Chapter 34 #2
The stool squeaks underneath me while I squirm, taking my first sip. I confessed my feelings last night in a flurry of passion. On the sofa. Just after he fingered me.
And despite feeling as if he likes me, Apollo never said it back. But he remembers how I take my coffee.
I feel too exposed. But maybe he’ll forget I said the words. Maybe he’ll save me some embarrassment.
It’s too soon. And how could I expect him to say anything back right then?
Our relationship was never supposed to be about love. It was an order. Something that we both had to commit to in order to survive.
Now?
I think I want him.
No. Even more humiliatingly, if I admit what’s true…
I love him.
I’m usually so utterly careful about my decisions. But there was nothing logical about this. Nope. The feelings I have inside for that man? It’s completely unrestrained and reckless.
Dad interrupts my glaring humiliation spiral with a loud slurp of his morning joe. “What’s the plan?”
Apollo leans on the counter next to my dad, the two looking like offensive lineman of the Northview Nighthawk’s football team. Just as big as Bo. Arms crossed. Sipping hot coffee. And deep furrows in their grumpy brows.
“I want to discuss something, but privately first. Not that I don’t trust you, G. But I…I do my best thinking while talking out loud. And with Scout there to help me sort things out—”
“I get it.” Dad shrugs, as if unaffected. Plus, I know he doesn’t want to be immersed unless we absolutely need him. “Keep us involved. We’re ready to help, but we have to know what you’re thinking.”
Apollo and he meet eyes, like they’re having some private conversation. It’s weird. And I kind of like it. My husband fits with my family, and that’s unexpected. It only deepens the feeling of attachment already blossoming deep in my chest. One that says that I can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.
I get ready for the day while Apollo eats. He has a rideshare drop us off at Karina. He doesn’t say why and I don’t ask. A silent plan is brewing behind his dark eyes, and we need to be careful with where we go.
And what we say.
On the roof, he clasps the edges of my lettered band jacket, the one I wore in high school, pulling me closer to him. Dad gave him some of Lan’s clothes to wear, including a jacket, and he wraps it around me until we’re both tucked in and warm.
His breath mingles with mine as the winter white sky expands above us. There aren’t any witnesses here. No spies or cameras. Nothing that would interfere.
It’s just my husband and me. Together. Facing the world.
“We should develop a secret code,” Apollo says, and I try to shove away the thoughts of how handsome he looks, even after a rough night of sleep.
“Things we need to communicate to each other that only you and I could figure out.” He shakes his head, the wind whipping through his black locks. “You’re the only one I trust, Scout.”
An urgent need for his trust and love heats me up inside. I swallow back the bit of emotion trying to escape. I don’t want to embarrass myself by making any more unreciprocated declarations.
It’s too soon. It’s utterly ridiculous. I’m so very calculated about everything. But when I know something, I know. I make wise decisions usually. I’m known for it.
With the pressure, the games, and our commitment. With everything we’ve been through, I can’t stop it. Apollo’s taken over my heart like I didn’t have a choice.
But I do.
I choose him.
“Maybe I should type everything on my phone and hold it up for you to read. That way, it won’t be overheard.”
Apollo runs a hand through his hair, letting me go as he squirms uncomfortably. “I don’t think so. That’s probably bugged, too.” His voice is ragged, laced with an edge.
“We could write notes on paper, then.”
His eyes narrow, and his shoulders stiffen as if he’s prepared for a fight. It’s strange. “No, I don’t like notes.”
The finality of his statement is odd. So…aggressive.
“Oh my god,” I whisper as it dawns on me. My brain snaps, putting everything together.
“What?” he chokes out, taking a step back from me. The safety of his body is gone.
“Apollo?” I swallow, waiting a beat to craft the perfect question. “Do… Can you read?”
The recipe instructions. His voice texts. The chicken scratched note he left me the other morning when he stepped out… Him saying he’s slow.
His eyebrows knit together as he sharpens his gaze at me.
“I’m not fucking stupid. I…” Pain settles in his features as if he’s ready for someone to laugh in his face.
“I know you’re not stupid. Is it like— Do you have dyslexia, or…?”
