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Her belly must be empty because the retching stops, and she sniffs a few times. “What do you need?”
“I want to rinse my mouth.”
“Done.”
I scoop her up and carry her to the bathroom, setting her on her feet in front of the vanity. I can’t let her go and stand behind her while she brushes her teeth and gargles with mouthwash.
Not once does she look at me in the mirror. Her focus remains on her actions until she’s finished. I slide my hand to her chin and lift her head. She squeezes her eyes shut, unwilling to face me.
“I can’t do what you want. I’m sorry.”
Damn. We’re the ones breaking her, and she’s the one apologizing. “It’s too much too fast. I know that.”
She nods. Grateful she’s giving me some hope, I continue. “Can I ask you to do one thing?”
Finally, her bloodshot eyes open from my request. “What?”
“Don’t make up your mind yet. Just think about it. We both care about you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I lose her gaze but she’s pondering what I said. Thank fuck she’s not shut down completely.
“Okay, I’ll think about it. But I’d like to be alone for a little bit. I’m exhausted and want to sleep.”
Emotions have taken their toll on her and despite every fiber of my being wanting to say no, I know if we stay here, she’ll be on edge the entire time. She needs a respite from the intensity. “Okay. We’ll go for a little bit. I’ll bring you back dinner.”
“Thank you.”
I kiss the top of her head and after a long embrace, I step back. Of course, my Dad steps in the space between us.
“Get some rest little one. We’ll figure this out. I swear to God, we’ll make you happy if you let us.”
He gently turns her around and kisses her forehead. When she doesn’t respond, he sighs and follows me out to the front door. It’s going to be a long afternoon.
Seraphina
As soon as the front door slams shut, I sag against the vanity. The marble is cold under my palms, and I realize how hot I am despite my chills.
I’m not ill but I feel like it. My body nor my mind can handle their crazy idea.
We cannot be in a relationship all together. That’s not how love works. Is it?
I trod to my bedroom and tug off my boots. All I want to do is crawl into bed.
The bed Balthazar bought me.
The bed Balthazar made love to me.
The bed where Balthazar may have put his baby into me.
The thought swirls emotions I can’t handle. But there’s nowhere else to go.
His sofa.
His kitchen table and chairs.
I have no choice but to climb on the mattress and snuggle in. He’s not a liar. All he’s done since I’ve met him is take care of me.
Filling my fridge.
