On this occasion though, I had managed to get a hold of myself before he woke. He would know I'd been crying again, of course. He could always tell. But I wouldn't flaunt it. I never did. Perhaps this morning we could pretend it hadn't happened. I didn't have it in me to talk about it again. At least not yet.
I felt the feather-light touch of his fingertips as they grazed their way through my hair, making their way down my spine. I shivered, instinctively leaning into the security of his warmth. “Good morning,” he said, his throat raspy with the after effects of sleep as he nuzzled into my neck.
“Good morning yourself,” I replied, my voice falsely bright as I turned to face my husband. He pursed his full lips into a scowl as he caught sight of my puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks, his thick, dark brows furrowing. Even so, I thought, he was still indisputably good looking. His cheekbones were defined and strong. His eyelashes thick, his eyes a pool of rich chocolate. And under the thin sheets, I could make out the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders.
He was a big man at six and a half feet tall. Being only five feet and two measly inches myself, I had always liked that about him. I used to love it when he wrapped me in those massive arms, and made me feel like nothing could hurt me. These days, though, even he couldn't protect me from my pain.
“Rox...” he began, his voice deep and serious. I shook my head.
“Don't Lucas. Don't. Not today.” He twisted his lips again and gave me a long, stern look. Indecision flickered in his eyes. He gave a quick nod and pulled me wordlessly into his chest. I felt myself tense against him as he kissed the top of my head and sighed. Fearing his kindness would only make me start sobbing all over again, I cleared my throat and pulled away, hopping out of bed without meeting his eyes. I could feel his stare burning into my back. I wrapped my cotton dressing gown around my shivering body, pulling my thick dark hair out from under the collar as I headed for the bathroom. “Don't forget, we've got my sisters coming over for lunch today,” I told him over my shoulder.
“As if I would forget a visit from the Cormack family,” Lucas said, smiling, though it didn't meet his eyes. I paused by the bedroom door, looking at a framed photograph on the wall of my family from last summer. It made me smile every time I saw it, though I never failed to notice the empty space where my mother should have been. My younger sisters, Isabel and Bonnie were identical twins, yet their personalities could not have been more different. Isabel was introverted, sweet, and bordering on genius. We'd expected her to become a physicist, a computer programmer, an entrepreneur, or something equally brilliant and fitting to her intelligence. Yet, she'd surprised us all by choosing to go into social work. She'd actually turned down several promotions because they meant moving away from the personal, one on one duties with the families and children she worked with, to go and push papers around an office instead. Isabel had explained that no pay rise in the world would be enough to pull her away from the people who needed her most. I suspected she thrived on the drama and excitement. Isabel was at her absolute best in a crisis. She was down to earth despite her brilliance, and barely a day went by without us seeing one another.
Bonnie had a polar opposite character to Isabel. Her personality was nothing short of extreme. She was loud, flakey and possibly the most honest person I had ever known. She would say whatever she thought, no matter the consequences. Lucas had once told her she had no filter, to which she'd told him filters were for shifty people and at least he knew what she really thought of him. Thankfully, I had been informed, she liked him. A couple of her exes had not got off nearly so lightly. Though she could be wild and unpredictable, Bonnie was also the most empathetic person I had ever known. She could see right through pretence, right to the source of the pain. A skill she used often, and which proved more than a little annoying when I was trying to pretend I was fine, thank you very much!
As sisters, and as friends we were as close as it gets. Our father had passed away from cancer when the twins were just two. I had been four. And then, we had lost our mother fourteen years later. Now it was just the three of us left from our little family, and the losses had created an unbreakable bond between us. I turned from the photograph, facing Lucas now, and gave him a genuine smile, not the false happy mask I had been pasting on all week. “I know you would never forget,” I said. “Thank you.” He nodded as he watched me pick up my wash-bag and walk into the bathroom. I could feel his pitying stare burning into my back.
Chapter Two
I had washed away all traces of my less than restful night, and was chopping carrots and parsnips into neat little sticks to roast, when Bonnie strolled through the back door, placing two bottles of red on the worktop. “Hey Sis,” she said, coming up beside me, brushing a brief kiss across my cheek. “How are ya doing?
I turned and hugged my little sister warmly, smiling up at her. Despite the fact that Isabel and Bonnie were two years my junior, they both towered over me. I was what Lucas referred to as petite and buxom, though I thought of it as plain old short and round. The twins were a far more elegant five foot seven a piece and it gave them long slender legs I had always slightly envied. Their features were identical, delicate cheek bones, long wild ginger hair and pale green eyes. Very different to my own much darker looks.
My hair was thick, chocolaty and silky. Where they were athletic, I was hourglass. Where they were the image of my mother, I was clearly my father's daughter. I'd never had any issue telling them apart, but these days even a stranger would have no problem distinguishing between the two of them. Isabel's skin remained milky pale and unblemished, but Bonnie had transformed herself into a work of art. Her left arm was covered from wrist to shoulder in bright tattoos. Her back and right thigh were becoming increasingly adorned too. Flowers, butterflies and tiny pixies, sprites and swirls of colour, that on first glance looked stunningly beautiful. Yet if you glanced again, you would see something more. Hiding behind the pretty petals were demons with sharp teeth, beneath the wings of a butterfly you could just make out the hollow eyes of a woman's skull. There was death and blood hiding where you least expected to find it.
I often wondered if Bonnie realised quite how much her tattoos reflected who she was. The bright facade covering a pool of darkness, pain, suffering. It was hard to believe the designs had been unconscious.
Bonnie pulled back now, holding me by the shoulders, looking intently into my own blue eyes. “Roxy... No,” she whispered. “Again?”
I pulled out of her hold and turned back to the chopping board, picking up a handful of carrots, though I already had more than enough, attacking them with the peeler. I didn't know how my sister could always tell, but somehow, she just could. She saw through my smile instantly, my pain as obvious as a flaming beacon to her. She was the one person who I could never hide the truth from, and sometimes that annoyed me beyond all measure. I wanted to remain hidden in the shadows. I wanted to pretend, just this once that it hadn't happened. That I hadn't let everyone down again. I did not want to be comforted, to hear her words of sadness and sympathy.
I slammed a knife into the hard flesh of the carrot, beheading it viscously. “What are you talking about Bonnie?” I said briskly. “I'm fine. Everything's fine.” I swallowed thickly, trying hard not to cry.
She sighed and placed her hands firmly over mine on the chopping board, forcing me to stop my massacre, though I didn't want to. “Don't do that Sis, this is me. I know you, remember? You don't have to pretend.”
I shook my head and yanked my hands free, startling her. I could feel the angry tears brimming to the surface, and blinked, determined not to let them fall. “I don't want to talk about it.”