Page 75 of Melancholia

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so⁠—”

He turns my head up and kisses me sweetly, dragging me back down to reality. I whimper against his mouth and pull myself against him, still trembling. “Why are you doing this?” I finally whisper. “Why did you come find me?” My hands tighten. “I can’t do this anymore, Amir. I need to know what you want⁠—”

“You.” His voice is a hoarse snarl as he pulls away, and when I look up at him in surprise, his gaze is fever-bright. “How is that not obvious to you, my perfect girl? I want you. It’s always been you, ever since the first time I saw you.”

“I’m fucked up,” I whisper like it’s a secret. “It’s not fixable. You can’t fix me, Amir. I’m⁠—”

“Oh, my sweet girl.” He kisses me again. And again. Until I’m breathless and sagging in his arms. “I don’t want to fix you. You’re perfect as you are. My perfect, sweet mortician.” Gently, he pulls me to my feet along with him, still holding me in his arms. He only lets go to pick up his coat, which he pulls around my body to keep me warm as I tremble.

“Wait.” I stop him before he can turn, dragging him back. “Wait. Y-you say you want me. But you don’t know. You don’t understand what happened before.”

Amir searches my gaze, and whatever he sees there must convince him we aren’t going anywhere until I get this out. He nods and holds both my hands in his. “Tell me, then.”

“I had a twin. Elaina. Sh-she got sick when we were kids. She died. My parents couldn’t accept it. My dad left, but my mom—” I take a shuddering breath, and when I close my eyes, I can feel the first tears fall hot and wet down my cheeks. But Amir is quick to reach up to wipe them away, his hand lingering against my jaw and radiating his warmth into my skin.

“My mom said she had to stay. For me. Said that I was the reason she was stuck. But she started hating me, Amir. She blamed me for Elaina’s death.” A shuddering sob goes through me, and it’s so hard not to just curl into him right now, to hide my face in his shirt and pretend nothing else exists.

“One day I came home from school and she hit me. T-that wasn’t new. But then she walked to the balcony. She turned and looked at me. She said…”

I take a deep, shuddering breath and meet his gaze, unable to read anything in his honey-gold eyes.

“She said, ‘I wish it was you instead of her.’” The words hang between us, and Amir’s gaze darkens. Some part of me recoils, expecting him to hit me. “Then she jumped off the balcony. I couldn’t⁠—”

Suddenly he’s pulling me against him, crushing me to his chest. “Enough,” he whispers. “That’s enough, Nell. No more of this. You’re hurting yourself. Torturing yourself and expecting me to go away. I’m not going anywhere, my darling. Never again.”

“My dad died.” I can’t help but whisper. “That’s why I’m out here. This lawyer has been trying to call me.” My hands tighten in his shirt and I tug him closer, as if he could somehow get any closer. “H-he’s dead. He left me something, but didn’t even call to tell me he was dying.” Another sob makes it past my lips, and I let out a soft, broken keen into the air.

“What did I do, Amir?” I’ve never, not once, asked that question out loud. “W-why did they do this to me? What did I do⁠—”

Once again, I don’t get to finish. Amir kisses me. Hard. Until I’m breathless, gasping, and my knees buckle. He’s the only thing holding me up, and by the time he pulls away, I’m panting for air and staring up at him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.

And really?

He is.

“Enough, Nell,” he tells me. “You are done hurting yourself with this. Do you hear me?” His grip on my shoulders tightens. “Enough.”

I stare at him and give a few small, jerky nods of my head. He moves, and before I can register what he’s doing, Amir helps me slide over his back so he can carry me piggyback.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he murmurs, helping me do just that. He tugs my legs around him too, and without any difficulty, strides back through the trees.

Shadows dance at the edges of my vision, until it’s too much for me to keep jumping at the thought of what they’ll become. I bury my face in his shoulder, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart.

I don’t know how long he carries me. Only that, eventually, his steps stop crunching on leaves and start scuffing on asphalt. When he stops, it’s to set me down and bundle me into the passenger seat of his Range Rover before leaning down to gently kiss my forehead. “You’re all right, Nell,” he whispers quietly. “I’ve got you now.”

“I have to work,” I mumble, barely even aware of what’s going on around me. “The funeral⁠—”

“I’ll let Cecil know. He’s the one who called Hestia, asking if she’d seen you. Then she called me to come find you.” Suddenly he’s in the driver’s seat beside me, time blurring in the moments he isn’t the center of my attention.

Something feels off about that, though I’m not sure what. Something about Hestia calling Amir to come find me, when she only knows we’ve been on a date or two, makes the part of my brain that still works suddenly work harder.

But with his hand on my thigh and his heated seats warming me up better than being doused with hot water, I can’t think about anything other than here, now, and him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes drifting closed so I don’t have to look at the trees or what’s standing behind them.

“You don’t need to thank me, Nell,” Amir murmurs. “I will always be the one to come find you. No matter where you are, or if you’re simply lost in your own head.” His hand tightens on my thigh, becoming possessive, instead of just comforting. “You’re mine, my little mortician. Your ghosts can’t have you. Now sleep, all right? I’ll wake you up when I get you home.”

I want to protest. I’m not tired, and it’s barely noon, surely. But my eyes are just so heavy, and I want so badly to just…not be here right now.