Chapter 31 – Mikaela
Three Weeks Later
“Morning, Ella.”
I glanced away from the window I was staring out of to find Xavier at the door, a stack of books in his hand.
For the last few weeks, I’d returned to the broken soul who first came to Xavier’s home. Master hadn’t physically taken this baby, but having it literally torn out of me, seemed like something he’d do and maybe why I was done trying to accept happiness. Maybe it was never meant for me. During that time, staring out the window, reading books, and keeping to myself became a different version of the green room.
“Morning,” my greeting had none of his jubilance. As usual, I was too tired for anything besides being alone.
Xavier wouldn’t allow that, though. Since the night of the miscarriage, I’d been sleeping in his bedroom, and even though I hadn’t questioned his decision, I was fearful I was becoming too much of a burden to him. Still, he watched me like he feared I’d wither and die right before his eyes. Sometimes I woke to find him reading on the couch or the bed beside me. I wondered if he got any sleep. Yet he always looked fresh and alert and had a devastating smile ready for me. Maybe he was just good at hiding his tiredness.
Regardless of the gloom I’d retracted into, his care constantly stirred something inside my dead soul that I couldn’t recognize. I wanted to move. I wanted to smile. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to be happy. Just for him.
Still, I couldn’t.
“I brought you these.” He walked further into the room and set the books on the coffee table. “I thought maybe your favorites might make you feel better.” He spread them out then straightened to look at me.
Leaving the window, I drew closer, and whether it was the anger from having another baby snatched from me or the sight of the books I knew the devil himself had rewarded me with for my obedience and taking my other babies, I screamed so loud, it startled me as much as it did Xavier.
As my shrieks resonated in the air, my eyes stuck on the hands swiping the books from the coffee table and sending them crashing in all directions, I didn’t recognize the person unleashing her rage.
A calm settled over me when I finally quieted and stood back, breathing hard, staring at my shaking hands. Something so consuming, my body swayed, my vision blurred, and my skin quivered before my legs gave out, and I felt myself falling.
“I got you, love,” echoed in my ears, and darkness descended.
When I opened my eyes again, however long that was, I was in Xavier’s bed, staring up at the pretty white ceiling, shame washing over me. I disrespected the one man giving me everything I’d yearned for. As if my contrite heart summoned him, he appeared at the side of the bed.
“Feeling better,” he asked his beautiful smile in place.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His head tilted to one side, he studied me for a moment before he sat and reached for my hand. “What exactly is it that you’re sorry for?”
Dropping my eyes to the buttons on his light blue shirt, I searched my brain for the right words. “For screaming, for throwing the books, for...for causing you sleepless nights...for...” I broke off, swallowing.
His soft laugh drew my eyes to his. “Never apologize for what you’re feeling, love. It’s like saying I’m sorry I’m hurting.” He kissed my knuckles. “You’re allowed to hurt as much as you’re allowed to heal. And an apology doesn’t mean you did something wrong. It means you respect me and our relationship. Only apologize if you’re absolutely sure you’re wrong, okay?”
I nodded, once more surprised by how calm he always remained and knowing precisely what to say to comfort me.
Setting my hand down, he stood and pointed to the coffee table. “I want you to see something.”
Pushing aside the covers, I sat up, took his hand, and let him lead me to the coffee table. I stared at all the books laid out, and my heart flew into my mouth. “They’re...” unable to speak, I looked at him.
