“They’re touching each other again!” Daigon shouts as he holds his hand flat against the side of his face to block us out.
Kane raises his middle finger in the air and tries to cup my cheek as he lifts his left arm. I hate the way his brows furrow when he doesn’t touch my face so I lean up to reach his lips and make sure the stub brushes my cheek.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Seraphim’s voice notes come through as soon as I walk into the home I share with my husband. Kane owns the entire building after Scarlet kicked him in the balls for trying to kill her, then returned half of his assets. It’s ours, fully safe since we have control of who enters and leaves. I remind myself to keep referring to Kane as my husband so I don’t laugh at our upcoming third and final wedding that I’ll be both conscious and consenting to, for once.
“My mom said I’m not allowed a drum kit, so you have to buy me it for my birthday because she can’t say no then,” my niece whispers as her mom says no in the background.
“Play this for your mom but cover your ears. Eat shit,Rubes. You can’t tell me what to get my niece.” I drop my phone and keys on the coffee table, tilting my head to see what Kane’s doing on the balcony.
He doesn’t flinch when I walk out or try to hide his phone as a woman says, “I’m fine.”
Looking over his shoulder, he smiles with glassy eyes then softly says, “Okay, crazy pants. Ready to meet Delilah?”
“Wait, will she be scared?” the woman says.
“Nah, you’re good.” He pulls me into his side, lowering his phone so I’m in view of the woman who’s wearing the creepiest mask I’ve ever seen. “Your face is uglier so keep it covered or I’ll have to kick your ass for scaring my wife.”
“Sasha, I’m assuming?” I ask.
“What a loser,” she snorts. “You didn’t see each other for years, but you’re talking aboutme? That’s pathetic.”
“Well, she asked the reason for my psychosis so I had to tell her about you.”
They talk like brother and sister who’ve known each other a lifetime. I suppose it’s expected, given the things they’ve been through.
Her smile peeks through the slit of her mask as she looks at me. “He loves you in a really pathetic way. Be nice to him and then bully him for me.”
“I will. Until you come back to do it yourself.”
She gives a weak nod then lifts her hand, waving bye before she ends the call. Kane wraps his arms around me, resting his cheek on my hair as he breathes. He’s spent months waking up in the middle of the night, thinking she’d died when she wouldn’t answer her phone.
I rub his back, hearing the crinkling of the second skin from a new tattoo, then move over a few inches. On the days when the memories weigh him down, he always disappears. He comes back within a few hours with a second skin somewhere on his body—a new bright butterfly inked on him.
The one on the center of his throat was the first and biggest. All of the others have been hidden, worked in around his other tattoos, but he refuses to talk about what they mean. After everything we’ve been through, I know if it’s too painful for him to talk about then I won’t be able to deal with it. So I support him in those moments. The heavy ones and the ones like now where he pulls back, smiling at me—he’s my Kane.
These moments are our reward for the hard ones.
We made a promise to always be honest with each other. Not about the small things like when he kicks ice under the fridge then acts like he doesn’t know where the puddle came from, or when I put too much salt in the first batch of whatever I make so I hide it at the bottom of the trash can. Or when he said he wasn’t going to be cheesy and propose to me at the Eiffel Tower but did it anyway at the busiest time of day because he needed me to say yes in front of as many people as possible.
No, we’re honest about the big things. If we’re struggling and we need the world around us to be still for a day.
Today isn’t one of those days because he cups my cheek then kisses each point of my face like he’s worshiping me. “I’m cooking tonight,” he whispers against my lips. “Get ready for the best cereal you’ve ever tasted.”
“The best cereal?”
“Michelin-star cereal with award-winning milk.”
“I’ve had some good quality milk from Ruby’s cows.”
“It didn’t have the secret ingredient.” He wags his brows.
“Did you come in it? That’s unhygienic.”
“No, thanks for the idea, koukla mou.” He leans over me to rest his forehead on mine. “I love you and I’m so immensely grateful to have you in my life. I love the way you make me human, how strong you are, how resilient. Most of all, Delilah, I love that you think I wouldn’t come in your bowl because it means I can still surprise you.”
He laughs and I fall more in love with him.
