18. Galene
Chapter eighteen
Galene
L eila and I hang laundry on the line and pretend we haven’t noticed that everything around us is changing.
Or maybe it has been changing since the very day Rourk was brought into the medic tent. Since the moment it was declared that his livelihood was my Task.
Maybe I’ve just been avoiding that truth since the very heartbeat when I first set eyes on him.
I’m busy tossing a blanket up and pinning it down, wrestling against the damp fabric as it billows in the wind—so busy that I don’t notice someone has joined us until they clear their throat.
I jolt away from the noise—or, in other words, right into the billowing blanket. The person laughs, a deep, throaty sort of chuckle. Then an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me backward while untangling me from the fabric.
I recognize the feel of his skin against mine. Or perhaps not the feel of it, but more the way my body reacts to having him so close to me.
Rourk.
“Let go of me,” I mutter when I’m free, but the words come out so weakly that even I don’t believe them. Can he tell that I say it out of habit rather than disgust now? That I’m just trying to protect myself?
Still, he does. His arm falls away, and he takes a step backward. “Sorry.”
I cut a look at Leila, who tries to pretend she’s not watching us as she hangs one of our father’s shirts up. “It’s fine,” I mutter, straightening my shirt out. “What do you need?”
“It’s more of a want, actually.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay,” I drawl. “What do you want ?”
“To go on a walk,” Rourk says simply.
Now I’m confused. “Then go.”
His mouth quirks up into a devastatingly handsome smile. “I meant with you.”
I blink. “Oh.”
He nods. “Yeah. I’m leaving soon, you know, and… I think we should talk. Before I go.”
“Oh.” The syllable falls from my lips dumbly. I quickly look at Leila again. She’s given up pretending to hang the clothes and now just watches us blatantly. “I can’t. I have chores.”
“Just go,” she calls out. “I’ll cover for you.” She winks at me.
“I don’t think—”
“ —Please,” Rourk cuts in. When my eyes meet his again, those dark irises are pleading. Earnest. “Come on,” he says, his voice teasing but not quite hiding the serious note behind it. “Didn’t you hear me say I’m leaving? I’m giving you the chance to say whatever the fuck you want to me without having to see me later.” A not-quite-believable grin sprouts on his lips. “This is your only chance to finally get out all those insults you’ve thought of since the day we met. Formally, anyway.”
But none of those insults feel true anymore.
Still, I nod. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s go.”
Rourk tentatively offers me his arm.
I hesitate. Look into his eyes and can’t quite read the question within them.
Then I wrap my arm around his, let him pull me a little closer and lead me away.
Away is ten minutes away from the village, tucked into the treeline. Rourk walks us toward a fallen tree before releasing my arm and sitting.
I gingerly take a seat beside him. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Don’t want to get your insults out first, Galene?” he asks, his voice light.
I stare at him for a long moment. “No,” I say finally. “Not anymore.”
He nods and falls silent again, but I can’t sit inside that quiet any longer. “Rourk, you brought me all the way out here. Just… say whatever it is you want to say.”
Gently—hesitantly, like he’s waiting for me to pull away—he rests a hand on my knee. The touch is electrifying. He says, “I wanted you to know that I will always remember you.”
His words sear through me. There’s something about the stark honesty, the vulnerability, that melts my heart even as I freeze. It’s not even the words themselves, I don’t think. It’s the intention behind them. All the layers of meaning I could peel back if I wanted to. “What?”
“I will remember you,” he reiterates. “Forever. Fondly. I will tell stories about you to anyone who will listen. I will detail your eyes and your sharp wit and your determination to never be less and to always be more than the others around you.”
“Rourk,” I say. My voice is soft. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it,” he says roughly. “And I only ask one thing in return for this—this lifetime of longing I am to be subjected to from the very moment I walk away from you.”
My throat feels dry, but my eyes don’t. I have to fight back the tears that build. I realize now, in this moment, as Rourk gives me his version of a goodbye, that I don’t want him to leave. And that I will remember him, too. Forever. Fondly.
So I whisper. “Okay.” I let myself soak in the feeling of his thumb brushing against my knee. “What do you ask?”
His dark eyes stare deep into mine as he says, “That you remember me, too. I don’t care if it’s in fondness or fury. I don’t care if it’s only in passing, as you’re tending to wounds similar to the ones I had, or if it’s only when someone mentions my name. Either of them.” His voice is earnest now. “Just remember me, Galene, please .”
My hands shake as I fight back my tears. I can’t help myself as I reach for Rourk and press each palm to one of his cheeks, cupping his face in my hands. “I will remember you every day,” I swear to him. “And I will miss you every night.”
Rourk doesn’t try to kiss me, though I think that, in this moment, I would let him.
Instead, he pulls me tight to his body and wraps me in a hug.
It somehow means more to me than a kiss ever could.