35
ANNA
I’m used to waking up to a bright room, so when I pry my bleary eyes open, the darkness is a relief.
Quietly sighing, I stretch a little but stop as Sylas stirs behind me. His warm, naked front is pressed to my back, and an arm is draped over my stomach.
Falling asleep in his room wasn’t the plan, but neither was sleeping with him. I arrived at his condo and told myself I’d wait until he got home to talk to him. What I didn’t anticipate was for him to arrive a few minutes after I had.
The moment I looked at him, everything I wanted to tell him slipped my mind. All I wanted was to have his lips on mine, and then I did and the world became nonexistent.
We still need to talk, but I need to get out before the girls wake up. Since it’s Sunday, Maya will not be watching Rosie today.
I gingerly lift the duvet off me then grab his wrist and go to move it, but his arm tightens around me.
“You’re not really trying to sneak out of here, are you?” I’d forgotten how much I missed the gruffness in his sleepy, accented voice. I’m a puddle.
I smile tiredly, letting him hold me in place. “I need to go before they wake up.”
“Just a few more minutes.” He kisses my shoulder, idly drifting the pads of his fingers on my stomach. “Please.”
I shiver and my eyes flutter shut. I want to stay—my body screams from exhaustion and the need to be next to him—but I know I can’t.
“I have to go. Rosie will be up soon; that is, if she isn’t already.” I sit up against the headboard, letting the duvet slip down.
He yawns and follows suit, sitting next to me. I can’t see him well due to how dark it is, and I wonder if it’s still too early. But then he grabs his phone, and despite my blurry vision, I catch the time on the screen.
My eyes bulge and I’m jumping out of bed. It’s nine in the morning. Rosie will be well and truly up. She’s usually awake around seven.
“We overslept. Fuck.” I’m patting my hands blindly for my clothes when Sylas presses a button and the shades lift.
I look for my dress, thong, and heels, but they’re nowhere to be found.
I don’t know when he cleaned up the mess, but there’s not a trace of last night’s activities, just me naked in his room. “Where’s my stuff?”
Sleepy green eyes rake over my figure. When he first saw me, I felt a tiny morsel of insecurity, but right now, I feel everything but that. He doesn’t just look at me with hunger, but with such tenderness it makes my heart race.
“Sylas.” I snap my fingers, forcing his attention to my face. “My stuff?”
“You can’t wear your dress. It’s in the trash. Hold on.” He’s up and enters his closet.
My jaw falls slack. “You’re kidding, right?”
He comes back out with a T-shirt in his hand. “No, it had cum all over it, and I ripped it, remember?”
“You had no right to do that. I spent a lot of money on that. I could have gotten it fixed.” I narrow my eyes, but it does nothing for my shit vision.
“I’ll give you the money.” He stands in front of me, handing me the shirt. “Wear this.”
“No, I—”
“You’ll argue. I’ll counter it. We’ll go back and forth, and you’ll still have to wear my shirt because you have nothing else. Please put on my shirt.” Sylas doesn’t wait for my reply; he tugs it over my head and body. “You always did look better in my clothes.”
My face warms as I’m flooded with memories of the many times he’d say that to me.
Slipping my hands through the sleeves, I pull my hair out. It’s either I take it or walk out naked. I don’t want to argue. I’m done arguing.
“Thanks. I need to go get Rosie.” I walk backward, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me to his chest. “Sy—”
“I’m not letting you go again.” He cups my jaw, and his thumb strokes my cheek. “I can’t lose you. Please tell me you don’t regret last night, that we’re going to talk about us.” Trepidation crosses his features, and I can almost feel the heaviness of his pulse in the pad of his finger.
“After everything I let you do to me, you really think I regret last night?” I smile at him. His eyes soften, and his stiff hand relaxes. “I promise we’ll talk, Sy.”
He lights up. I can’t remember the last time I saw him look so at peace. The green in his eyes is airy and translucent, and his dimples indent his cheeks.
Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss on my forehead. “It’s taking everything in me to let you go.”
“I need to get our daughter, remember?”
“Right, yeah.” He chuckles and glances down at his naked body. “I’ll put something on and be out there in a sec.”
He kisses my forehead again, holding on to me before I finally slip from his grasp and leave his room.
I quietly walk to the other side of the condo and into my bedroom, and as I’m changing and brushing my teeth, I realize something.
