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He yowls again and finally peeks through the bushes, breathing heavily, and while his eyes study me intently, I still sense his sour mood.
After all, we have a tradition to spend every morning together, and I ditched him today. Not only that.
Brought a woman home and ordered him out.
My leopard is just like me. He hates to share, but I think we can work it out. “I know, I know. You can hold a grudge.”
He roars and then prowls toward me, smacking into my legs, and I run my fingers over his fur as he purrs. Despite my shitty evening, or rather, the reminder of the woman I wish to fucking forget, I laugh. “Did you enjoy the steaks Antonio brought you earlier?” He rubs his muzzle into me, and I pet him some more. “Life is good, isn’t it, Lampos?” He huffs, stomping his paws on the ground, and then freezes, his eyes becoming glazed while his whiskers twitch. That can mean only one thing.
Turning around, I see Isla walk outside, her dress almost shimmering in the moonlight, and the organ that’s just pumped blood in my chest contracts at the sheer beauty that’s my wife.
How the fuck destiny let me be this lucky and claim her as mine I’d never know, but I won’t question it either.
Maybe she’s my reward for all the fucked-up shit I had to go through in order to get here.
She’s barefoot as well and shivers a little. I take off my shirt when she comes closer, although she still shoots worried glances at Lampos, who stares at her. “I don’t think your leopard likes me,” she mutters and sighs when I throw my shirt over her shoulders. “Thank you.”
She shouldn’t thank me for anything. If my wife needs something, I’ll provide it. That’s the law I intend to follow for the rest of my life. “He knows you’re important to me, so he won’t hurt you. He never hurt Antonio.”
Lampos nuzzles into Isla’s extended palm and opens his mouth wide but stills when I say a firm, “No.” He huffs and yowls, stomping his paws some more before strolling to the other end of the garden, cooling himself down.
He loves the rain but prefers to hide in the trees when it pours. “This is a surreal experience,” Isla whispers and shakes her head. “Florian doesn’t like Antonio.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“When Wayne abused me, he followed his commands. He never physically hurt me, but he did nothing to protect me. No one did. His rage was absolute, and I guess everyone preferred for me to be on the receiving end of it.” Surprise and anger flash on her face, and by the stubborn expression marring her features, I know she now supports Florian’s point of view. “However, there was still goodness in him, and he helped me when he could. When Wayne was away or had manic episodes, he always took care of Estella. And that was my top priority.”
She swallows hard and exhales heavily, her fist clenching. “Was the abuse ever…” She trails off and swallows again, wincing.
“No. Physical and psychological but never sexual. He was a piece of shit, but not a perverted piece of shit.”
She stays silent for several moments and places her hand on my chest. I close my eyes as peace settles over me. Her touch always gives me the ability to breathe freely.
My obsession and cure in one, an addiction I knew I’d never let go of and tried to save her by staying away. What an idiot I’d been, as life without her is just an empty void.
And I’ve lived for such a long time in an empty void that I refuse to do it any longer.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I’m surprised she took so long after my sister’s lunch conversation to broach this subject.
After we played with the kids in the garden for an hour, Ryder and Estella had to go back because they had some work-related stuff waiting at home, and while the kids whined all the way, they promised to visit our boy as often as possible.
My sister smiled the whole time and hugged me while Ryder warned me to be careful and shared married life wisdom.
I flipped him off on the second piece of advice because the last thing I fucking need is my brother-in-law giving me pointers, our history considered.
He has all my respect and loyalty because he makes Estella happy and loves her madly. He’s still the man who corrupted my little sister, though, and then acted like he owned her and even threatened war in order to get her.
Yeah, I’m a hypocrite.
Do I care?
No.
After they left, we spent some time with the boy who dragged us around the house, exploring it, and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when I showed him his room. Some renovations will be done to make it to his liking, but he smiled so brightly my heart hurt.
