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“I didn’t know that.”
She lifted her legs up onto the daybed, staring out at the ocean. The morning sun glinted off the water, making it look as though thousands of tiny shards of broken glass were floating towards them.
“The irrational fear of darkness or night.”
“You’re afraid of the night?”
She half-smiled. “No, just darkness. So long as I have a small light at all times, I’m okay.” Her fingers tightened around the necklace. “It’s why Gray gave me this.”
Noah studied the enormous diamond. “A ten carat diamond pendant?”
She nodded, smiling. “When we were fifteen and we watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy for the first time. It’s supposed to be a play on Galadriel’s light. It’s kind of cheesy.”
“It’s not cheesy,” he responded immediately. “Does it help?”
“Not at all,” she laughed. “Unlike the real Galadriel’s phial, there’s no light of Eärendil’s star. It doesn’t actually glow when I’m afraid.”
“What exactly are you afraid of?”
She tensed, her features locked in a mask of pain, and he regretted having asked the question, but didn’t take the words back. Instead, he moved to her side and sat down, putting one arm over her flat stomach, leaning his face close to hers.
Her eyes flickered to his and he felt something strange and heavy lock inside his chest. He waited, close without pressuring her, quiet without moving conversation on.
“When I was six years old, my mother re-married – for the second time since dad died. Stepdad number one only lasted a year, I barely remember him. Stepdad number two lasted a bit longer. He was such a shit.”
Noah lifted his brows, silently urging her to continue.
“I mean, we were just kids and we desperately wanted him to love us – we were too young to know any better. He had such a temper though,” she muttered, and ice spread through Noah’s veins.
“He hit you?”
“Oh, God, I don’t mean a temper like that. He just used to yell, a lot. He was really impatient. We could never do anything right. And mum was either too in love or too preoccupied to notice or care, which left us bearing the brunt of his anger all the time.” Her eyes were glazed, as though she were reliving those times, so he wanted to lean forward and kiss her, to replace pain with pleasure. But his curiosity needed to be indulged first.
“I was six and I used to get scared at night. I was afraid of all the usual stuff – monsters under the bed, clowns behind the curtains, ghosts in the wardrobe, stupid, childish imaginings. And whenever I’d cry, or call out for mum, Nicholas would come and turn my light out and shut the door. The handle was too high for me to reach, so I was stuck in a pitch-black room, completely convinced that a clown was going to murder me in my sleep.”
Noah swore under his breath. “What an absolute jackass.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I tried so hard not to call out, because I didn’t want him to come and make everything black, but I was only six, and when I was scared, I just wanted mum so badly. I refused to let him see how scared I was; to let anyone see.” Noah lifted his hand, stroking her arm.
“I don’t know if I was afraid of the dark before that, or if it came out of those experiences, but ever since I’ve had to have a light on, just a little one. I’ve seen psychologists, hypnotherapists, anyone I could think of, and nothing helps. So, I sleep with a light and figure it’s not the worst thing in the world, right?”
“Definitely not.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. “I hate that a grown man did that to you. How long were they married?”
“Long enough,” she shuddered, bunching her hands in Noah’s shirt and drawing him closer. “I was so happy when he moved out.”
“What a dick.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you ever tell your mum?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t speak to him about it?”
Max frowned. “Not that I know of.”
“Why not?”
“Mum was so dependent on men. She defined herself by being desirable. It’s kind of sad to think she only saw her worth through having a husband. I guess she just didn’t want to rock the boat.”
“And still you think marriage and all that crap is a good idea?”
