relent, rolling over onto my side and facing away from her. She stretches out behind me, at first just lying there silently, but again, I feel her eyes scouring the timeline from my early adulthood almost into middle age. Her fingers press delicately against the middle of my spine, and she quietly asks, “This one?”
I swallow a painful lump in my throat, not wanting to explain but seeing no way out of it. “That was the first time I went looking for you.”
She freezes behind me, her fingertips suddenly pressing into that spot rather forcefully, her voice barely a whisper as she responds, “You went looking for me?”
I nod yet say nothing, knowing no further explanation is really needed, but then she adds, “The first time? You looked for me more than once?”
I nod again and then answer, “Relentlessly. Until the last time when it almost killed me, and my father told me if I ever did it again, he would kill you—slowly.”
Her fingertips touch that spot again, tracing over the numbers as she asks, “When was the first time?”
“It was quite a few years later. Someone finally let it slip that I had a child out in the world, so I sought you out, looking for answers. And to beg for your forgiveness.”
“And what happened?”
“I got caught pretty quickly. And immediately shipped off to a facility. That’s where the brand came in.”
“And how did you escape?”
“Once I’d been there for a suitable amount of time to hopefully teach me a lesson, my father came to retrieve me.”
“Did they try to sell you?”
I laugh, though it comes out bitter and hollow. “No, they just kept me in storage. They knew who I was. They couldn’t do much to me without permission.”
She’s quiet, her hands tracing over the various brands and marks that are a permanent part of me. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I do,” she replies softly. “So much hurt and torm—”
I jerk away from her, swiftly rolling over and effectively cutting off her words. “No, Lilith. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
“I should have done something, anything, to stop it.”
Now, the laugh that falls from my lips is bitter, and I shake my head. “And what would you have done? You had no control over anything. You had barely entered womanhood. How would you have done anything?”
“I could have refused. Refused and taken whatever punishment was coming my way.”
“And then you would have been dead,” I snarl, the mere idea sending rage coursing through me. “And they would have found someone else.”
“Maybe that would be better. Mayb—”
I interrupt what I know she’s going to say by pressing my hand to her mouth. I slide closer to her, leaning in until my face is mere inches from hers as I whisper, “Never. Never say that.”
She pulls my hand away. “But it’s true. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have ever happened.”
I place my hand over her mouth again, glaring at her angrily. “You know that’s not true. And remember, without you, Antoinette and Agatha would not exist.”
She presses her lips together, and I feel them trembling against my palm, so I press, “And then, if nothing else, you have to recognize the likelihood that Antoinette would not have lived without your interference. Without your subtle misdirection and redirection. I know you wish you could’ve done more. I know you certainly wish you could have done more for Agatha, but it’s you managing to do everything you possibly could that allowed them to survive.”
Her eyes are bright, and she blinks a few times and then sniffles, so I ask, “Do you understand, Lilith?”
After a moment, she nods, and I remove my hand from her mouth, cupping her cheek gently. We lie there, staring at each other, the silence oddly comfortable considering all that has been said here tonight. She brings her hand between us, using her index finger to stroke lightly along my forehead. I shut my eyes briefly, allowing her free rein to touch me as she pleases.
“Even given how fucked up the situation was,” she says quietly. “It’s still a relief that you were the first one. Being the monster was better than being faced with a monster.”
My eyes open, and I force myself to remain relaxed, wanting her to feel comfortable speaking to me about whatever is on her mind. She pauses, looking at my face while appearing to look straight through me, so I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”
She blinks a few times, and then her eyes meet mine as she shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“You can. Even if I find something upsetting, I won’t be angry or take my upset out on you.”
She smiles faintly, the corners of her eyes wrinkling slightly, and that warm feeling of familiarity rolls over me. That same warm feeling I’ve carried with me for decades, buried deep beneath the rage, hurt, and confusion.
She’s still staring at me, a tinge of humor on her face, and I feel like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her look even remotely peaceful. Emotion jackknifes in my chest, and I open my mouth, fully intending to make a joke, but instead, I whisper, “I love you, you know.”
I cough as soon as the words are out, and her eyes widen comically, and then she shakes her head until, once again, I move my hand over her mouth so she can’t argue with me over how I feel. “Don’t fucking say anything. I don’t want to hear your arguments, denials, and the laundry list of reasons why those words could possibly not be true.”
I stop speaking and stare at her, waiting for her to confirm that she understands what I’m saying. When she gives a slight nod, I remove my hand from her mouth and then continue, “If this deep ache I’ve been carrying in my chest for decades isn’t love, then I don’t know what it is. And I know you’ll say I don’t actually know you, but I can assure you that I know more about you than you think. To the outside world, you’re the unhinged, maniacal queen of ultimate retribution. But upon closer observation, it’s obvious you’re so much more than that. You’ve been labeled as cold-hearted, a woman who likes nothing more than to reap bloody havoc across the world. But you never do so without cause. You’re not out there taking advantage of innocent people; you’re not reaping the rewards of standing on the backs of those who can’t fight back. You’ve learned that sometimes, the only way to rid the world of bad people is to eliminate them permanently, and you’re not afraid to do the dirty work.”
She raises a brow at me and laughs. “I’m not fucking Robin Hood, Antonio.”
I smile, relieved she’s not going to openly fight me on my random declaration. “Only if Robin Hood was an avenging angel.”
This time, she laughs outright and then shakes her head. “An angel? Really?”
I laugh even more loudly, embracing the moment of lighthearted euphoria that rushes over me. And then, suddenly, it’s like the years haven’t gone by. Like we’re two young people caught up on the edge of a lovers’ embrace.
The smile slowly fades, her expression turning serious as she asks, “What if it’s too late?”
“It’s never too late.”
“I never took you for an optimist.”
“I’m fucking not. But I’ve waited decades to be in the position that I’m in now, and I’ll be fucking damned if I don’t snatch it up and never let go.”
She frowns slightly, her hands tucking in over her chest like she’s protecting herself. “What if I can’t love you?”
A jagged edge of pain cuts through the euphoria. I flinch slightly, and her frown deepens. Sighing deeply, I move closer, wedging an arm beneath her head as I pull her into my embrace. She comes willingly, and when her head is pillowed near my shoulder, her face pressed up against my neck, I lean my head down near her ear and whisper, “Then I’ll just have to love us enough for both of us.”