Forest For The Trees
"If you were to complete the steps out of the order that I give to you then it would not matter if you had completed them correctly, for that which you wish to eradicate would not lend you peace."
Twyla's eyes popped open, the sound of Zing's husky voice slowly fading from her mind as she stared at the ceiling that was barely visible in the darkened room.
Those words had gone from mildly concerning to haunting over the course of seventy-two hours.
If she hadn't instantly realized that she'd screwed up the ritual, the surge of various emotions she'd experienced the moment Arturo stepped through the door of the cabin would've been indication enough.
Delight.
Despair.
Desire.
Discomfit.
It had been overwhelming how she'd been flooded with them all at once, but underneath it all was a deep-seeded terror she couldn't ignore.
If her feelings weren't gone, even temporarily, that meant—according to what she'd interpreted—she was going to suffer under the weight of what she felt for Arturo on an even grander scale for the next week.
So far, she didn't feel any different, which meant it hadn't kicked in yet.
That was perhaps the scariest part of all.
What if she went from moping pathetically to foaming at the mouth for him in the middle of dinner? Would she suddenly be overcome with a desire so strong that she shot across the hot tub and kissed him in front of everyone?
The unknowing was stressing her out to totally that she'd begun grinding her teeth.
That was all it took for her to toss the covers aside and shuffle into the closet where she'd left her suitcase.
Bright Horizons paid her more than what she'd make at a public school, but that didn't mean she could be careless about the orthodontia she was still paying off.
In the closet, she tapped the button on the wall that lit the recessed lights along the wall and used that to find and pull on a pair of cropped leggings and a tank top.
Once she was dressed, she left the closet, stepped into the slides she'd left at the side of her bed, and quietly exited the room.
She took care to gently pull the door shut behind her so she didn't disturb her three roomates who were still asleep.
The house was quiet as she walked through and she held her breath, hoping that meant she wouldn't run into anyone on her way outside.
Her prayers were answered. She made it through the massive home without seeing another soul, not releasing her breath until she was not only outside but past the firepit and among the trees.
Breathing heavily, she did a series of continuous deep breaths as she followed the trail until she could no longer see the house behind her.
Only then she turned to the nearest tree, leaned one folded arm against the rough bark, pressed her face into the crease of her elbow and let out the sob she'd been holding in.
It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.
How the hell was she supposed to go the rest of her life calling a man whose dick she'd had in her mouth uncle anything? How was she supposed to do family functions from now on? How was she supposed—
Sucking in a breath, Twyla's thoughts stopped abruptly. Though her eyes had been closed and her cries audible, she knew that she was no longer alone. And she knew exactly who it was that stood behind her.
Shaking her head, she pushed off of the tree and slowly turned to face him.
She'd left her watch in the room along with her phone so she was unaware of the time, but she knew it was too early for him to be out there with her.
The sun had yet to enter the sky, but it was certainly on its way soon.
Twyla took note of the fog surrounding them and she wondered how Arturo even found her with the combination of low visibility and darkness.
Regardless, she saw him clearly and hated the way her belly jumped at the sight of him.
Arturo stood barely three feet away from her, clad only in a pair of low-slung joggers and Samoa adidas, his bare chest that glistened from either sweat or the morning dew heaving as if he'd ran the entire distance from the cabin to where Twyla was.
His brown eyes roved her face, and she was acutely aware of the cooling tracks of tears on her cheeks.
Embarrassment heated her face, but indignation steadied her footing.
Again, she wondered how he managed to find her.
She was supposed to be out there alone for at least an hour before one of her uncles got up to start making breakfast, yet here was the man she was mourning, staring her in her crusty, snotty face.
None of this was fair.
Brushing the back of her hand under one of her eyes, she shifted her weight and opened her mouth to ask what he was doing there.
"Why are you crying?" he asked before she could utter a single word.
The care in his voice sent a fresh wave of despair through her and she choked down another sob so that she could try and answer him.
The attempt was in vain. At the sound of tears in her throat, Arturo swiftly closed the distance between them, bringing his hands up to her face.
His movements startled her and she stepped backward, bumping into the tree as he cupped her cheeks.
He was so close to her that she could smell the sweat on him and see the beads dotted across the tattoos that covered his chest. Memories of the last time those same tattoos were within a similar viewing distance accosted her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting her brain to think of anything but him naked on top of her. Inside of her.
His thumbs gently brushed against her cheeks, swiping at the fresh trails of tears.
"Please," he murmured. "Don't cry, my love."
She felt his lips touch her cheeks and she lost it.
As he kissed her face, she cried out all of her frustration and pain.
She wasn't just sad, she was angry. It shouldn't be this way.
It wouldn't be this way if her family would just fucking talk to each other!
Her own mother had disappointed her. Twyla watched her mother get left out of gatherings with her siblings growing up and she saw how that hurt Linda.
To then perpetuate the same thing that harmed you was unfathomable to Twyla.
Linda had never even mentioned Arturo to Twyla.
Not even to throw shade on Twyla's grandfather by calling Arturo an "outside baby".
Linda never missed an opportunity to be shady, so that was as unbelievable as Arturo's existence.
And now, because of her family's secrets being swept under the rug and ignored like a pile of trash in the corner of the kitchen, Twyla had committed a moral crime that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
It made her sick to her stomach and her throat tightened with disgust. Disgust with herself and her own actions.
For all intents and purposes, this was just a man she worked with that she'd gone on one date with. There was no reason she should feel so strongly about the way things played out.
Except you didn't just go on a date with him. You slept with him.
That thought crossed her mind and she immediately turned her head to the left as if she could look away from the reminder.
Only, the petulant move gave Arturo access to her neck, and he took advantage without hesitation, peppering kisses along the short column of skin until he reached her exposed collar bone.
"Why are you here?" She managed to choke out.
There was a war inside of her and her voice sounded anguished to her own ears.
Why are you here kissing me? Why are you in this forest instead of asleep like everyone else?
Why are you in Tennessee and not back in Houston?
Each question was somehow buried in the four words she'd spoken.
Instead of answering her right away, Arturo kissed back up the trail he'd made along her skin. Once he reached beneath her ear, he grasped her chin and turned her to face him.
"I am here because you are here."
Her eyes flew open at his words, and she stared at him in disbelief.
Why would he say that? They were supposed to be pretending that nothing had happened between them.
It was an unspoken agreement. Twyla knew they both understood that no matter what had transpired between them and how they might have felt about each other, things couldn't continue. She knew that he knew that.
Yet…
Here he was, kissing on her in the forest in the wee hours of the morning as if they weren't on a family vacation.
And you're letting him.
Her thoughts rendered her speechless. She was letting him. What the hell was wrong with her?
"Please," he spoke again. His eyes soft and desperate.
His hands fell from her face to her neck and her breath hitched, but then they continued down and over her shoulders.
They trailed down her arms, blazing a path that left her skin tingling, until he grasped both of her hands and lifted them into the air, draping them over his shoulders.
She had no idea what he was pleading for but alarms began to blare in her brain when she realized it looked like they were embracing. This was decidedly not a platonic or familial position. If anyone saw them, she couldn't even imagine what they might think.
"Please," fell from his lips once more before he leaned in and settled those same lips over hers.
Oh, no!