Chapter 41
Rafe
“Fuck off.” Amber glides down my throat, searing my insides, but it does nothing to stop the burning pain of my shattered heart.
Six days. Six fucking days, eight hours and twenty-three minutes I’ve been without Lina.
And I don’t know where the fuck she is.
Powerless. Hopeless. Damn right desperation poisons my soul. I stare at my glass, swirling the liquid around, contemplating throwing the glass at… well, me.
“Stop drinking and get your act together. You’re being pathetic.”
The glass launches across the room. Rafe tilts his head to the side, allowing the glass to hit the wall behind him, smashing into a million pieces.
Blood trickles down his temple, a small shard nicking his flesh.
He’ll live.
He sighs, resting his elbows on spread knees, hanging his head.
“This was always going to happen.”
“Why are you here?”
“Thought you could use some company,” he shrugs.
“Why?”
Giving past self some company whilst I drink my sorrows doesn’t sound like anything I’d do. What’s his agenda here…
“You get blitzed, fist the wall and break your knuckle. Hurts me still when I write, so trying to have a do-over here.” His grin arrogant and smug; I don’t buy it.
“Fine. I won’t get into a fight with the wall. You can go now. Rooms tend to light back up when you leave.” I rise, grab another glass from the kitchen and swipe the bottle from the counter on my way back to my chair by the fire.
Six days.
Yet the tightness in my chest makes it seem like six fucking centuries.
“Feeling it now, huh.” He makes himself comfortable, stretching out his long legs and props his bare feet on my—our—table. Great, more cock and balls on my seats. I can walk around and sit on my shit naked; he can’t.
It’s just... weird.
“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I say, pouring a couple fingers in my crystal glass, trying my best not to see Lina everywhere I look.
She’s in the bathroom washing down her soft, naked flesh, smelling of citrus and wildflowers.
She’s at the kitchen table munching on Eklinese biscuits.
She’s in the chair he sits in, chewing the inside of her cheek as she sorts through her complex thoughts.
She’s on the bed, gripping my face, kissing me, moaning into my mouth as we make love.
Fuck.
I need her to know how fiercely she’s claimed my heart.
He snickers, intertwining his palms that rest on his stomach, puts his head back and closes his eyes.
“I don’t need a minder. Your knuckles are safe, so piss off and leave me be.”
“I have a scar and pain that says different.” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, it makes me close mine too, laying my head on the back of the couch visualising my woman close to me.
Silence stretches, the only sounds of our steady breaths, the birds and the breeze streaming through the open windows on this humid evening.
“How long, Rafe?”
How long until my woman comes back to me.
How long until the Fates cross my path again with hers.
I can’t move on. I won’t allow myself to move on because she’s all I want.
I don’t want my body, my soul, my heart to belong to anyone else.
I only want her touch, her lips, her laugh, even her sighs and rolling eyes.
His inhalation is deep. I’m not going to like the sound of this am I?
“Too long. I still feel the ache to this day.”
Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that. The backs of my eyes burn hotter than coals. Only since this beautiful, remarkable woman came into my life have I been so emotionally unstable. She’s made me feel things I’d never thought possible. Made me see things through fresh eyes.
She has me wanting to make the world better for her.
Before, I never gave a shit; the world could burn for all I care.
But that was before her.
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
But everything just… hurts.
“Why?” I ask, no louder than a whisper. Why does it take her so long, shouldn’t she have reversed it by now, wiped my memories and put herself back in my path again.
“She… she has stuff to do first.”
“When will my memories fade?”
It’s the least he can tell me. At least if I knew when they would go, I could prepare myself. Close my eyes more and picture her for a last time. Perhaps try and write myself a letter, tell my future self all about her and hide it in my box beneath my bed in hopes I don’t fully forget her.
“Rafe…”
Answer me, dammit.
“Rafe!”
His chair is empty. The silence stretches.
And I’m alone.
Again.
With this pain in my chest. Though, this aching thing behind my ribs yearns to forget her a little sooner. Forgetting Lina, appears to be the only cure to ease the suffocation she’s infected me with.