Page 57 of Pieces of Halves

“Are you okay?” I make my way towards him.

“Yeah.” His tone is too worn out for that to be the truth.

“No, you’re not.” I watch him rest his head on the back of the chaise.

“It’s the headaches. They are persistent,” he mumbles reluctantly.

“Is it getting worse?” I make my way to stand behind him.

“I usually have one once a year.” He sighs, keeping his eyes closed. “Lately, I’ve been getting them more frequently.”

My first instinct is to panic, but I am growing stronger. He doesn’t need to see me falling apart out of fear, he needs my strength.

“Here, let me help.” I place my fingers on his scalp and apply some pressure. A satisfactory groan leaves his mouth, and I smile a little. At least I can do something to help him. “My father might have records somewhere. It’s a matter of looking through the things he stole,” I say, watching his face.

“We’ll look then.” He exhales. “It’s a good start.”

Silence fills the room as I massage his scalp. I wish he would share more with me, but I don’t want to push too hard.

“Talk to me about something,” he says, his voice soft.

“What would you like me to talk about?” I ask as I move my fingers.

“Anything. Tell me something about plants or bugs. Just keep talking.”

I look down at his face. He is calm with hiseyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily. My mind is full of silly little facts, but when placed on the spot, it’s hard to think of something.

“Well, did you know that saffron is harvested from the stigmas of a type offlower-blooming crocus,Crocus sativus,” I start, and his lips curve up lazily, making my chest swell with something warm and beautiful. “They like to grow in dry and hot climates during the summer and cold temperatures during winter.”

I keep talking about the random things that come to mind, and frankly, I know a lot of useless facts.Idon’t think they are useless, but most people do. His breathing evens out, and his expression softens. Watching him, I wonder how he is doing with his mother’s death. She was not a woman with good intentions, but it must’ve been hard having to kill her on top of learning that she murdered so many just for power.

What if he doesn’t know how to ask for my help?

With my father and this new role, he threw himself into supporting me. I appreciate it, but I can’t be the only one talking.

Stepping around him, I move to face him and sit on his lap. Caging his hips with my knees, I proceed to massage his temples. He responds by placing his hands on my hips but keeps his head tilted back.

“Jacob?” I ask, my voice soft.

“Hm,” he mumbles.

“How are you?” I ask. “Truly and honestly,” I add before he gives me the same answer I have been getting over the last few days.

He can’t be okay. He’s been through a lot.

With an inhale, his chest expands. “Frustrated.” Holding me steady, he sits up. My hands fall on his shoulders, but I continue to gently scratch at the back of his head, the softness of his hair tickling my skin. “I want to be angry, but there is no one to direct it to. Sofia is dead and I can’t be mad at my father – he only did what was best for me.” He looks away. “I’m frustrated because I don’t know how to feel about her, and I don’t know howto deal with it.” He winces.

My heart aches for him. My pain is awful, but it is black and white. My father died, and the man who hurt me is suffering. It doesn’t make what happened okay, but it helps. His pain is grey, and there is no one to give him answers or pay for the hurt. Sofia is dead, but his disappointment in her probably hurts more. He may never say it out loud, but he had hope for her until the end.

He needs an outlet. Something to help him let go – free his mind.

“Then take it out on me,” I whisper before I even understand the words coming out of my mouth.

My knowledge of intimacy is limited, but I remember a few of the things Clara showed me.With the right person, sex can be a powerful tool, she told me.

He snaps his head to look at me, his eyes wide. Suddenly feeling foolish, I stare into his greens. Desire flashes in them before he masks it with a tender gaze. He is afraid to hurt me, but I want this – to be used for his release. The realization makes my heart beat faster, filling my core with heat.

“Izzy, I’m not sure that’s wise.” His voice is strained.

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