Page 68 of Guarded

I pull my hair into a high ponytail and strip off my pajamas. The reflection in the mirror stops me as I take in the fading marks running down the length of my body.

Ican do bad things to you, and you’re still my good girl.

Why do those words make me feel so powerful? I run my hand over my neck and down to my breasts. What if sex didn’t feel the same with my future husband? What if the sex I had with Nero was a rarity, and now I would be settling for ordinary? Would my body resent me?

Grabbing a towel, I tiptoe through the hallway and to the patio. The sun isn’t up yet, but it’s already hot and humid. The cold, still water looks refreshing. I look around to ensure no one is watching. Nakedness was still an awkward thing for me.

My Tia Ponciana used to tell me to leave something to a man’s imagination. She would fuss about my overly revealing clothes and try to get into my father’s head. Usually, Axel would back her up, but my mom would come to my defense. She needed me to be the best-dressed at every party so that people would think I reflected her fading beauty.

Removing the towel, I slowly walk down the steps into the pool. My nipples harden at the changing temperature. Holding my breath, I close my eyes and fully submerge myself.

Swimming always made me feel alive like I was one with the element. I dive to the bottom, holding my breath as long as possible before resurfacing up to the top. Stress falls off my body with each dive. After a few laps, the fact I’m naked doesn’t even phase me- I actually feel more at peace with myself.

I float onto my back and stretch my arms out. The moon stares down at me, welcoming me into its presence. I sway my head back and forth, my hair slowly moving with the rhythm of the water. I take a few deep breaths, close my eyes, and lay there in complete and utter silence.

No thoughts to weigh me down and no reality to face. I am just here in this moment, loved and accepted by the water.

That inner calm is soon interrupted by the chaotic splashes around me. In one quick motion, I’m dragged to the pool steps.

“Ari, fuck, are you okay?” Nero says in a panic.

I splash around a few times before I remember I can stand. I wipe the water out of my eyes, cursing at the stinging from the chlorine.

“What the hell, Nero!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” His eyes look briefly at my naked body, then back to my face.

I spit out the remaining water before I clear my throat.

“I was meditating!”

He walks to the pool’s edge and lifts himself to sit on the edge.“You were fucking meditating?”

When he stands, I can see the way his damp boxers cling to his muscular thighs. He wipes his face with my towel, and I can’t help but watch the water dripping down his tan skin.

“You were fucking meditating? In a pool? Naked?” Nero says again.

“Can you just sit down for a second?” I say, resting my arms on the edge of the pool. I sigh when I see he’s not budging.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you Nero, this was just one of those things on my list. I couldn’t sleep, and I had a lot of anxiety, so I came out here.”

It was the truth, and I was always truthful with Nero. He walks to the edge by me and sits down. His body is still rigid even as he lowers his legs into the water.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he says, splashing me playfully.

“I won’t,” I promise and watch as his body relaxes.

“I hate water,” he whispers, looking away from me and watching the night sky.

I wait because I can feel it. Something caught there between us. Something he wants to free from his consciousness. When he looks back at me, his gaze traps me in his, but it’s the words he says that stab me in my soul.

“My mom used to hold me underwater as punishment.”

My chest tightens, and I push down the emotions rising in my throat. The thought of an innocent child- this man- as an innocent child, enduring that type of abuse. I look away, embarrassed. I’m so stupid for triggering these memories.

“I’m sorry.” I apologize, my voice cracking.

It’s the vaguest response I can offer without breaking down and sobbing. A tiny piece of information that he was willing to give me. Enough to know there was trauma at the surface of who he was.

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