Chapter 81
Quill
December Dinner
Best Alone
Carlos Rafael Rivera
While Davian and Tony had been helping Monica cook, Lara and I had been trying to teach Streusel commands like sit and down in the garden until ten minutes ago, and Lara had been taking photos of the two of us.
This dog training session had been more or less unsuccessful, because the dog had kept throwing himself into the piles of dry leaves, which served as a reminder that the snow seemed to be avoiding this town.
I was afraid of the snow coming. Not only would it remind me of last Christmas. I also knew that I would see him everywhere. The blond boy with sky-blue eyes and blood splatters across his face. In a sea of red that would spread through the snow until other faces joined him. Mama, Troy…
It was enough that I had seen him in the bathroom mirror this morning and screamed until Lara and Davian had burst in at the same time.
Lara had taken me in her arms, while Davian had stared at me as if I were a ghost.
Maybe that was exactly what I was becoming with every passing day in this town.
Just under a week ago, I had barely been able to stand it, had wanted to cut myself, but I hadn’t wanted to be alone, had wanted to lie in Davian’s arms while I numbed my pain with pain, which had prompted me to take the razor blade with me to campus without a second thought.
Things had escalated, and I had made him a promise that I would try with all my might to keep. Even if that meant I would increasingly seek solace in his darkness, addicted to the liberating destruction brought by the only blade that had ever belonged on my skin. Him.
And he? He had given me the most beautiful and at the same time most intense pain I had ever felt in my life. Had woven himself into my skin, sealing our blue thread for all eternity.
The wound beneath my left breast still ached when I moved or accidentally rolled onto it while sleeping, yet I relished the pain and the tears that accompanied it.
The only feeling that didn’t overload me. In which I wanted to drown.
Added to that was the goddamn sex with this man. To be unconditionally his, to come so close to his most sensitive, darkest core when he used me radically, was so overwhelming that it brought tears to my eyes every time.
It was easy to touch someone’s light. But holding someone’s darkness in your hands and cutting yourself on its shards with unconditional devotion was the only sacrifice that made raw intimacy possible.
“I’m glad your fever is finally gone.”
Meghan’s Theme
David Buckley, Luke Richards
I looked up in confusion at Monica, who was sitting diagonally across from me and gave me an encouraging smile.
Davian, sitting across from her to my right, choked on his glass of water, and Lara, sitting next to him, stared at him, which Monica and Tony fortunately didn’t notice.
It was mid-December, and this was something like the monthly dinner to which Lara had invited me, which was why Tony didn’t ask any questions.
My brother set down his wine glass and looked at me searchingly.
“Fever?”
What should I reply? Monica still didn’t know who I really was.
Lara gave him a warning look. “Quill was sick. I’ll probably get sick soon, too.”
Monica turned to her with a worried look. “Are you not feeling well?”
“Oh, it’s probably just a cold coming on.”
Tony was still staring at me as if he’d heard chlamydia instead of a fever.
He still didn’t know I lived here.
And what no one except Davian and I knew was how desperate our few moments of eye contact had been. At every breakfast, when Lara wasn’t looking; every time we ran into each other on campus; after every Gute Nacht.
He was avoiding me again. But every now and then, when we were alone, he would take my hand in his, pull me into his arms for seconds that felt like milliseconds, and kiss my hair.
All of this hurt more than I had expected. And as trivial as it sounded, I missed him inside me.
“I’m quitting.”
Surprised, I looked up from my breaded chicken – just like everyone else – at Davian, who continued cutting his potatoes before calmly pouring butter over them.
Longingly, I studied the veins on his hand, trying to imagine how pleasant his fingers would feel on my stomach, between my thighs…
“What?” Tony managed to say.
Only now did I notice that Lara was looking back and forth between me and Davian’s hand before staring at me in shock.
Heat exploded in my cheeks and I looked back down at my plate.
I wanted to sink into the ground.
Wait, what had Davian just said?
“Davian, wait.” Monica lowered her silverware. “You can’t leave us alone. We won’t win this war without you.”
Davian looked at her seriously.
“A war I never agreed to fight.”
Monica stared at him as if petrified, and Tony raised both eyebrows, reaching for his whiskey glass as if he needed a moment to process this information. Just like me.
He seemed to mean it. But… where did this sudden change of mind come from?
Hope began to sprout within me, but I strangled it.
