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Her breasts aren’t the biggest but even in my loose T-shirt her nipples are beaded and stiff, and that makes me take notice of how hard my own are.
“If the baby is deaf, it’s all on you and that fucking app.” Christopher grits at Arabella with false rancour.
“That’s how you dropped it into the conversation? You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
“Wait. What? What baby?” Confused, Cassie looks between the two of them.
I had wondered why Arabella had been staying off the Champagne at all the recent events and parties, but a bun in the oven never crossed my mind.
“This one.” Resting her hands over her belly, Arabella smiles and when a strand of her fringe falls in front of her eyes, she blows it away again singing, “Surprise!”
“Oh wow,” Cassie smiles at her, unsure how to react. “Umm, congratulations?”
“Thanks!” Arabella chirps back and it’s the first time I notice that she looks a little different. Her tummy isn’t as flat as usual. Although she doesn’t look like she’s put on weight, just like she’s bloated.
She and Cassie head to the large L-shape sofa in front of the television and everything fades to normal.
“Is that why you’re getting married so soon?” Cassie asks.
“No, but I do want to have the same name as my child, and we were already going to anyway…”
Christopher and I look at one another. Our fight feels really awkward now and I’m not sure what to say, so I go with Cassie’s response, “Congratulations.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Gru
mbling in return, he then says, “Don’t fuck my sister over.”
“Make sure you protect her when you say you will.” I grumble back.
It’s as much of an apology as we’re going to give one another, but it’s enough that we both walk away. Christopher to the guest toilet and I to the en-suite.
I’ve got all the first aid shit out of the mirrored cabinet when she walks in. Hoisting herself onto the counter where I have the cotton wool, hydrogen peroxide and arnica cream lined up, she smiles, “Mr. Neat Freak.”
“I’m not a neat freak,” I argue, sighing because she sounds like my mother.
Just because I like things in order doesn’t mean I’m a freak. It helps me think clearer and I fucking hate mess it makes my skin crawl.
“Whatever you say,” looking up at me from under her long lashes, she smiles coyly, “Neat Freak.”
I’m about to make her eat her words when she strokes my face softly, her hands trail down my jaw, my neck and chest, until they’re flattened on my stomach.
Twisting them in my T-shirt, she nuzzles into my neck. Into that exact place where she’s left her mark, the same place that’s scarred from one of my father’s tantrums.
When her lips ghost the still stinging, freshly bruised skin, I freeze. I have no idea what to do with myself as my heart races and my body reacts to her.
Kissing up to my ear, she asks, “Why were you and Christopher fighting?”
Cassie pulls on my T-shirt, bringing me a little lower, level with her, and then her soft fingers are wiping at my face. She’s trying to clean me up, and fuck me, the tenderness and the intensity with which she’s doing it is staggering. It’s enough to make me fall on my knees at her feet.
I don’t think there’s a single soul out there that could deserve her, but of all the souls that don’t, mine is the least worthy.
I don’t deserve you. I silently tell her again and again as she tries to clean up the dried blood in vain.
There’s no denying that she lives in her own little bubble. Cassie’s so sweet and soft, but she has so much more strength and power in her than anyone sees. They mistake her quiet nature as weakness, when in fact, it’s what makes her powerful.
A fucking killer Queen, she’ll bury you with her kindness.
After what happened today, she’s still standing, still caring for someone other than herself. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s her way of loving too. If it is, I’m beyond fucked now.
