Chapter Forty-Eight
My neck is cranked all the way back as I stare up at the absolute monstrosity before me. It’s stunning with its intricate architecture, carvings of angels and cherubs in the smooth limestone, and pillars to match. What I don’t understand is why we’re here at all.
I straighten my neck out, turning to Rafael. “You wanted to take me to… church?” I ask, my head cocked and my snarky tone not even remotely hiding my disbelief.
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not just a church,” he says.
I give the enormous building another quick glance before peering up into his onyx eyes.
I pop my hip out as I say, “Well, yeah, it’s a Catholic church.
Cathedral, whatever. Big whoop. There’s one around nearly every corner.
” My eyes widen as a lightbulb flicks on in my mind.
Okay, it’s more of an opportunity to be a pain in his ass, but same thing.
I snap my fingers and lean into him, dropping my voice an octave as I whisper conspiratorially.
“If this is because of what we did last night, I don’t think even a priest, all the holy water in the world, and confessional could wash away those sins. ”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, gripping my chin and tilting my head back, forcing me to meet his disapproving stare.
“Elise, I’m not taking you for mass or even a confessional, though the Lord literally knows we need it. And it’s a basilica, not a cathedral, not that it matters. Just shut your pretty mouth and wait to find out what the surprise is, okay?”
I smirk up at him as he shifts his hand from my chin to cup my jaw, lowering his voice as he says, “And baby, I don’t have a single fucking interest in washing away a goddamn thing that happened last night. In fact, I think we should do it again, tonight. ”
A shiver trails down my spine as he presses a firm kiss to my lips, dropping his hand and resting it at the base of my spine, ushering me up the slippery marble steps.
My trainers make a squeaking sound as we walk up to the tiny reception desk covered in rosaries hanging off of jewellery racks. A thin man stands behind the desk, nodding as we approach. “What can I do for you?” he asks, a thick Kent accent lacing his words.
“Two tickets to the top,” Rafael whispers, not wanting to disrupt the nearly three hundred people sitting in the wooden pews, listening to the morning service. I didn’t even know churches had services on Fridays.
The man collects his payment and points over to a thick pillar with an open archway that’s about four feet tall. “You can enter from there.”
Rafael thanks the man, taking my hand in his and leading us toward the small alcove.
My heart starts to speed up as we step inside the tight space, and Rafael grips my hand firmly in his.
He takes the first few steps up the winding brick stairs, and very reluctantly, I follow him.
The space is so tight, if my tits were any bigger, I might not fit in here at all.
And these tiny stairs are barely big enough to place the top half of my foot on.
“Why are we doing this, exactly?” I ask, following behind him, reluctant as ever.
“You’ll see, mi vida. I promise it’ll be worth the climb.”
I’m not sure I agree, but I continue up the claustrophobia-inducing staircase, wishing there was a genie nearby to grant me a wish. I’d kick this fear of heights to the bloody kerb.
After a solid twenty minutes of climbing, the narrow stairs begin to widen, opening up to a large domed room with a wooden cross-bridge.
My eyes swing from the ground, which is quite literally the top of the mosaic glass ceiling that I’d seen when we first entered the building, to Rafael’s smirking face. “Absolutely not,” I huff out, shaking my head, fully prepared to turn around.
He tugs me to him, winding his arms around my waist and snuggling his face against my neck in just the way he’s learned makes me melt. “Not fair.” I breathe.
“What’s not fair?” he asks, his breath tickling the thin skin over my thrumming pulse. He laughs softly, and I’m certain he’s more than aware of his wrongdoings.
“This is manipulation, and I won’t stand for it,” I say, but the further his hands travel down my waist, the less determination my words seem to hold.
“Come on, baby,” he whispers, cupping me between my thighs.
“Sir, we are in church . This is a place of worship,” I whisper-yell at him even though we’ve just climbed three hundred steps, a fact I’m painfully aware of thanks to the number painted on the side of the last brick step I took, and there’s clearly no one around.
He chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest and against my back. “If you do this, I’ll let you take over tonight. You can do anything you want with me.”
My mind floods with images of all the ways I could wield that newfound power, and I’m suddenly standing a little taller and with a renewed sense of resilience.
I nod, taking off ahead, but as the wooden beam making up this horrifying bridge over the stained glass beneath us creaks with my weight, I take a step back and push Rafael forward. This was his dumbass idea, which means he better be there to catch my fall if this shite goes down.
My knees wobble as I hold my breath; clutching onto the side rails with a death grip, my throat constricts and my heart hammers in my chest. We finally make it to the other side, a fact that shocks me seeing as I almost passed out from holding my breath, and I feel warmth spread through me from the accomplishment.
Rafael peers over his shoulder at me, wearing a knowing smirk, but it turns out he’s suddenly on his best behaviour because he remains quiet, not calling me out.
We make it around a corner that reveals possibly the biggest obstacle yet.
“How does it keep getting worse?” I squeak out, feeling a little lightheaded as I stare up at the hollowed-out tower.
The architecture in this area is clearly not something that resources were focused on.
It’s merely an extremely tall tower with metre-wide steps, railings, thank fuck , that wind up the sides of the walls, climbing higher to a point I can’t even make out yet.
All I know is that the windows in here are small and provide minimal visibility, but there is a burst of light somewhere at the top, and if I were anyone else, that might make me feel better.
But I’m not just anyone. No, I’m Elise Auclair, fear of heights extraordinaire and apparently a closeted baby-back bitch.
