Chapter 26
twenty-six
Harper
STRAWBERRY TEARS.
The city was bright and busy and so far away, colors that blurred, swirled, blinked, and pulsed on the other side of the glass.
Reflections danced over my ceiling, amplified in the darkness I kept myself in.
Even the bright yellow blanket around my shoulders had its color swallowed by shadows. Muted to monochrome.
Aurelia explored the soft fur. She’d always loved getting into my clothing and fabric, and the blanket seemed to please her.
It pleased me too. A warmth deeper than its temperature held me like a hug.
It felt like care. Matthew had picked this for me, and of all the gifts and items I’d ever received—and there were a lot—this one was undoubtedly my favorite.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Matthew
What would you like for dinner?
He’d asked the same question for breakfast and lunch today as well.
Our talk last night had amplified his stubborn need to look after me.
I knew then, of course, that if I didn’t reply, he’d simply bring me more options than any normal person could eat in one sitting.
He’d done it in the office today and hadn’t left the room until he’d seen me eat some of it.
It had tasted good. It sat heavy in my stomach, even though I knew logically my body would have digested it hours ago.
I’d gotten used to feeling my stomach twist and cramp.
It hurt. But when the feeling in my body matched the feeling in my soul—angry and hollow—it just seemed right.
It was slowly returning. And while I’d appeased Matthew over lunch, the thought of eating again tonight made the nausea increase past what hunger would do to me.
Strawberry tea.
That was another thing I tolerated. Bitter sweet. It tasted of pain and comfort mixed together, my mind linking it to the emotions I’d held when visiting Dex months ago.
He texted me sometimes. He didn’t even have anything he wanted from me or needed to say. I rarely replied.
Matthew
That isn’t dinner.
I rolled my eyes and tucked my phone back into the gap between my bent legs and the leather armchair. Then I went back to watching the lights.
I zoned out, letting time pass with little awareness. I might have been sitting there minutes or hours—it was difficult to tell—when I heard the elevator ding in the living room.
I had no doubt it was Matthew. He’d probably ordered enough food for a small family when I’d refused to respond to him further.
With a sigh, I collected Aurelia and took her back to her tank. Then I pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders and went to confront Matthew.
Only it wasn’t Matthew who was standing there, in my kitchen, with a box of strawberry tea in his hand and deep brown eyes that examined the room before coming to land on me.
My body burned and froze in the same moment. Was I dreaming? I had to be. How else would Benny be standing in my apartment?
The blanket slipped from my shoulders to pool at my feet.
Heat fought its way up my chest, my throat, settled behind my eyes. Threatening to spill. I held it back. It took every ounce of willpower and energy, but I wouldn’t let myself break again, not if he were truly here to see it.
We both stared.
The box of tea dropped to the marble floor and Benny made his way over to me in the space of a few heartbeats.
I had to put my shields up. I had to guard myself.
A warm hand cupped my cheek. Wet brown eyes took me in.
“What’s happened to you?”
His voice was a balm to my soul.
My walls fell to join the blanket at my feet.
He saw me. The rotten, ugly, sick thing I’d become. He could see it.
I didn’t want him to see it. I didn’t want him to touch me and taint himself.
I stepped backward. He followed. Again. He refused to let me out of arm’s reach. I retreated until my back touched the wall and he stood in front of me, blocking any further weak attempts at escape.
“Go away,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “No. Not this time.”
“I don’t want you here.” The lie absorbed more of the little strength I had remaining, and without it I could no longer hold back the tears.
Warm thumbs gently smoothed them away. “You’re lyin’.”
I shook my head. I had to protect him from me. Even if his presence here had ripped the scabs from the wounds that losing him once had left on me.
He nodded. “You are. Just like you were when you ran off last time. I should have chased after you.”
What would my life look like now if he’d chased after me that day? What if I hadn’t tried to run in the first place?
I shook my head again.
“I won’t let you go again.”
“You have to.” My voice was incapable of escaping me any louder than a whisper.
“No.” He sniffed.
“Benny.”
“Harper.”
So he’d found my name too.
“You don’t understand,” I pleaded.
“So explain it to me.”
“This… I… I can’t.”
“Why?”
There were so many reasons. Reasons I couldn’t put into words, because they hurt too much. Because the way he looked at me would change. Because he’d leave, and I needed to be the one to end this, so I could pretend it was my choice.
I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge.
“No. Not this time.” He stepped in closer. “No more lyin’, no more pushin’ me away, and no more runnin’.”
“Go away.” I choked on the words, because I didn’t have the strength to say or do anything else.
“I would, if I believed you really wanted me to.”
“I do.”
“Then you’re lyin’ to yourself too.”
Of course I was. I had to.
My throat tightened until I couldn’t breathe. I needed him to leave. Now. Because if he didn’t then I wasn’t strong enough to fight this anymore. I wasn’t strong enough to resist him.
If he wouldn’t believe my lies, then I’d scare him away with the truth.
“I hurt someone.” I swallowed. My eyes locked onto his, because I needed to see the disgust when I told him what I’d done, so I could let that image burn into my brain and stop me from ever reaching for him again. “I killed someone.” My voice was oddly calm as I braced for his reaction.
His brow twitched, eyes looking between mine, trying to determine if I was lying again. He inhaled deeply, yet there was still no fear or disgust in his expression. “Okay.”
Okay? That was all he had to say?
