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“Good morning.” I look up at the sound of her angelic rough voice. A combination of just woke up and hours spent crying.
“Good morning Rina. Can I get you anything?” She shakes her head and sits at the table, staring off into the abyss.
“What happens now, Dayton. I mean what do I do about Rory? Should we go over... go over... Oh God...they're gone. They’re gone and not they’re coming back.” This time, I do what I wanted to do last night. Picking her up, I sit her on my lap, wrap my arms around her and rock her back and forth, whispering how it is going to be okay, because I won’t have it any other way. Is it fucked up that holding her is turning me on? Probably. Do I regret it? Not an ounce. When a man is as in love as I am, nothing can make him regret his emotions. Now, I just have to wait a little longer. That should be easy... right?Chapter ThreeSarinaTwo Weeks LaterI wake up, arms stretching and body aching. Looking at the clock, I see it is seven in the morning. I try to wake before Rory, get breakfast cooking and have a plan for the day so that when she gets up, I can tell her what it is, which seems to put her at ease. For the past two weeks, since my parents have been gone, she has been anxious and a bit quiet. My heart breaks for her. Hell, for both of us. It takes everything in me to hold back the sobs when she is around. I usually wait until I go to bed at night to cry and ask God why.
We had the funeral a week ago and that was exhausting in itself. Rory cried the whole day, clinging to me like she thought I could somehow ease her pain. Hell, I can’t ease my own. Having to thank everyone, shake hands, exchange hugs, all while trying to look after Rory was too much. To be honest, if it weren’t for Dayton running interference when he noticed I was getting overwhelmed, I don't know if I would have made it through. He has been amazing. He has been helping sort through everything, he has been taking care of the bills and such since I have no clue where to start and he hasn’t left this house other than get us groceries since the day he told me. He literally went home, packed a suitcase and came back and has been sleeping the spare room.
The truth is, I have been more than tempted to slip in the bed with him and simply ask him to hold me. To take the tremors from my body and somehow, let the sobs melt into him so I can feel normal again. Silly I know, but I need this feeling to go away so I can find direction. So, I can see the road ahead of me and figure out which way to go. However, that would be inappropriate under the circumstances, so I suffer alone.
“Good morning, Rina. Need help with anything?” I turn at the sound of his voice, my face heating up, wondering if he can tell I was just thinking of me. The sight of him as he is putting on his shirt, his six-pack prominent and totally lickable.
“Uh… nope.” I answer, turning away in an effort to calm myself down.
“You sure.” His breath running across my ear, sending shivers through me. I swallow, trying not to moan at the proximity of his front to my back when I feel the slightest touch down my arm. Before I can stop myself, I roll my head back and lean against his chest. “You know I am here for you, right? You and Rory. Tell me what you need, baby.” Oh God. Does it make me awful that I want to tell him what I need is for him to make the pain go away. Any way he can?
“I need you to help me sort through my dad's papers and figure out what's next. I figured as his accountant; you would have access to everything. Right?” I note the hesitance in his voice before he answers.
“Yes. That’s right. I have access to some stuff. The lawyer at Cortero would have everything else.”
“When can I go and meet him?”
“Why don’t you give yourself more time, Rina. We have plenty of time for that. Let’s get you and Rory past the grieving phase.” I know what he is saying makes sense, but something in me is telling me he is hiding something. It could also be the worry and anxiousness inside of me making everything cloudy. Finishing up the eggs, I plate everything and right on time I hear her little feet pounding down the stairs.
