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“What is wrong with you?” he asked.
I shoved him again and his lower legs hit the edge of the couch. He was close to toppling over. So I shoved him again. He grabbed my wrists and snarled.
“Have you lost your mind?” he growled.
“Yes, yes, I have. I’m losing it here and you’ve abandoned me. You’ve mentally checked out.” I tugged at my wrists, but he held them tight. “How dare you?”
His hold softened, as did his expression. “Emilie.” He said my name softly and slowly, like a prayer. Like a desperate plea. “I’m still here.”
“You’re not. You’re not here. Not really. Not like I need you to be. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
“I’m here,” he repeated. Then he brushed a thumb over my cheek and I realized I’d begun to cry. My breath hitched, and I attempted to retreat again. This time, he let go and allowed me to take a step back.
He stared at me with a look that felt too invasive. I was vulnerable, completely naked, even though I still had all my clothes. I tugged at my sleeves uncomfortably. I needed something to shield myself from that look. From that gaze that could see every bit of my heart and soul. The things that terrified me and the things I desired. I wasn’t ready for him to see it all.
Ladon looked at the floor, seeming to contemplate something. Then his eyes returned to me. “Tell me something honest, Emilie.”
I sniffed and shook my head. My eyes still burned with fresh tears. “What do you want to know?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His voice was hoarse. “When I touched you, what was going through your head?”
My breath halted altogether. My heart ceased its beating. I was certain my chest was red as could be underneath my shirt. Thank the gods this top had a high neckline.
“No,” I said.
“No?”
“Ask me something else.” How could I answer that question when I was still trying to sort through my feelings myself? What if I told him I’d wanted more of him? Would he mock me? What would that mean if I wanted him? That I was a sick person? That I’d betrayed Cyrus, precisely like Ladon had expected me to? Was it a trick?
“I’ll tell you what I was thinking,” he said, taking a step forward. I stepped back again, maintaining the distance between us.
“Please, don’t.”
He stilled, and I thought a look of disappointment darkened his face. Surely, I’d imagined it. “Right,” he said.
He idly played with the sponge in his hands before turning back toward his task. Kneeling to the ground, he began to scrub again. I took that as my sign to return to work, too. This conversation was over, and we were no better off than when we’d started. I still felt isolated…deserted.
“I used to paint,” he said, and I paused. “When I was younger, after my father died. My mother and mind healer had encouraged it. I’m not very good at expressing myself. I keep a lot of things bottled up. Mum says I’m a lot like my father in that way. Art was my outlet.”
He sighed and tilted his head toward the sky. “What I mean to say is that I haven’t abandoned you, Emilie.”
I watched as he turned to face me again, looking utterly defeated. Tortured, even. I had to fight the urge to kneel beside him and wrap him in a warm embrace. My breathing was shallow as I waited for him to continue.
“I have no intention of ever leaving you. You and me…we are in this together. I’m sorry if I’ve let you feel otherwise.”
I knew his confession couldn’t have been easy for him. I mustered the courage to tell him something honest in exchange for what he’d given me. “I was thinking…I was thinking that I wish Reyna weren’t in the room. I was thinking that I wished it was real.”
Immediately, I questioned my sincerity. If Ladon would throw it in my face and use it against me. But he blinked a few times, his mouth parted slightly. I thought I saw a tinge of pink stain his cheeks. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Falling asleep that night was harder than it had ever been. There was something freeing about confessing to Ladon. About laying it all bare for him. There was also something terrifying about it, and that was what kept me up.
He hadn’t scoffed at me. Hadn’t told me that I was sick or twisted. He hadn’t reprimanded me either. I thought…I thought he might’ve felt the same. It was confusing and my mind wouldn’t stop racing.
I also couldn’t stop thinking about the arm around my waist. Ladon had fallen asleep with his chest pressed against my back, keeping me warm on a particularly chilly night. It was as much for his benefit as it was for mine. Body heat was the best way to ward off the cold air.
I didn’t stop him when he draped his arm over me and pulled me in tighter. In fact, I might’ve nestled in closer, relishing every touch we shared. Every point of contact sent energy coursing through my veins. Delightful to experience, but terrible for trying to sleep.
When I finally did fall asleep, my dreams were even more tormented. Reyna haunted every single one of them. Over and over, she taunted me. Made sure I knew how insignificant I was.
