Refusing to lose him in this moment, I reached out and grabbed his neck on both sides, and I shook him. "You can’t do this anymore!” I cried, forcing him to look at me. “And I can’t go on, day after day, being with you, falling in love with you, and watching you destroy yourself!”—I could not see through the tears—“Why can’t I shake the feeling that the only reason you’re alive anymore is for my sake? To get me to some…safe haven we both know probably doesn’t exist? It hurts!” I yelled into his tortured face. “It hurts me every night I lie beside you and feel your arms wrapped around me and all I can think about is the day you won’t be there—I can’t be without you…you have to know this…I can’t be without you!”
Atticus traded sobs for anger, and he pushed himself to his feet. I looked up at him from the floor.
“Don’t you ever say that to me! Don’t you ever say that to me again!” He put his back to me.
“Say what?!” I cried out, my body shook with the words.
He whirled around at me, dropped to his knees in front of me, grabbed my face and shook me harder than I had shaken him.
“That you’re falling in love with me—never fucking say that to me, Thais!” he roared, and in his voice I heard the shudder of tears tap-dancing on his vocal chords.
“But I am!” I roared back, staring intensely into his anguished eyes. “I have belonged to you since the day you took me from that city, Atticus”—my shouting voice softened, but it never lost its strength—“I cannot change or hide how I feel. I will not. I am yours…and my strength, what there is left of it, is yours.”
“No,” he dropped his hands from my arms and fell on his bottom in front of me; refused to look at me. “No…” was all he could say.
“Yes,” I countered.
His head shot up.
“You’re not mine, Thais,” he said, “because you weren’t given a choice. If you had been, you wouldn’t have chosen me. You wouldn’t have fucking chosen me! Not if you’d known the things I’ve done…”
I moved closer to him, fitting my small fingers on his large ones, and unclasped them. Then I moved to sit between his legs. I kissed his lips.
“I don’t care what you’ve done. And I did have a choice,” I said and kissed him again. “I chose to trust you and not Naomi. I chose not to leave that room when you told me I could go. I chose not to pull that trigger when I put that gun in my mouth”—(Atticus trembled)—“I chose to leave the city with you, and I chose to trust your judgment with the family at the farm. I’ve chosen you every step of the way, in every breath, with every bit of my broken heart and my broken soul, and I choose you now, and tomorrow, and every day after it!” I ruptured with sobs.
Our red-rimmed eyes held locked on one another for what felt like an eternity.
ATTICUS
I wanted so much to say things to her, so many things, but my conflicted mind refused me any reprieve. The demon that had burrowed itself beneath my flesh, it screamed at me: She’s not yours and she’ll never be! You belong to me, Atticus Hunt; murderer, sinner, a weak man who could not even save his own family! Bastard, you belong to me!
I clenched my jaw and my fists and I screamed something indecipherable through my teeth; I felt the veins in my neck bulging.
But then something extraordinary happened, and I felt the weight of that demon lighten on my shoulders as Thais looked deep into my eyes, completely unafraid of me; as I smelled her natural scent, as I recalled the taste of her lips, the touch of her wetness beneath my fingertips.
“Please, Atticus,” she whispered with such anguish, “let me ease your pain. Please…”
A suffocating silence filled the space between us.
THAIS & (ATTICUS)
Atticus grabbed me and kissed me feverishly, pushing me down onto the mattress, driving open my thighs with one forceful hand. Ravenously we kissed, and I became breathless beneath him; every part of my body opening up to him, wanting him, needing him, no matter how roughly he might take me—I knew it would be rough. I cried against his mouth as he kissed me hungrily, (unlike I had ever kissed her before. Unlike I had ever kissed any woman before.)
One of his hands tore at my panties blindly, snatching them over my thighs and off my feet. Seconds later, his pants were off and I could feel his hardness so palpable between my legs that I gasped. I moaned into his mouth when he rubbed himself against me, pressed his length between my legs. And my hands were already clawing his back, my fingers digging into the flesh without breaking it, because I needed him and I would do whatever I had to, to make him take me all the way.
The weight of his body nearly crushed me, but I wanted it to. The heat of his flesh suffocating me nearly made me faint, but I wanted that, too. I never let go of him—I gripped harder as he drove himself deep inside of me, thrust after painful thrust. I clamped my shaking thighs around his body, wanting him deeper. Nothing ever in my life had hurt so much, yet felt so right, so good, and I sobbed quietly into the crook of his neck until I heard him groan and felt his body stiffen.
His hips reduced to a slow, hard thrust, once, twice, a third time, so deep inside of me I thought I felt him in my womb. His lips were parted and from them came his panting breath, hot against my neck. With my eyes closed I searched for his mouth, and he kissed me with so much passion and love that he never would’ve had to say he loved me for as long as we lived, and I would always know that he did.
He held himself inside of me. I could feel him there, still swollen, still needing me: my warmth, my body, the salvation only I could give him. And I opened my eyes and looked up at the man I knew I would die for one day, and my heart, as always, was full.
ATTICUS
I kissed her tears, and then I kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her neck, and then her mouth again. I slipped her shirt off and kissed her heart. And I looked into the eyes of the woman I knew I would die for one day, and my heart, as it always was when I looked at her and only her, was bursting.
43
ATTICUS
We laid together, Thais nestled in the crook of my arm, and we stared up at the ceiling where shadows from the candle flames danced, and neither of us spoke for a long time.
What have I done? What have I done…?
I hated myself for not being as strong as I needed to be for her.
“Thais?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Are you okay?”
She drew her hand up and placed it over my heart; my hand cradled her soft fingers.
“Yes,” she said.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“Atticus, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” I combed my fingers through her hair.
She kissed my chest.
“What happened to…well, what happened to you to make you hate yourself so much?”
I flinched.
I never told her. I couldn’t.
“Thais, I’m sorry,” I said minutes later, still combing my fingers through her hair.
“I’m not,” she said.
I was sorry for being so rough; I was sorry for only pleasuring myself; I was sorry for letting my demons get the best of me in the worst possible moment; I was sorry for everything.
THAIS & (ATTICUS)
“I’m glad it happened,” I said. I was, despite the soreness I felt.
I sat upright beside him. A familiar wetness, a feeling of being unclean, plagued me, and I tried my best to hide it from him. My monthly cycle couldn’t have come at a worse time. But it had always been fickle.