Why not?
If anyone deserves my effort, it’s her. It’s the least I can do after all the pain I caused her. I’m grateful that she gave me a chance to win her back. I’m grateful that she invited me into her room. I needed this. I needed the comfort and peace that she gives me.
Finishing my hot chocolate, I put the cup aside and stretch my legs, placing my hands at my sides. I dare to look at her, and she’s still blowing on what’s left of her drink. I guess it’s warmer for her than it was for me, I was so cold when I drank it.
Taking advantage of her distraction, I slowly observe her. Her pajamas are one of those onesies that have a zipper in the middle and a hood with little ears. She must look adorable with the hood covering her head. Her hair is in a messy bun that looks tousled as if she’s tossed and turned a lot.
Couldn’t sleep, huh?
Inevitably, my eyes fall on her face, and linger on her lips, which are half-open as she blows her hot chocolate again.
I want to kiss her. To feel her against me.
It feels like it’s been forever since I last tasted her lips, and it’s only been a week. As if sensing my gaze, Raquel turns to me.
“What?”
I want you so bad. I want to hold your face in my hands and kiss you, to feel your body against mine.
I shake my head slightly. “Nothing.”
She looks away, and a blush colors her cheeks. I love the effect I have on her because she has the same effect on me, if not stronger. I can’t touch her. She let me in here, and I can’t scare her away now.
I sigh, listening to the raindrops hitting the window. I feel so much better now. Just having her by my side makes me feel better.
I am so fucked.
I feel her hand on mine on the carpet, and the warmth of her skin fills me and comforts me. I don’t dare to look at her because I know that, if I do, I’ll be close to losing control and begging for her kisses.
With my eyes on the wet windowpane, I say it.
“My grandfather is hospitalized.”
For a second, she says nothing.
“What happened?”
“He had a stroke and passed out in the bathroom.” My eyes follow a raindrop slowly sliding down the window. “It took the nurses at the retirement home two hours to notice, to find him unconscious, so we don’t know if he’ll wake up or if there will be any aftereffects.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry, Ares.”
“Two hours . . .” I mutter, feeling a lump forming in my throat, but I swallow hard. “We should never have let them take him to that retirement home. We had enough money to pay for a nurse to take care of him at home. He was fine at home. If he had been at home, this shit wouldn’t have happened.”
“Ares . . .”
“We should have fought the decision. We were fucking cowards. Of course, my uncles wanted him to go. I’m sure they were crossing their fingers that he would die there so they could claim his inheritance. My uncles, my cousins . . .” I make a sweeping gesture with my arm. “They disgust me. You have no idea what money can do to people. My father was the only one who decided not to live off my grandfather’s money. He accepted money to start his business and when he became successful, he paid my grandfather back. I think that’s why my grandfather was always closer to us. In a way, he respected my father.”
Raquel caresses my hand in a soothing way as I continue.
“My grandfather loved us so much, and we let them take him to that place. And now he’s . . .” I take a deep breath. “I feel so guilty.”
I look down. Raquel moves and sits on my lap. The warmth of her body caresses mine and her hands hold my face, forcing me to look at her.
“It’s not your fault, Ares. It wasn’t your decision. You can’t blame yourself for what other people did.”
“I should have fought more, done more.”
“I know that if you had found some other option, you would have taken it. You’re not going to achieve anything by tormenting yourself this way. Now we just have to wait and have faith that everything will be all right . . . that he’ll be all right.”
I look her straight in the eye.
“How can you be so sure?”
She gives me a sincere smile. “I just know. You’ve been through a lot; I think you deserve a break. Your grandfather is going to be fine.”
Unable to control myself, I pull her to me and hug her, burying my face in her neck. Her scent calms me. I want to stay like this. She lets me hold her and caresses the back of my head.
It’s liberating to tell someone how you feel, letting it out takes some of the weight off your shoulders, like you’re sharing the pain. I take a deep breath, burying my face even further into her neck.
I don’t know how long we stay like this until she finally pulls away from me, still on my lap. I want to protest, but I don’t. Instead, my fingers gently trace her face.
“You’re so cute,” I say, watching her blush.
The back of her hand caresses my cheek.
“You’re cute too.”
A pleasant sensation fills my chest. So this is what it’s like to be happy. This moment is perfect: the rain beating against the window, her hand on my face, our eyes having a conversation so deep that words could never match it. I never thought that I would have something like this. I thought that love was an excuse to let someone else hurt you. Yet here I am, letting her in, and my fear has diminished, overshadowed by this warm feeling.
I lick my lips, observing every detail of her face. I want to memorize it, so that when she’s gone, I can remember her. The sound of the rain mixes with her soft breathing, and my heartbeat echoes in my ears. I open my mouth and say it before I even finish thinking about it.
“I love you.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and her hand stops on my cheek. I know she wasn’t expecting it because I wasn’t either. The words were out of my mouth before I could control them. She lowers her hand, hesitation and indecision clear on her face.
“It’s okay, don’t feel pressured to answer me,” I assure her, faking a smile. “The last thing I want to do is pressure you.”
“Ares . . . I . . .”
I take her face and lean into her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then moving closer to her ear.
“I said it’s okay, Witch.” My breath on her skin makes her shiver, and I enjoy it.
When I pull away, she still seems hesitant, squirming against me, and I give her my best smile, squeezing her hips.
“Don’t move so much, there’s a limit to what I can handle.” The blood rushes to her face, and she looks down.
“Pervert.”
“Beautiful.”
She looks at me again, red as a tomato, and stands up. My thighs feel cold without her closeness. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s like I’m desperate for her attention and affection. Who knew that I’d be begging a girl and telling her I love her without getting an answer.
I snort, laughing at myself.
I remember Raquel’s words that night at Artemis’s bar after she turned me on and left: Karma is a bitch, Greek God. Oh yes, it is. Raquel picks up our cups from the floor and sets them on the computer table before she turns and gives me a quizzical look.
“What are you laughing at?”
“At myself,” I say openly, standing up.
“It’s late,” she whispers, crossing her arms over her chest. I feel her becoming defensive, careful even, and I can’t blame her. She’s afraid I’ll hurt her again.
“Do you want me to leave?” I’m surprised by the fear in my voice. She just looks at me without saying anything, so I clear my throat. “It’s okay.” I walk to the window and see that the rain has stopped, but it’s still drizzling.
“Ares. . . . Wait.”
I turn to her again, she’s leaning on the computer table, her arms still crossed over her chest.
“Huh?”
“You can . . . stay,” she says softly. “But no . . .”