Page 135 of Lotus

A resounding grief fills the space between the stone walls as I pinch the rolled paper between my fingers, eyeing the offering with curiosity.

“Will you smoke a cigar with me, Oliver?”

I smile with an air of sadness. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Bradford.” I’m uncertain what to expect as he lights up the end of my cigar, embers glowing, smoke billowing, but when I inhale a deep drag, I sputter. I choke and gag, the taste making me feel nauseated.

Bradford lets out a sympathetic chuckle, puffing on his own cigar with ease. “It’s not so bad once you get the hang of it.”

“I will take your word for it,” I rasp out in between coughs, handing it back to him.

A watery grin spreads across his broad face as he murmurs around the roll of tobacco. “Happy birthday, kid.”

The smoke from Bradford’s cigar funnels around us, encasing us in the dense fog. It becomes so condensed, I can hardly see him, I can hardly catch my breath. My coughing fit turns into a frenzied need for air, a fight for oxygen as heat singes my skin and everything begins to fade.

I’m in Sydney’s bedroom again, fettered to the bed posts, hopelessly trapped. She is kissing me, and loving me, and refusing to let me go.

She is dying with me.

God, I can’t let her do this. I can’t let her go this way.

Sydney calls my name through the haze of smoke, the wall of death, and my name on her tongue is the only semblance of sweetness I can salvage amongst the debris.

“Oliver…”

“Oliver!”

I startle awake beside her, realizing that Sydney isactuallycalling my name. She is searching for me through the darkened bedroom, her panic heightening when her hand doesn’t immediately grasp me. Catching my breath and moving closer, I slink my arm around her middle and pull her flush to my bare chest. “I’m right here, Syd,” I breathe against the soft lobe of her ear, finding solace in the way she relaxes in my embrace. Her body heat soaks into my skin like early morning rays of sunshine.

All I’ve wanted to do is hold her.

All she’s wanted to do is hold me.

It’s been over two weeks since Sydney and I faced the flames together, and we have been inseparable since our release from the hospital. We were treated for second-degree burns and smoke inhalation, but the physical scars left behind from that night are far less dire than the emotional ones that are cut and branded into our very essence.

I thought I had experienced the worst out of life, being brainwashed and held captive in a stranger’s basement for over two-thirds of my life… butmy God, how wrong I was.

The worst moment was the look in Sydney’s eyes when she made the choice to end her life because she couldn’t bear the thought of living without me again. She made a conscious decision to die that night. To burn.

For me.

It’s a heavy, heavy weight—a boulder to my heart and a hammer to my lungs. It’s a knife in my gut and a fist around my throat. It’s hard not to sink in these dark waters with an anchor tied to every piece of me.

So, I hold her.

Every chance I get, I hold her, and I manage to stay afloat a little longer.

Spooning her tight, I curl a piece of her shorter hair around my fingertips, baring her neck to me. I lean in to kiss her favorite spot, right in between her shoulder and her jawline. It’s a magnificent arch cased in silken skin and a speckling of freckles that resemble the Milky Way.

Sydney doesn’t know this, but every time I kiss those tiny stars, I make a wish.

“Did you have a nightmare?” I whisper, splaying my fingers over her nude stomach, pressing her further into me.

She backs her rear into my groin when my tongue sweeps over the sensitive skin along her neck. “Mmm-hmm,” she murmurs, a moan following.

My hand travels higher, cupping her breast, and she wriggles, abutting my erection in return.

It’s fair to say we’ve been insatiable since we arrived back home. We made a promise to take things slow, to let our bodies and minds heal, and it was a promise we broke within seven minutes of walking through my front door, promptly christening the dining room table.

I hope it’s the only promise we ever break to one another.

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