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They took so many calls and had meetings with too many people. Part of me knew my life was overly packed, but I felt for them too. They grew up in the hustle of their business—a business I still wouldn't ask much about to make sure I kept my nose clean from the illegal things. I'd be foolish to believe they didn't move drugs or kill other gang members, but if I didn't know, I couldn't hold it against them. Well, that's what I kept telling myself. One day, I'd have to remove the blindfold and choose to love them for them or to not be okay with what they did.
So far, my heart kept leaning towards the first option because they were everything I never knew I needed. We enjoyed dates and good sex, and they gifted me with a shower of things that showed they cared. Draven's mother's library, Tony painting the mural of my spot on the river's greenbelt, and just knowing I'd need Kasey and my cat to survive the adjustment. My eyes had this habit of staring at them as we moved over the cobblestone walkways between the stone buildings. Right now, our path narrowed as Draven laughed from something Tony murmured to him.
The two of them kept an arm's length away, fearing the judgment of their love. I hated they couldn't be themselves, and I experienced it with them because three people together didn't work to the common eye. Some held the notion only a woman and a man could be together, leaving out gays and polyamorous relationships. I never held anything against them, but I never saw myself living within one.
Staring forward, a faint sound of music drummed in the distance. As we headed that way, I could hear it better and the people cheering for more. We couldn't see the entertainment yet, but we passed plenty of kindhearted souls along our path who just left the area we were heading to. So many were living under the blaze of the warm sun, basking in having the time to enjoy a simple pleasure of music, waving to their neighbors.
"All these people seem so happy," I listlessly sighed. My eyes kept drinking them in as they pleasantly walked by another with familiar greetings and compassion toward their basic human existence. Sometimes, I felt like people back home forgot how to have human interaction. Some preferred lives through technology while others just didn't learn manners.
My mom died right before phones took over the world, but I knew she'd hate the absence of love around everything else. For now, I'd celebrate her through the ones around me now by returning such attention. Their affection for each other boosted my morale for staying. Sleep helped rejuvenate my current state of mind, but kindness from others did too. There was just something about a shared smile that did it for me, and they understood it.
"They live simple lives, but they find joy in their hard work." Tony tipped his chin to someone after speaking. Everyone paused to take the two men around me in because they knew who walked among them. Some shied away in fear, but others bowed a little. There were no royal families here anymore, but Draven and Antonio had this air around them, suffocating the natural being to see them as near-gods.
"And we make sure to keep everyone funded in our community to feed our money into a thriving environment. An economy is only as good as it's poorest man." Draven stopped by a small flower cart, smelling some lovely arrangements. The woman knew him, meeting his approach with a wide grin. This told me he hadn't been lying. She knew what he'd pay for her lovely bouquets. "Yellow, right?"
For once, Draven baffled me. I'd never told him my favorite color, but he somehow knew it. Their devotion felt unreal, but I also knew it was on some other level. It felt consuming yet magical how often they paid attention to the lesser-known details about me. "How did you know that?"
"Sunshine, you wear a yellow coat. If you pick colors for flavor, it's usually lemon. Some of your favorite decorations are yellow that you point out whenever we're home or around the town. I'd feel a fool if I didn't know your favorite color after watching you."
Tim never knew my favorite color, but I left that sour note in the belly of my throat where it belonged. Both men just kept proving they were the real deal, and I couldn't comprehend how I ever put up with so little for so long. Yet, there was this hesitation, a voice inside my head that often whispered Tim once cared too. Would their love diminish once they had me for longer? Swallowing hard, Draven paid for the flowers before handing the yellow roses to me. I graciously took them from his hold and sniffed the centers, letting the petals blow into my nose to tickle the flesh. The floral scent awakened old memories of when my father would come home with fresh cut ones for my mom.
"Thank you," I whispered, settling in with the facts that these two kept carrying me. "My mom loved fresh flowers. These bring back good memories of her."