My room is bigger than his. I’m still thinking about it as I knock on Maya’s door.
But then I’m thinking about how quiet it is, and how the girls would have already been out in the living room.
“Maya? Rosie?” I call their names as I open the door, but it’s dead silent. I almost wonder if they’re hiding, but something tells me they’re not. I immediately call Maya’s phone and head out to the living room. “Hey, where are you?”
“I know you slept in his room,” she answers knowingly.
I stop pacing. “What?”
“You slept in Sylas’s room last night. I know because I saw your stuff on the island and you weren’t in your room. I also heard you guys.” She lets out a disgruntled groan. “Dios mio, Anna. I don’t know what’s more traumatizing. Hearing our neighbor or my little sister.”
“Oh.” My face burns. I bite the inside of my cheek, contemplating what to say. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up…”
“You definitely weren’t sorry last night.” I hear the smirk in her voice. “You didn’t wake me. I was already up, but don’t worry, I put my headphones on. Otherwise, I would have lost my shit.”
Sylas enters the living room, wearing the brightest smile on his face.
I turn, not able to meet his stare. “Where are you? It’s Sunday, remember? You don’t take care of Rosie.”
“We’re going to grab breakfast with Clementine and then head to the—”
“Maya, it’s okay. You don’t—”
“—park, and we’ll be out for as long as we need to be.” Her voice is full of understanding. “Take your time. Whatever you decide to do, I support it. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
I’m a grown adult. I know I can do whatever I want, but…I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear my big sister utter those words. I always craved this—having a relationship with her. I don’t expect us to always agree and to never fight, but I need her in my life. I want her in my life.
I clear my throat, scrunching my nose as it stings, but it doesn’t help when Sylas stands in front of me. “You sure?”
“Take your time and don’t worry about Rosie. We’ve got her.”
“Thanks, Maya.” Sylas’s gaze collides with mine. My stomach tumbles, and my heart clamors. When I hang up, he stands on alert.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s time we talked.” I flash him a reassuring smile.
“Bagels and coffee on the terrace?” he asks, evoking memories of our early morning routine. Just like old times.
“Yeah, do you have—”
“Guava and fig jam? Yeah, I bought them just in case.”
I was adamant I was done with Sylas. I kept telling myself I was better without him. In spite of how many times I’d repeat that in my head, my heart was screaming otherwise.
After I left him at Neptune, every part of me was begging to be next to him. But I fought it. I didn’t search for him in the crowd. I told myself I needed time, that it was normal I was struggling to move on because I hadn’t been with anyone since Sylas.
I was stupid to believe I needed to be with other men. Really idiotic of me to think that’s how I’d move on because even with how charming and fun Jackson had been, every neuron in my body was on fire for Sylas.
We sit side by side on the sofa, eating our bagels and drinking our coffees. The mornings have become cooler, but the sun is out on the terrace, making up for the chill.
“I’m scared,” I admit, brushing my bangs away. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. The lump in my throat is too big, making it hard to get the words out.
He takes my hand in his, easing my discomfort and the need to hide my insecurities. I don’t like being vulnerable, crying, or having to open up. The last time I did that he left.
“Please don’t be.” Remorse veils his face as he runs the pad of his thumb along my knuckles.
“I don’t want to be but…” I swallow past the knot. “And I hate to sound like a broken record, but I can’t stop thinking of you leaving.” I trap my lip between my lips. “I can’t do that again. I can’t watch you walk away. I’m scared to lose you.”
Fear rushes through my veins, sending a chill down my spine.
His hold on my hand tightens, and a confident gleam shines in his eyes. “That’s not going to happen. I promise. I’m not going anywhere because where you and Rosie are, that’s where I’ll be, Anna.”
I know he means it, but there’s this voice in my head that whispers to tread carefully. “I want to make this work. As obnoxious as you are, there’s no one else I want to be with. So, please don’t make me regret this.”
A little smile plays on his face as he tugs me closer to him, holding my hand close to his heart.
“My biggest mistake was letting you go. I told myself if I ever got to see you again, I’d work my ass off to earn your trust, to win you over.
And now that you’re here, I don’t intend to ever let you go.
I will spend the rest of my life doing whatever I can to prove to you that I deserve you. ”
My chest expands as my heart bolts, desperate to be next to his. “I want you to trust me.”
