I giggle. “It’s the grapefruit deep conditioner.”
Another deep inhale. “It’s so good.”
“You’re such a creep.” I playfully poke his side and pull back to see his gorgeous face. “Sniffing my hair like a weirdo.”
“I like your hair like this,” Rowan murmurs with a small smile.
“You do?”
“I like your hair no matter how you have it,” he says. “But this hairstyle, it’s cute—with the two braids”
“I’ve been trying new things,” I admit. “I feel like the curls always look the same tossed aside.”
“Your curls are beautiful.” Rowan smiles, capturing a spiraling curl between his fingers and gently pulling. When he releases, it bounces back up and his smile widens into a grin that is contagious. “I love that.”
“Hmm.” I kiss his jaw. “I think you’re just obsessed with me.” I kiss just beneath his jawline, brushing my lips down, down, down.
“I always have been.”
I leave a wet kiss over his pulse, scraping my teeth. His hand on my thigh tightens. “Natalia,” he groans. “You know this?—”
“I know,” I say, and climb over his lap to straddle him. “I can’t help it.”
He brushes his smile across my lips. “Me either.”
“How was your day?” I ask suddenly, his lips at my neck.
“Good,” he mumbles on my skin. “Yours?”
“Better.”
He flips us so I’m on my back, and everything is better. Everything is always better next to him. But this is a fantasy. This is me and him playing house before reality strikes us and it all crumbles.
#
I’ve never been religious. Never prayed other than making the occasional wish to help me on an exam or for a miracle of some sorts.
But I’m looking at this lush, extravagant altar with depictions of saints and stories of the bible, and I feel like falling to my knees and askingwhy.
I went for a walk this morning and ended up in the town’s church, and I don’t even know what I believe in or do.
I dream of standing on a cliff most nights, not to jump, but I stand on the edge, take a deep breath, and use everything I have to scream. I imagine the sound echoing through my skin, the sound combining with the echo of the waves, stretching on and on until it reaches the atmosphere and beyond.
The sound would reach the edges of the universe and it might just sound like I’m declaring war. And maybe I should declare war on the universe, make it repent and apologize for everything it’s done and ruined for me.
But what about the things it’s given me?
Good and bad don’t outweigh each other, I think. But sometimes they do. And maybe the million bad things aren’t so terrible when there is one good thing that turns it all around.
After all, I have good dads. As complicated as I feel, I havegreat parents who love each other, and me. I have an amazing group of friends that would kill for me the way I would kill for them.
And then there’s this one blond, golden boy that prances around with a boyish grin and hands out rays of sunshine left and right to anyone and everyone. But for me? For me it’s like he hands me the sun itself and says,“Here. For you, sweetheart. I’m giving you the sun.”Silly him and silly me because I’m holding the sun every time I hold him.
I suppose maybe, it’s an apology then. To have someone like him love me in this life. Or perhaps, even a reward for surviving.
Heels of someone’s shoes click against the marble flooring, the sound echoing off the walls and painted dome above. As each step moves closer, I don’t bother to check who it is, not even as two feet stop beside mine. My eyes track the figure, moving up and up and up.
And when I finally reach his eyes, I find myself face to face with an angel.