So instead of relief, I’m filled with a thick sense of dread at knowing this trek to the top is likely to lead me somewhere outside, and I might just die if I have to face this same fear again so soon.
“Wasn’t fucking me over the side of a skyscraper enough for you?” I ask, whimpering.
Rafael squeezes my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to each one. “You’re gonna be fine, mi vida. What did I tell you that day on the roof?”
I joggle my mind for an answer, but nothing comes to the forefront.
“I said,” he whispers, “I’ll never let anything happen to you.” I feel my chest squeeze and my legs nearly give out as he tugs me to his chest and presses his forehead to mine. “I’ll protect you with my life, because you are my life, Elise.”
Everything is buzzing as the meaning of his words burrows into my skin. I’m tingling as they absorb into me and wriggle their way into my blood vessels, searching for the very marrow of my bones to settle into.
I have to fight my natural instinct to pull away from him, to deny what he’s said and slink into a place of self-destruction, but repeatedly, he’s shown me with his actions that his words ring true.
Neither of us speaks as he holds me in his strong arms, my gaze enraptured with his. And finally, I manage a weak nod before heading up the first of many flights of stairs.
After what was a very sweet moment, my pliable attitude has not proven to last long. I’ve complained every hundred steps since then, and Rafael’s smile has only grown wider.
I’m arguably very much an “in shape” person. I sort of have to be, but this church and its thirteen hundred steps are making me question my entire existence.
“We’re almost there, baby,” he promises for the tenth time today, practically carrying me as we go. It annoys me that much more that this man is over a decade older than me and he’s barely broken a sweat.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Promises, promises. I’ll believe it when I see it. Whatever it is.” He cracks a smile, lifting me effortlessly and bridal carrying me up the steps. “If I weren’t so damn tired, I’d argue because this doesn’t feel safe at all,” I whine.
“Good thing you're tired then. It’s the only time you’ll shut the hell up and relax,” he says with no bite in his tone.
I pinch his cheek, but the moment we’re here, I know it, and not only because he sets me gently on my feet to gaze up at the mural left behind by the thousands of sappy romantics with a death wish who’ve climbed here before us.
The destination isn’t the bright light at the very top. No , it’s the massive painted wall with thousands of names drawn together by every person who’s made it to this part of the ascent. At least, every person who knew of its existence and brought a marker.
Imagine making it here only to realise you don’t have anything to write with!
Rafael produces a gold marker from his back pocket, handing it to me. I take it in my shaking hands, feeling the weight of this monumental moment settling down around us.
Sure, from the outside it might seem like we’re just a new couple on a little weekend holiday, doing something touristy in a small town, but that isn’t all this is, and I think we both know that.
Do I love him? I’m not sure.
It’s moments like this that make me wish more than ever that I had my maman and Rachelle around. I could talk to them about him, tell them everything, and they’d leave me feeling less confused and flustered. They’d also pick on me for sure, but I wouldn’t care because they’d still be here.
I’ve loved many people in my life. I think it’s what makes me such a hard-ass sometimes.
Because I’ve loved my family with a fierceness that rivals all other forms of love.
I’ve loved my friends enough that I feel the need to protect them all from everyone and everything, including the wounded and tormented parts of myself that I’ve never had a desire to burden anyone with.
If I don’t let them into all the messy places in my heart and in my mind, they won’t have to carry the weight of it all with them. But with Rafael, the love I think I feel for him is so different.
We had a terribly rocky start to our relationship, and even now, we aren’t truly together, not in the way I think we’d both like.
And maybe we’ll never get to experience that, but there’s something so freeing in two unbelievably scarred, messy, and beautifully broken people being vulnerable with one another.
I’ve never known romantic love, but if this is as close to it as I’ll ever get, I’ll never want for anything more in my life.
Rafael hasn’t taken his gaze off of me since my eyes first landed on this wall, my fingertips trailing over the scribbles and scrolls of every person before us. “What’s running through your beautiful mind, mi vida? ”
I turn to face him, and he reaches out, cupping my cheeks. He runs the rough pads of his thumbs beneath my eyes, wiping at the errant tears I hadn’t even realised I’d let fall.
This is what’s so nice about Rafael and me.
We both understand the importance of sharing what’s on our minds with the people we care about because you never know when you might not have the chance anymore.
The hardest part has always been knowing that I should share my feelings but being unable to put that into action a lot of the time.
It feels easy to let myself speak my mind when I’m with him, and it’s a novelty.
“I’m thinking that I want more with you than casual, that I want to tell my dad about us, and that I definitely still hate heights even if this is really cool,” I say, ending on a watery laugh.
A wide grin stretches his lips, making a set of annoying, knicker-melting dimples pop out with the full force of the sun on a cloudy day. “Good, because I’m thinking all of the same things, minus the fear of heights.”
If this moment weren’t so tender, I’d make a jab at him about not knowing he had dimples before this, but that would break my entire philosophy about not telling people to smile more.
My chest tightens as I push past the immense feelings I’m suddenly being drowned in.
His eyes flicker to the wall, and he taps against an empty spot just off-centred to the right. “What about right here?” he asks.
Nodding, I shake the gold marker and uncap it. I write “Rafael + Elise”, and instead of outlining it with a simple heart, I write the words “resilient in love” in the shape of a heart surrounding them.
I cap the marker, taking a step back to admire my handiwork, and I swear I see this man's eyes fill with tears. They don’t fall, but I promise they’re there .