“I’m serious. I killed someone the night I left you.”
Benny just stared, his mind processing. Then understanding dawned. He exhaled. “Tristan.”
I flinched at the name.
A large, warm hand caressed my shoulder so gently it stung. “What did he do to you?”
My vision blurred. Tears he swiped away before they had a chance to streak down my cheeks.
My mouth opened. Closed. Searching for words that refused to come to me. My silence seemed to answer his question, though. His soft expression morphed into rage. His jaw ticked. His teeth clenched. The hand that wasn’t resting so gently on my shoulder tightened into a fist.
It seemed to pain him to keep it inside and not unleash it, but he managed. He tried to speak. It took a couple of attempts before the words finally came out. “If I had… if I’d just chased after you… then I could have done it. So you wouldn’t have to carry the weight of it.”
My brow pinched. What did he mean by that? “You would have…”
He nodded. “For you I’d do anythin’.”
I shook my head frantically. I must have misunderstood him, or he’d misunderstood me.
“I’m a murderer, Benny!”
“I know. So what.”
I made a strangled sound as everything inside me tried to burst out and reach for him. Cling to him.
You can’t have him.
Fingertips trailed down my arm until he reached my hand. Slowly, he lifted it to his lips to kiss along my knuckles.
“How can you still want me?” I asked, desperate to understand.
Benny huffed. “Want doesn’t begin to cover it. I need you, more than I’ve ever needed anyone. I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again. I’ll stay here, by your side, and worship you like you deserve.”
“I’m a murderer,” I repeated.
Benny nodded. “Most gods are murderers too. Their priests still worship them. Why should my devotion be any different?”
“I’m not a god.”
“I’ll worship you anyway.”
He reached for my other hand, bringing that to his mouth to kiss as well, as if my hands were holy instead of tainted.
“No one’s gonna hurt you ever again. I’ll worship you more than a priest to his god.
You’re my prince. I’ll be your knight when you need protection, your soldier when you need to fight, your clown when you need to laugh, your chef when you need to eat, your dog, your submissive, your willing slave. I’ll be everythin’ you need me to be.”
My legs gave out. I dropped to the ground, his words having stolen the fear, the grief, and the rage that had sustained me these last months. Without it, I didn’t know how to be.
Benny stepped away, and my heart seized in panic. He picked up my blanket from where I’d dropped it on the floor, brought it to me, and wrapped it securely around my shoulders.
Then he was lifting me up. Rather than feeling weak as I’d have suspected I would being carried like a child, I felt protected. Treasured.
He brought me to the kitchen, sat me on the bench top, and then went to look through my fridge and pantry.
I didn’t question him. I didn’t talk. I knew I’d have to eventually, that there was much more we needed to discuss, but for now, I just existed here with him.
His thigh brushed against my knee as he cooked, his warmth seeping through his clothes and into mine.
My stomach twisted at the scent of food, but for the first time in months, it didn’t repulse me.
He started to hum softly. And that was the thing that finally broke me. The sound of him brought more life to this apartment than it had ever held before.
Even as he set the pan to the side and warm fingers traced the back of my neck, guiding my head to rest against him, he still hummed.
One hand combed through my hair, while the other rubbed slow circles on my back. He didn’t try to make me stop or move away from me before I was done. He just held me for as long as I needed, letting me feel what I’d fought against feeling until I ran out of tears.
Then he kissed the top of my head and went back to cooking.
When he was done, he opened the cupboards until he found the bowls.
Then he was standing between my legs, holding a big bowl of gnocchi. He stabbed some with the fork and brought it to my mouth.
I was well capable of feeding myself, yet I found myself parting my lips and letting him feed me.
It tasted so good.
My eyes prickled, but I was all out of tears for one night.
Benny alternated between feeding himself and feeding me, until the bowl was empty. He put it to the side.
Warm hands trailed up my thighs as he leaned forward, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips. Closer. Until they almost connected, and he waited there for me.
You can’t have him.
My father’s voice in my mind.
But I want him.
I need him.
He’s mine.
My lips connected with his in a kiss that was slow and gentle. It tasted like comfort. Like home.
Then he picked me up and moved me next to the sink, so he could be only inches away from me as he did the dishes.
Maybe I wasn’t allowed to have him, but this was bigger than me. It was bigger than my father and his rules. It was bigger than the consequences.
Because as I watched him do something so ordinary as washing the dishes while he hummed, I knew in my core that I wanted the chance to experience this every day for the rest of my life.
I wanted to be able to sit beside him and absorb his warmth. His color. His music. I wanted to keep him more than I’d ever wanted anything.
You can’t have him. Maybe. But I knew now that I was going to anyway.
When the dishes were clean, he was lifting me again, carrying me down the hallway until he found my bedroom.
He laid me on the bed, unbuttoned my shirt and pants, and removed them with gentle hands until I was in only my boxers. Then he did the same for himself.
His skin was so warm. So perfect. It both burned and healed me as he lay beside me, then pulled me over him so my face was resting on the beating pillow of his chest. He pulled the yellow blanket over us both, and he kissed the top of my head.
I was so tired.
His fingers traced patterns over my back and sides, the lullaby of his heart a hypnotic rhythm that pulled me into a warm darkness where, for the first time, I wasn’t alone.
I didn’t need to stare at the lights on my ceiling for hours, waiting for exhaustion to accept or deny me, because this time, sleep gently pulled me under within minutes.