No, he wouldn’t do something like that for me.
“You’re a lawyer,” Monica said. “One of the last decent ones. This place needs you.”
“What if Davian doesn’t want to be a lawyer anymore?”
The words had just slipped out, and for a moment everyone looked at me.
Tony laughed, amused. “We’ve all known him longer than you have.” He raised both eyebrows. “And believe me, there’s no one more suited to be a lawyer than him. You should have seen him in D.C. Literally everyone wanted him to represent them. His colleagues were jealous of him. And Father…”
“What if he were an even better author?” I cut him off and shot him a challenging look, though not for too long so it wouldn’t be obvious.
Tony stared at me in confusion.
Did he know about Atrianima? As far as I knew, only Lara was in on it.
Davian stared at me for the first time, as if I shouldn’t have said that. As if it were stirring something up inside him. And I felt sorry, even though his gaze on me felt like the beginning of a long-awaited release.
“Author?” Monica laughed nervously, but her laughter faded as if she were realizing something, before she swallowed and sheepishly set the bowl of rice back down.
“Anyway,” Davian said, clearing his throat, apparently not even noticing Monica’s strange reaction. Instead, he gave me a warning look, and I raised both eyebrows, but his gaze shifted to Tony. “It would probably be wisest if I went back to D.C. and worked for a company there.”
What?
Good thing I hadn’t given that insidious hope a chance.
Of course Davian wouldn’t give up the fight against Atrianima so easily.
I knew he was writing. The light spilled into the hallway through his ajar study door late into the night, and during seminars, when all the students were working on assignments, he’d jot things down hastily until that telltale sparkle settled in his eyes and he ruffled his hair.
“So it’s really settled?”
Of course there was excitement in Tony’s voice.
“Davian. Please tell me this is a big joke.” Monica sounded as if she didn’t want to believe it. “We really need you.”
Davian emptied his water glass before looking at her seriously, though with a composed expression.
“Monica. Trust me. You’ll manage just fine without me.” A shadow crossed his face. “Arnold can’t run the university forever. Things will get better.”
“Isn’t Joseph going to be the new director?” Lara asked.
A maniacal laugh escaped my throat, and my tongue got the better of me way too quickly.
“Definitely not.”
Silence.
Literally everyone stared at me, but Monica was the one whose expression screamed confusion.
“I mean…” I began, forcing a smile. “As far as I know, he leans conservative, and the Ethics Committee will surely be looking for a more liberal candidate for the directorship.”
Monica nodded slowly. “You’re right. Maybe I should request the nomination of a second candidate. Elected by the students.” She turned to Davian. “You’d be perfect for it.”
Davian quickly shook his head, set down his glass, and raised both hands.
“We both know I’m not going to run a university. Never.”
I had to smirk, and he looked at me, flustered, but was forced to look back at Monica.
Once again, I noticed Lara staring at us.
When I caught her, she cleared her throat quickly and looked at her father.
“I’m glad you’ve realized you have potential. Maybe you’ll start your own law firm after all.”
Davian nodded absently and stared at his plate as if that were the last thing he wanted.
I moved closer to the table, sliding my hand under the tabletop toward his knee, which twitched slightly at my touch.
I smirked, watching him discreetly, but he didn’t look up.
So I was all the more surprised when, in the next moment, I felt his hand brush against mine. Warm, rough, cautious. How it slid into mine, feeling its way gingerly, and how he finally wrapped it completely around mine and caressed the back of my hand with his thumb.
I had been in this town for months now, and only now did I realize all the things he had made me work through or forget.
All the pain of my past felt only half as heavy.
My memories of all the things my father had done to me and Mama were slowly fading, even though I knew they would never disappear.
The only emotional scars I would carry with me forever.
But when Davian held my hand like that, I forgot every single one of them for a moment.
“Does Joseph know about your plan?” Monica pressed, and Davian looked up without letting go of my hand.
Tony was quicker. “He’ll be happy, even though he’ll want you back at Maplecrest eventually.”
Davian glared at Tony, and Monica looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion.
“Anyway…” Tony laughed nervously. “By the way, I’m supposed to invite all of you to the New Year’s Eve gala at our house. Father insists.”
I raised both eyebrows.
“Us? All of us?”
Tony stared at me, and his expression grew serious.
“All of you.”
Monica shrugged.