“I do trust you.” I hear the slight defensiveness in his voice.
“I want you to talk to me about how you feel.” I switch the positions of our hands so now I’m swiping my thumb over his knuckles. I note how his palm gets damp, but I don’t point it out. “I love to hear about your good days, but you can share the bad ones with me too.”
That had always been an issue in our relationship. It felt as though he was embarrassed to talk about his feelings, never sharing the “bad stuff.” Instead, he’d get on the ice or work out until fatigue wore him down.
“We can’t make this work if you don’t talk to me. When I was here at the beginning of the month, you pretended like it was all fine when we knew it wasn’t. I don’t like seeing you like that.”
“Um.” His throat bobs, shame evident on his face. “I just…don’t want you to worry.”
I bottle my frustration, doing my best to understand him.
“You could tell me not to worry a million times and I still would. Being in a relationship is about talking, sharing, being there for one another. If I can’t be there for you at your worst, why would you want me there at your best?
I don’t want you to hide yourself from me. Show me who you really are.”
He’s silent, pondering my words. Then he looks at me and I see whatever he’s holding on to slowly crumble, and the wall that had always been set between us collapses.
“All my life it’s always been ‘smile, the cameras are looking’ or ‘there is nothing wrong with you. If you work harder, you wouldn’t feel this way.
’ So it’s easier to shut up, smile, and do what I need to do to win,” he says, his expression blank.
“It’s not easy to talk about this because I never thought I needed to.
It feels strange to complain when I’ve had it all for most of my life. ” His hands slightly tremble.
I shift closer to him, placing my free hand on his thigh. I rub it, and it slowly eases the crease between his brows. His fraught eyes shift to the table in front of us, skimming it for something.
“Do you need to smoke?”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t…” He sounds ashamed. “I’m trying to stop. I don’t want Rosie or you to have to smell it on me. It’s just been a work in progress.”
“She’s not here,” I offer.
His head jerks, taken aback. “Are you implying that I should smoke? You hate everything about it.”
“I know.” I sigh, smiling a little at him.
“I don’t want you to feel like you need to stop for us.
Do it because it’s something you know you want to do.
If you do it now or not, I’m not going anywhere.
I just want you to know I’m here and I’m not going to judge you.
Just please never smoke in front or around Rosie. Secondhand smoke is serious.”
“No, I would never. I promise.” His hands shake a little less. “So…no?”
I squeeze his hand reassuringly then slip inside, heading straight to the kitchen where I know he’s hiding the box and lighter.
When I come back out, I drop down in the same spot and hand it to him.
“I won’t be mad. I don’t want you to feel anxious.
I know it’s not easy for you to talk about these things. ”
He pats the box on his palm, eyeing it like it’s everything he wants and hates.
“The smell doesn’t bother me too much. I worked at a bar for a while after I had Rosie. That’s actually how I met Clementine.” I chuckle at the memory. “She didn’t do it often, but when we were on our break and it was a stressful night…Anyway, I’ve grown used to it, and I might have tried it once.”
Sylas’s eyes go round, but there’s no judgment when he asks, “Are you serious? Why?”
I shrug. “Because it made me think of you. Made me wonder what was so good about it that made you need it. So I thought, why not?”
“I’m sorry.” He sounds contrite, as if he’d been the one to force me.
“Don’t be. I was curious, but that first time—” I grimace, shaking my head. “I don’t know how you continued.”
Sylas chuckles under his breath. “Stress made it bearable.” He sobers up, clearing his throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak, that I can’t control myself—”
“I’ve never thought that. You’re human and for so long you have been in the spotlight, scrutinized by the media and your parents. Who wouldn’t be stressed over that?”
Relief washes over him, and whatever he’d been repressing visible fades. Just when I think he’s going to smoke, he tosses the box and lighter on the table.
“I thought I lost you forever.” Sylas wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his body.
“You didn’t. You won’t.” I return the hug, cupping the back of his head, softly raking his hair. “But we need to take things slow. Is that okay?”
I trust him, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous.
“Anna, meu bem, we can go as slow as you’d like. I just want you in my life again. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”
“We’re going to figure this out, okay?”
He nestles his face in the crook of my neck and breathes me in. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to hear this. I promise you won’t regret it.”