"Mine did too, so our staff always set them out when she'd visit each location for her to arrive with them waiting." Draven felt the same moment of happiness mixed with sadness. Memories were our last foot in the door to our missing loved ones, but they sent a sharp pang through our chest to think of. Looking to the sky, I felt that familiar pang and welcomed it because it meant my mother still lived within me.
"I don't even think my mother pays attention to the flowers in the house." Tony rubbed the back of his head. Unlike us, his mother still lived, but she rarely interacted with any of us in the home. Part of me wondered why she even came to stay when she'd only been a bother. She'd rattle on about how the house wasn't up to standard, and Sofia needed forced out of her room. She'd often snub Costas the most, and I hated seeing her treat him so poorly. She always referred to him as the help like his soul had been stripped along with his very being.
When she'd leave, I'd try to say something kind, but he'd reject my advances, saying he knew his place in this family. It hurt my heart. Mario called often and she opened her arms to him like he somehow held more power in their social class than Costas. Mario might've had the years under his belt, but Costas had the scars. Not a single person could deny his loyalty from what his body went through. Anger rippled through me, and Tony noticed.
"She's no one's favorite person, Emilia. I take no offense for your dislike of my mother."
"I just wish she'd treat the help better. Mostly Costas." We ventured deeper in between the taller buildings. It offered a sliver of sanctuary from the heat of the sun being tucked into the shade.
"I've asked her why she's so hard on him, but she's never given me a straight answer," Tony replied. "If I'm ever around, I don't let her speak to him like that, but if I'm not, I hate that he lets her degrade him. No one has ever earned my trust the way he has."
"I can see why. He might be quiet, but he's attentive," I agreed. My time with Costas felt similar to my time with them, but I didn't know how to say that without hurting someone’s feelings. It already felt unfair I gained two suitors who were okay with sharing. "He cares for you both more than I can even express. It's sweet to see your bond."
"He's been like a brother to us for years," Draven added. "We try to tell him he can be less formal, but his training with Mario won't allow him to be."
"Would you want to go against your father if you sought him out?" Tony asked Draven.
"So Mario is his father?" I gasped.
"No one knows for sure, but that's who he took to when he came here. It probably wasn't the reunion he expected, so we don't press him for details. We just make sure he knows he's appreciated. He's more of a brother to us than a bodyguard." Tony shrugged as we neared the open square. People were dancing and loving life to the rhythm of the bongos and guitar. Happy and upbeat sounds strummed for those dancing to keep the pep in their step.
Like out of a movie, I let myself immerse in their culture. My eyes devoured every sight as I watched how they moved as a group. The dances were learned and easily stepped like they had grown up in them. It made we wish my country kept these kinds of traditions. Some knew how to line dance and do a coupled group songs where the song said what to do, but nothing like this. I couldn't help pausing on the side to stick around and watch.
"Would you like to dance?" Draven offered.
"Oh, heavens no! I'd make a fool out of myself." Waving him off, I didn't want to speak about being riddled with an excessive amount of anxiety. My heart nearly leapt into my throat from the idea alone.
fifty-three
Draven
Hating that she felt too shy to do what she loved, I watched her body begin to lightly sway on the side of everyone dancing in the square. Looking down at her bouquet of assembled flowers, I smiled to myself before taking the lovely arrangement from her hand. She turned to see why I’d remove it from her hold.
“Then be the baby’s breath.” Letting my face fall into the soft petals, I closed my eyes and inhaled long and hard for the floral aroma to suffocate me. When I reopened them, I found her furled brow over her eyes that showed she tried to figure out my words. Grinning, I held the bouquet between us. “The roses are the stars with their yellow color and fuller look. It draws everyone’s eye to the arrangement, but it wouldn’t be as beautiful without the baby’s breath enhancing their worth. If you want to dance but fear being seen, be the baby’s breath until you’re ready to be the rose, Sunshine.”
