He’s been distant and quiet, and it’s hurting me. But I know that doesn’t make any sense at all becauseI was the one who was distant first.
After the kiss, I became so overwhelmed that I basically had an internal freak out and didn’t know what to do. So, I hid away from him.
Guilt washes through me because I know that I am the reason he’s being distant. I started this. He has every right to do the same thing to me.I just wish he wouldn’t.
It’s late, and I am sitting in the living room, snuggled up beneath a blanket with the twins while they watch an animation they’ve seen twenty times already. The movie has barely started, and Arron is already drifting to sleep.
My mind isn’t on the show at all. My mind is on Simon.
I wish I hadn’t pulled away after the kiss, but I know it was the right thing to do. So many old feelings resurfaced, drowning me, and I became obsessed with the fear that if I allowed myself to feel them, I would be setting myself up for heartbreak. I already lost him once. I can’t go through that pain again.
And with the situation as it is, how can I trust him? How can I trust myself to keep my distance from him?
He is still keeping us prisoner here, and I don’t know if he even believes I was never a spy for my father or not.
There are too many variables.
I stare at the children. Solenne’s eyes are dropping. Arron is passed out and deep in dreamland.
Another five minutes pass, and Solenne is sleeping too. I reach for the remote to turn the movie off so I can take them to bed and go to bed myself. The television goes silent. I stare at my children sleeping more peacefully than they ever have in their lives.
I have to make this right.
Even if I can’t trust my heart or the situation, I honestly can’t bear another day of this massive distance between Simon and me. At some point, it’s going to affect the children, and at least for their sake, I should try to make this right.
I scoop them into my arms and carry them to their room. Tucking them in as I try to think about what I want to say to him.
Quietly, I slip out of their bedrooms, relieved that they are still sleeping.
I close the door and go in search of Simon.
He’s in his office.
I tap lightly on the open door, and he looks up, grimacing when he sees me.
“Selene,” he says, his voice gruff.
“I..um… I wanted to talk to you if that’s okay?” I say, nervously stepping into his space.
He nods, pulling a face as he leans back in the office chair.
“What about?” he asks stiffly.
“About us. Um. About the tension?” I speak.
He scowls and turns his head away from me, staring at the bookshelves, and my heart sinks. He looks like he hates me. He looks like he loathes the very idea of being in the same room as me.
“Simon, it’s just that…” I start, but I notice how he shifts his weight, favoring his right shoulder and trying to hide the way his body protects his left.
“What’s wrong?” I blurt out, walking towards him.
“Nothing,” he says hurriedly, trying to spin the office chair away from me.
“Simon, what is going on? You’re hurt!” I demand, pulling him back to face me.
He groans when I brush my hand over his shoulder and feel the bandages wrapped around his arm beneath his shirt.
“What is this?” I ask sternly, and he sighs.
