38. Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Eight
Sara
My eyes flutter open, I have no idea where I am. My vision is blurry and my throat is dry. I look to the side, and the gentle sunlight and breeze from the open patio window reorient me.
A figure steps over me, and I see soft blue eyes looking down as I’m lying on the couch in the living room. Joe attends to something on my forehead, and I grumble at my raging headache.
“Don’t fidget. I tried to stop it, but your head hit the ground, regardless.” Joe gently cleans my skin with a wet cloth and applying cream to what I’m guessing is a wound, considering the sting. When it eases, my whole-body freezes, remembering what had happened, and I grab his wrist hard.
I fainted.
I wasn’t strong enough for him, and I fainted.
My deepest, strongest, meanest, ugliest fear took over me, and my body shut down.
My body limped to the ground against Liam right before I felt powerful arms against my head to slow down the impact.
That’s all I remember. I couldn’t lose him.
I couldn’t lose him. I couldn’t go through this pain again.
“Where’s Liam?” I barely get the words out and send the comforter flying off of me. “Is he okay? Please tell me he’s okay.”
“He’s okay.” Joe puts his hands up. “Breathe, he’s okay.”
“Don’t you tell me to fucking breathe when you’re not even supposed to have a breath of your own!” I hiss at him, angry. So angry at him.
“Sara, we need to ta—”
But I storm out of the room, my ass on fire, my head muddled, frantically looking for him. I make my way down the hallway and to his bedroom.
I see Damien standing, his muscled back in his white tee and black jeans, and another mid-fifties man crouching, taking Liam’s vitals while the wires connected to him run into a machine. I round the bed pretending none of them are there existing besides him, besides Liam.
He looks so pale and the grim on their faces…
“He’s dead.” I blurt.
They all look at me with perplexity and how-should-we-tell-her expressions, and I’m feeling faint all over again. Damien’s attention narrows on me, taking my hand. I look up at him, confused by his proximity and … the angst is his eyes.
The emotions swirling behind his dark brown eyes.
“What? No, no, he’s not. He’s going to be okay, but it was very close to his heart. He got out of surgery a few hours ago,” Damien says.
How many hours had I been out?
“So, he’s going to be okay?” I ask, gasping a sob.
Damien squeezes my hand and looks as genuine as I’d ever seen him, pain and relief all in one. “He’s going to be okay, Sara.”
“Oh, thank God,” I say my hand on my chest.
“Are you going to be okay?” the man asks, who I presume is the doctor. “Would you like me to check that?” He points to my forehead.
“No, I’m fine, thank you. Can I lie next to him?” I ask shyly, eyes stinging.
“Yes, don’t move him and be careful with his bandage. Keep an eye for blood, swelling, redness. Here’s his antibiotic and pain management. He’ll need it.” I nod and thank him as Damien walks him out.
Joe walks over, a kitchen cloth wiping his hands like he’s done the dishes and is back into civilization.
“Should I stay over, or can you handle it?” Damien asks Joe. Clearly, they’ve talked about his ghost coming back to the living, and one question truly burns on my tongue: Who did we even bury?
“No thanks, I’ve got it. I’m here now.” His eyes land on mine, and my body shivers.
Damien nods and looks at me, waiting to see if I’m okay with this. No, is what I want to scream because none of this is okay, and although I nod back, appreciating Damien’s concern, I'm hiding how lost I feel and look down at Liam.
“Come by tomorrow. We need to talk more,” Joe tells Damien, and he silently replies but I don’t see what, and I hope he agrees to it, because being here alone with Joe and Liam is not something I’m remotely prepared for.
The sound of footfalls, followed by the soft touch of fingers moving my hair away from my forehead, wakes me. I open my eyes to darkness, the moonlight projects an almost peaceful surrounding, but the man standing before me makes my heart stall and my chest tightens instantly.
Joe’s fingers slowly brush my cheek, tracing my jaw down to my collarbone before removing the covers very slowly.
His gaze never leaves mine as he lowers his hand over my white nightgown, tracing my breast over the material, my nipples hardening at his touch.
I can’t breathe. I’m completely paralyzed.
I stare into his eyes, trying to decipher what he intends to do.
When he takes my hand and presses it to the hard ridge of his erection over his jeans, a panic takes hold.
“Joe, I… I can’t…”
“It’s okay.” He lowers himself to the side of the bed and bunches up my nightgown, revealing my underwear, and I shake my head.
“Joe, no… I…”
I’m not even sure I want him to stop.
I finally look around, and Liam is sleeping peacefully next to me, his breathing steady.
I extend my arm and flatten my hand against his forehead, making sure he doesn’t have a fever.
My breath catches when Joe’s lips reach my neck, kissing me softly, each kiss lingering as he inhales every inch of my skin.
His hands find my hips, and his mouth drags kisses over my underwear and up to my navel.
He stops there, his hands and lips resting lovingly against my stomach.
“My home…You’re my home,” he says so quietly and passionately.
I swallow hard, closing my eyes at his words, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.
I bring my hand to the back of his head and then retreat.
I feel the wrongness of it and the rightness of it like two frequencies that won’t resolve.
I swallow again, threading my fingers through his hair.
His head falls to my chest as if my touch relieves him, and his arms embrace me tightly, holding me close to his body.
With need to have him close, I bury my face in his neck, and his body shakes against mine.
“I need you.” His voice cracks between kissing my shoulder and under my ear. He cups my breast, his hand just resting over my heart. I hold him, caressing his back, up and down with my fingertips.
I can’t find the words at the moment, nor can I give him back what he took away. Not yet at least.
Perhaps ever.
But holding him heals me too, so I don’t let him go for the rest of the night, while my other hand never sways away from Liam.
