Thirty Two #2
Looking away from me, he lifted his left hand and wrapped his fingers around the thick worn rope holding up the swing, studying it for a moment. “I built this swing when I was fifteen. This part of the gardens became my sanctuary on the days when the world was too much.”
“Is that why you’re out here tonight? The world is too much?”
“No. The opposite. It’s not enough…without you in it.” He looked at me.
My chest constricted. “Adrian—”
“I know I need to give you time, but I…I miss you.”
I missed him, too. I missed us from before. Sitting beside him, I could pretend that we were back in the library at Bradford Manor. And wasn’t it what my mother had advised that I do? Pretend?
“I’m here now,” I said with a soft smile. “Will you read to me?”
His face lit up. “Of course.” He cleared his throat before he looked down at the book and started reading.
Pretend. I turned toward him and rested my back against the rope.
The sound of his measured voice took me back in time as if he had glimmered us to the library.
Suppressing a contented sigh, I closed my eyes, picturing the cozy oversized sofa and the crackling fire in the hearth.
I was comfortable and warm, Adrian’s presence soothing the hole in my chest that only I could see.
When my eyes snapped open, I was lying on a plush mattress.
I blinked, slowly realizing that I was in my room, which was cast in shadows, a beam of moonlight crossing my bed.
I must have drifted off to sleep, and Adrian must have brought me here…
Finn’s note rested on the pillow next to me. I bolted upright as my heart sank.
My gaze shot to the door that led to Adrian’s room.
He had seen the note, I was sure of it. I had to talk to him, to explain.
I scrambled out of the bed and made my way to the door.
My heart hammering in my chest, I reached for the handle.
What if he had locked me out? I sucked in a breath and twisted the handle.
A shuddering exhale left me when the door opened.
The relief I felt was quickly replaced by crippling anxiety.
What was I supposed to say? How could I explain?
I suddenly felt sorry for myself, for being in this situation, but I only had myself to blame.
My bare feet pattering on the stone floor, I walked into Adrian’s bedroom.
The place was bathed in a yellow glow from the lamp on the nightstand, but the four-poster bed was empty.
I looked around the spacious room decorated in shades of gray and dark blue.
The setup was similar to mine, with balcony doors to the left of the bed.
The blue curtains were open, allowing for the moonlight to drift in, illuminating the easel in the corner.
A painted canvas sat on the easel, and my curiosity rose as I stepped toward it.
A portrait of a woman—step—blonde hair—step—golden eyes—step— My hand flew up to my mouth as I stopped breathing. The painting was a portrait of me.
“How do you see me?”
“To me, you are the brightest star, more luminous than the entire stellar sea above us. You are magnificent, inside and out, with a gentle heart that bleeds for your people. There is a light inside you that you don’t realize you possess, capable of guiding me out of the shadows even in the darkest hour. ”
Tears spilled as I stood before the canvas, unable to look away.
The painting wasn’t a reflection of my beauty, but rather the beauty of the one who had created it.
Adrian had poured his feelings onto the canvas, transforming it into the highest form of praise.
The portrait was a testament, an ode, a tribute, and my heart was so full I thought it might burst.
“I was going to give it to you on our wedding day,” came Adrian’s voice from behind me.
I whirled around to him stalking toward me. His face softened when he noticed my tears, but then his expression became hard again.
“The note you found, I can explain. Nothing happened, I swear!”
He stopped directly in front of me, hurt etched into his features. “Did you want something to happen?!”
“No! I only wanted to hurt you!” I grimaced. Maybe it’s time for a new Emelin, I had told my mother. Except I didn’t like the new girl I was becoming.
“Well, you succeeded,” he said before turning away from me. He strolled to the bed and began fumbling with the covers. “If this is the marriage you want…different rooms, different lives, different…lovers—”
“I don’t!”
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Then stay.” The words were a plea and an ultimatum all at the same time.
My pulse ratcheted up as I eyed the bed. It was wide enough that we wouldn’t even have to touch.
“I need to change first,” I told him.
“All right.” The taut muscles of his back relaxed a fraction, but he sounded apprehensive as if he didn’t trust that I would return if I left the room.
“I will be back,” I promised.
I went to my chambers and changed into my nightgown.
Adrian’s room was darker when I returned because the curtains over the balcony doors had been drawn.
He wasn’t in bed, and the sound of running water in the bathing chamber let me know that he was showering.
The place inside me where I had locked away the memories from our night together stirred, infusing my body with heat.
Ignoring the flushed feeling, I walked to the bed and peeled back the blue covers on the left side, closest to the balcony.
I sat down on the mattress, facing the canvas so I could admire it again.
My heart squeezed as tears gathered in my eyes.
The way in which Adrian had rendered me…
I looked like a goddess, surrounded by twinkling stars.
To be perceived like that… I couldn’t think of a greater honor.
“You came back.” Adrian’s breath of relief sounded behind me.
“I told you I would.” I turned around to look at him.
He stood shirtless, his damp hair glistening in the lamplight. My throat dried as the memories rushed to the surface of my mind. My hands on his hard chest, running down his sculpted torso, and lower… Swallowing, I turned back to the canvas.
“The painting is breathtaking,” I rasped.
“Because you are.” His voice sounded closer, washing over me like a gentle caress.
When the mattress dipped slightly, I dared a glance over my shoulder. He had thrown on a shirt and slipped under the covers on the right side of the bed. He was lying on his left side, facing me. I turned back to the painting.
“Thank you,” I uttered two simple words, knowing full well that I would never be able to properly express how the painting truly made me feel.
“You’re welcome.” The room grew quiet as I stared straight ahead of me, feeling Adrian’s gaze on my back. “Get in,” he said after a few seconds. “I told you I don’t expect intimacy. I won’t touch you until you want me to.”
Deciding there was no point in delaying it any longer, I climbed under the covers and turned to my right side to face him.
“How did your visit to Emeraldia go? I assume it was successful. Your patterns are gone.” He went to reach for me across the sea of silver satin sheets, but caught himself, pulling his hand back.
“It went well. Lady May took me this morning. And that time, I didn’t release all of the ancient magic into the land. I kept some for myself.”
“You did?” His brows lifted.
I nodded. “Lady May said that I could. She and I spent the afternoon training after we had returned from Nasyra. She wants me to learn how to use my powers for self-defense.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. I can also train you if you like.” One side of his mouth ticked up, and my gaze dropped to his lips. His lips on my lips, my neck, my chest, my—
I flipped to my back with a rough exhale.
“What can I do?” he rasped.
“What?” I glanced at him.
His eyes had turned darker, and his right hand was fisting the sheets as if it was taking everything in his power not to reach for me. I wanted to reach for him, too. It would be so easy to give in to this pull between us. To feel his touch on my flushed skin, his lips on mine, his hands—
Stars. I lifted my gaze to the ceiling, my breathing becoming short, rapid pants.
“What can I do to help you forgive me?” he asked, breathing as shallowly as me.
I couldn’t deny the pull between us, but I could resist it. Giving in to it when I hadn’t forgiven him for his deception would be unfair to both of us.
“Nothing. I just need time.” I turned to my left side, away from him.
He didn’t say anything else, and exhaustion began pulling me under in the shadowy silence of the room.
Before I drifted off to sleep, he whispered, “Thank you for staying with me.”