Clenching his jaw, he spits out, “I have a reading disability.” He stares at the gravel on top of the flat roof, shoving some around with his shoe. Silence fills the air between us until he lifts his pleading gaze to me. “No one here can know. I can’t… I can’t have the university finding out.”
“But there’s help out there. There are tutors—”
He spins around, hands in the air, and I’ve never seen him so furious. “I know! But I can’t have people finding out that I’ve been acing my classes every semester while unable to understand the fucking information!”
When he turns around, the anguish of his secret makes my heart hurt for him. I don’t know what to say. So I stay quiet. Just waiting.
“Maybe I am stupid.” His upper lip curls with disgust as he waves a hand toward me. “And married to a fucking genius. You happy now? Thrilled you married an idiot? Fell in love with him?”
“Apollo? Stop. What are you doing?”
He crosses his arms, but I rip one away from the other, so he has to hold me instead.
“You’re not stupid. And, yeah, I am a genius.
But also, yes. I am happy. As much as it hurts my pride?
Yep. I fell in love with you. All heroic and protective and good and fucking smart.
Able to read people so easily. Remember every detail of a situation.
One who pays attention to things I never think about. Plan life like you’re its CEO.”
My hands stroke his biceps as my voice cracks, finally admitting the truth.
“Yes, Apollo. I’m actually thrilled I married you.”
His lips press tight, and then…
He collapses onto me.
I’m not sure if he’s crying or not, but his lumbering body gathers mine up. Face buried in my neck, huffing in deep, shuddering breaths. Legs surrounding mine. It takes every ounce of strength to hold him up.
I stroke his hair and make soothing sounds.
It’s muffled, but I hear him say, “That’s what I needed to hear, I swear.”
When he straightens, I have tears in my eyes that match his glistening ones. He caresses my cheeks, holding my face.
“I love you, Mrs. Scout Griffin.”
As if he pulled the breath from my lungs, I freeze. Stunned. Maybe it’s because I was always too busy to think about such emotions. But Apollo, my husband, loves me. And that feels unbelievable.
This is even better than med school acceptance.
“You do?”
He releases a silent chuckle, emotion still coating his face.
“Yeah. At first, it was duty. Then respect for your role as my wife. The spark you brought to my life that first time we kissed. That ignited something. A flame. But then you… You, Scout. My tulip.” His hand brushes back some of my hair, tucking it behind an ear.
“I fell for everything you are. Intelligent. Capable. Sassy. And sexy. Don’t forget about sexy. ”
I’m smiling so hard, tears spill from my eyes.
“You’re the one I’ve been in love with.”
“Me?” I ask carefully. “Even when I asked you—”
“Even then. There was never anyone else.”
I sniff and wipe my face with my glove. “So why didn’t you tell me then?”
His brown eyes search the clear sky as if it will give him the answer.
“Pride? Fear of getting hurt? I knew you didn’t feel the same, so I guess I was waiting to show you through my actions and not my words.
” He steps closer and pulls me tighter into his chest. “To show you what a good husband I could be.”
I relish his embrace, especially as he slowly sways like he does. “The best husband. I won.”
“Hmm?” he asks, and I pull back to look at his dimples deepening with his grin.
“I won the POT lotto.”
He taps the end of my nose with his. “No, me.”
Now that our feelings are leaking out, I want to confess everything. To clear any secrets between us. The only way we get through this trial is together. On one side.
“I have to tell you something, Apollo.” I grip his forearms gently. “You told me about your reading difficulties, but… Okay, here it goes. I never stopped taking my birth control. And I never took those pills they—”
Every strapping muscle he owns tenses.
Then, he grabs my head and shoves it into his firm pecs with a squeeze. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I don’t trust them. The president, especially. We can have kids whenever you want.” There’s a hint of pain in the corners of his eyes. “But I do hope you want them.”
With a smile, I settle into his hold to reassure him. “It’s on my checklist. Someday. Just, not now.”
His shoulders sag with relief. “Perfect. But there’s still no way I want you taking what they’re giving you. We can do what we need to keep them off of us.”
“But?” I ask, wondering what plan he’s got in his mind.
“But we need to figure out who’s after you. And what they have to do with the president. And your friend who was murdered.”
I take a deep, steadying breath of the cold winter air.
“Then let’s start planning.”