When I wake up, I’m carefully curled against Liam, not wanting to hurt any part of his body, Fiasco at my back, and Joe is not there. I sigh in a bit of relief because even though everything burns, I’m still so angry with him.
Liam shifts and grunts in pain, and I immediately perk up, caressing his face to let him know he’s not alone—I’ll never let him be alone. Liam’s eyes flutter open, and a little half-smile that makes my heart sing lights up his face.
“Hi,” I whisper gently.
“Hi,” he replies, grunting in pain. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Me? You’re asking me if I’m okay? I’m only worried about you, Liam. You scared me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.”
“I’m okay, I’ll pull through. I’ll pull through,” he says with gentle conviction.
“I love you, Liam. I love you so much.” I look into his eyes.
“I love you too, baby. I’m going to rest a little more.” He closes his exhausted eyes, and I lace my fingers in his hair, softly massaging his scalp until his breathing gets heavier.
Then his eyes fly open, as if reality crashes back in. “Is Joe alive, or did I die and come back?”
“He’s alive,” I say flatly because the shock and betrayal have barely dissipated.
He reaches for a strand of my hair, and the vulnerability in his eyes almost breaks me. “What does this mean for us?” The question is valid… what does this mean for us?
I want to tell him it doesn’t change anything, but there’s no manual on how to handle your dead “ex” coming back to life, let alone his twin brother who’s your current boyfriend, a man I love, but everything is still so new, and my love for Joe hasn’t vanished.
I’m fucked. That’s what I am.
When he sees the pause in my answer, his teeth clench… I hate myself.
“Can we talk about this when you feel better?” I ask, my fingers slowly tracing his jaw, and I kiss him so gently that his hand finds the back of my head. He hisses from the pain and presses me harder to him, his kiss deepening, my heart dropping a few skyscrapers. This feeling is irreplaceable.
“Ahem, ahem” Joe clears his throat and our faces part as if we’re being caught… and I guess we were, in some ways. Talk about a déja-vu.
Joe stares at us with something I can’t read, then his expression shifts to a quick, almost unnatural, inviting smile. “Hey brother! You’re up. Great! — Anyone hungry?” he asks, crossing his arms, leaning in the doorway. “Other than… that.” He waves at us, and my cheeks burn like a fire pit.
Liam stares at him with anger, resentment, questions… so many questions, but he doesn’t answer. I guess he doesn’t have it in him, and I don’t want him to be stressed while he heals.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I say coldly, and Joe nods and walks away. Whatever reasons he had to disappear must be good ones. I put my focus back on Liam, lean to kiss him again and play with his hair like a lullaby until his eyes close to as much peace as one can muster.
When I reach the kitchen, Joe is unpacking groceries. “You’re the one who left a baguette the other day?” I ask.
Joe stops mid-movement, his back to me, then turns around, his hands gripping the island. “Yes, a little touch to haunt you in a ‘I miss you kind of way’. He chuckles, opens a bottle of water and chugs some of it. I just stare at him, bewildered.
“Is this not serious to you?”
“It’s very fucking serious, Sara. I… I fucked up. Okay?” He braces his arms on the kitchen island, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks drained and pained.
“Were you the one stalking me?” Since we’re on a potential truth-bomb marathon, let’s get into it.
His eyes snap up to mine, “Stalking you? I was protecting you.”
“From what, Joe? From whom? What the actual fuck!” I can’t contain the rage bubbling inside.
“I wasn’t the only one watching you, Sara, but I was the only one protecting you.” The light in the kitchen draws heavy lines across Joe’s jaw as he digs his teeth into his lip, avoiding my eyes.
“By pretending to die?” I shout, trying to stay calm is harder than I thought.
Joe pounces in front of me, and I stumble back. “I did it for you. Everything I fucking do, is for you. For you.” He grits his teeth.
“I think you put yourself and all of us into a dire situation with the wrong people, and you didn’t know what to do.
Why, Joe? Why didn’t you talk to Liam?” I pause, studying his beautiful face, softer than Liam’s but breathtaking.
“Why did you abandon me?” I hit his chest, and he grabs my wrist, closing his eyes, breathing through his nose.
“I didn’t want to abandon you. I didn't... Damn, that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.” His hand reaches my cheek, and I move away from his touch.
“No. You don’t get to touch me. Last night was a mistake,” I snap, and his face contorts in pain, and a distant feeling fissures in me. Hurting him feels… it feels so painful.
“For what it’s worth, Sara,” he pauses, his eyes fixed on me. “I’m so sorry. I broke my heart making sure you’d stay alive.” His words hit me in the back of my throat.
“And you almost killed me with the grief you left me with. I survived a pain I never wish to feel again, Joe.” I can’t breathe, my words stuck in my throat.
“Do you love him?” His question is dry, tragedy in his eyes dancing with my own, staring back at us with what we’ve all done to each other, what we’ve survived and who we are… now.
“I…I…” I can’t find the courage to tell him that I do love his brother, but… I love him too, and he must feel the emotional storm rummaging inside me.
“I’ve always rendered you speechless.” He steps closer, his eyes meeting mine, tugging a piece of hair behind my ear, and my body shutters, his touch still so engraved in my memory.
“I used to be speechless out of admiration for a man I was falling hopelessly in love with, Joe. Now, I’m speechless out of the hopelessness you left behind.”
“Sara…” he whispers, but I turn away from him and the hallway blurs as I walk to Liam’s bedroom, my arms wrapped tight around my ribs. I feel cold, confused, and hurt.
Behind me, Joe’s breathing hitches, and when I look over my shoulder, Fiasco had already turned around back to Joe, choosing the ghost that had been haunting us over me.