“Fine. Do you like it better when I’m not?” He turned to his side, eyeing her dangerously as if he really could have her again right now to fill that quota. “Shall we go back to my first words? Kallias likes Daria,” he said, kissing down the side of her cheek and then her neck. “Very”—kiss—“very”—kiss—“very much.”
“Better than biscuits?”
“Maybe not better than biscuits.”
She teasingly smacked his chest. “Stop it.”
“I’m kidding. Of course, I’m kidding. You know I love you.”
“I do.” She inhaled deeply. There was a hint of sadness tucked in his beautiful eyes that was just not going away. Since he hadn’t mentioned it, she had thought she wouldn’t too, but now, it hurt her just to see it. She stroked back some of his hair. “Are you…are you okay? Today…”
He took her hand yet said nothing for the longest time. Then finally, he murmured, “No.”
She didn’t know a single word could break her heart so much, and she was throwing her arms around him before she knew what she was doing. “Oh Kallias.”
He held her tightly against him. “It’s okay. Or it will be, even if it’s not now.”
“You don’t have to be strong, you know,” she said, pulling away so she could look at him. “I don’t need you to be. You can cry or scream or…or…”
“I don’t need to cry or scream,” he said, though his eyes said differently. There was such sadness, such haunting sadness that it was only then that she truly realized someone haddied. Even if she didn’t like him, even if shedetestedhim, a life was still cut out, and herhusbandwas the one to have to do it. Because even if it was to protect himself, her, and Mr. Wilson, he had still had to drown someone—just like his father.
“You were protecting us. He attacked first, and he didn’t seem to care if any of us got hit or died and….” But it was still awful, wasn’t it? She touched his cheek again. “Kallias, I’m so, so sorry. If I had…if I could’ve…”
Now he touched hers. “And why would I wantyouto carry that burden?”
Because even though she was sure it would wreck her all her life, at least she didn’t have the related trauma; at least she would never have to wonder if she was just like her father, for her father was a man worth being like.
She hugged him again, tighter this time, with everything she had, and she hoped he could feel it. “You’re nothing like him,” she said. “Nothing at all.”
His body tensed at first in surprise and then, as his arms tightened back over her, it was then that he cried.
CHAPTER 101
She visited Mr. Wilson first thing the next morning, and the doctor again told her that as long as infection did not take hold—and that could be a big if—then he imagined Mr. Wilson was out of the woods.
But he was sleeping when she visited, so after staying an hour or two, she quietly snuck out, leaving only white bread and a note saying, “Thank you.” Others would take it as thanks for him defending her against Mr. Runington. He would take it for what it was: a heartfelt thanks for diving in front of the man she loved, for that was what Kallias said the man had done when the gun was drawn. Whether it was for her, for Kallias, for the notion of the sanctity of life, or from the natural goodness of his heart, she did not know. What she did know was that without him, she might have been the most miserable woman alive. Indeed, in saving Kallias, he had saved her.
As she left, the doctor again warned her of Mr. Runington Senior’s wrath. Rumor had it that he would come. She found she could not care less. Let him come. It was his son who was the one who should be ashamed. If he had any decency, so would he.
She stopped by Mr. Wilson’s place and cleaned up a bit—removing some moldy food, sweeping the floor, et cetera—and then she went once more to the bakery. She picked up a small cake—it was expensive too—with white icing and pink rose petals, and then she picked some flowers too. She put them in a bag so it would remain a surprise.
When she got back in the boat and rowed out far enough from town that she could no longer be seen, her mermaid popped his little head up. “What’s that?”
She wasn’t sure how he could even see it, but laughing, she said, “It’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Yeah.A present.”
“A present?”
“Yeah, for you. Well, for us.”
He smirked. “If I keep repeating what you say, will you reveal it bit by bit?” And he laughed as she blushed.
“No,” she said, almost petulantly. “You’ll have to wait.”
So wait he did. And when she got back, she had to first go to the lighthouse—she was almost starting to feel guilty about it, like it was a secret lover stealing her away—and then finally, when she was done, it was their time to be together once more. She grabbed plates and silverware and slid them in the bag as well.
