I walk to my room and lock myself in it.
The rest of the day goes by uneventful, silent and dull. Giving me, or should I say us, a lot of time to think about what happened. I don’t dare come out of the room.
I know, I’m a coward.
I can hear Bruno moving around the kitchen area— he’s getting ready to start dinner, or should I say, ‘open the fridge to check the contents and then come and ask me if I’d like anything from there.’ But for some reason, not today; he’s not coming to ask. His reason is probably the same as mine.
I find myself asking the same question, over and over: What could his answer be?
A flash of light enters through the bedroom window and bounces off every wall, lighting it whole. Then, I start hearing one… no, two… thousands of raindrops. The storm takes both me and the house by surprise. This rainstorm is perfect. I always thought that the human being doesn’t fully appreciate the beauty of it. I stand up and leave the bed behind to go to the window. The view is incredible and even with this full-on storm, only a few drops are running down the glass.
When I was a kid, my dad and I used to bet which of the drops would reach the bottom of the glass first. I could never choose the right one. Another lightning lights up the place, and I see my reflection on the glass. But that’s not the only thing I see— a dark silhouette stands behind me. It’s Bruno, he’s watching me like a predator; only this time I’m not afraid, I actually want him to watch.
“There’s gonna be a funeral service,” he says quietly. “I thought maybe you’d wanna go.”
I look up. I can’t see his eyes in the reflection, but I don’t have to— I know there’s regret in them.
“I’d like to go.”
“Okay. But first, you gotta commit to my terms,” he claims. “You cannot, and I repeat,cannot, show up as Cassandra under any circumstances. That means that you don’t get to take part in any of it as a family member. You’ll keep a reasonable distance and where I know I can keep you safe. If Leon is looking to hurt us, he’s probably gonna try at the cemetery.” I nod. His tone compels me to obey. The third flash with its thunder makes my body jump on the spot. Even though he got the answer he wanted, he’s still standing behind me in silence. But my gaze is not on him. I’m looking beyond the reflection on the glass. My eyes lie upon the backyard, watching the leaves move in a spiral under the angry wind, the grass soaking under a dark night.
But he’s still here.
He clears his throat.
“I, uh… I think I’m not good at these things, Sarah…” he confesses shamefully. “I just… need you to tell me what to do,” he begs…
His begging tone is completely different from his bossy one. And yet, it compels me just the same. I don’t reply, or shake my head to answer his call for help.
He grazes my shoulder as if he expects me to remove it or at least to move away from it, but I don’t. I’m wearing a tank top and I already know I might be showing more skin than I should, but feeling his touch is priceless. He starts to caress me by moving his thumb, just a little, slowly and steadily, until he reaches my shoulder scars. He’s using his palms now to navigate through them, analyzing them, as if this were the first time he sees them.
I’m not moving yet.
I close my eyes because I don’t want to see what he’s going to do, I just want to feel it all. Plus, seeing my reflection on the glass makes me blush.
He steps forward to get closer.
He dares to kiss my back, working his way up from my shoulder blade. His lips are warm and gentle over my skin. He keeps kissing, only to make me realize I was wrong— he’s not kissing my back, but my scars, one by one, like somehow he’s trying to heal them. I finally open my eyes and find him on the reflection, still kissing me softly but watching me. His eyes are asking the question, ‘Should I stop?’
I say nothing. Instead, I answer with another question by closing my eyes, tilting my head back and to the right, exposing my neck: ‘What do you think?’
He acknowledges fast, pulling the tank top strap to the side and kissing from the shoulder towards my neck. Adrenaline shoots through my body.
I’m feeling hot and worried, happy and fearful. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it.
“Push him away! Now!”Life yells. She has a front seat in this rollercoaster, and she doesn’t like it.
No, stay out of this.
He kisses the back of my ear and crouches.
He kneels behind me.
His hands lift my tank top, revealing my lower back. His lips are close to my skin, I can feel his breath against it. He’s having a closer look at that area, and the anticipation is killing me. He kisses once and waits, confusing me in the process. At first, I hated that, but now I’m loving it.
I’m slowly losing myself in him.
Like I always knew it would happen.
