Page 107 of Antiletum
“Because I think I already knew who you were, even before you showed me.” He takes another step towards me. “On that perfect day.” And another. “When we fell in love.” One more. “And you brought me back to life.”
Val is standing right in front of me now, and I don’t know if I want to scream or flee or fall to pound my fists on the ground while I continue to cry. I don’t know if I want to wrap my arms around him ormyself and weep in joy or sadness or shove him away. Slap him across his face and tell him he has no right. Not after everything he’s put me through. Everything he’s done.
Val reaches his hand into his pocket, bringing my voice back.
“Don’t!” I cry with a jagged, panicked sob, cruel knowledge hitting me at this second, knowing exactly what’s been hidden in there. The object I’ve been so curious about every time his hand gets lost to reach for his mysterious crutch.
Val doesn’t listen. He pulls out his fist. Unfurls it to reveal the little golden clasp I placed in his unwashed hair. Etched with faded dahlias, the flowers nearly disappeared with how he’s worn them away. And he doesn’t ask for permission as he secures it back against my head.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he says again. “I’m sorry for everything I did, when I learned how much you were hurting. All those years I stayed away, I thought I was keeping you safe. You weren’t safe. And I snapped. Knowing how they failed you. HowIfailed you. But it’s no excuse. I’m no better than them.”
Val’s hands fall on my shoulders.
“Don’t go,” he pleads. “Don’t go to the manor. Stay with me, Delaney. Choose me. It was always going to be you. It always will. Choose me again. Like we chose each other then.Right here.”
And that, that desperate request, I cannot stand, realizing that he’s right. That we’ve found ourselves in the exact spot where he kept my face between his palms and gave me my first kiss. Where we decided that we belong to only each other, just as he’s been telling me for months.
Where it all ended. And where it began.
“I would do anything for you, and I did too much. Ruined everything that we had. I know that. I fucked up. But I can do better. Ipromise, I can be better. Icanlove you the way you deserve. Let me. Let me try.”
My face falls in my hands, my shoulders heaving because I can’t breathe. Nor can I make myself leave.
“I’m sorry,” Val chokes, the apology heavy with much more than the distance of time. He leans forward, his spine, his posture crumbling. His forehead falls to mine, keeping us both upright, his face crushed against my hands where I fail to physically hold my tears inside.
“I’m sorry. I can do better,” he says again.
Rougher. Quieter.
“Delaney.” I’ve never heard a more pleading sound. Afraid. His hands on either side of my head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”
I can’t do it. My palms press deeper into my eyes. Willing him to go away. Leave me here and let me break.
He does no such thing.
Instead Val’s arms wrap around my back. “Please.”
His face nuzzles into my neck. And even though I can’t bring myself to look at him, to pull my hands away from my eyes and face this unkind reality, I’m weak. I can’t help it. Head tilting to the side, I allow him deeper into my neck, savoring his breath against my body.
Alive.
I can feel his lips moving against the rapid pulse in my throat as he speaks, delivering his regrets straight into my skin. “I’m sorry.” Hard. Angry. His fury directed at himself. “I’m so sorry.”
Val slowly slides down my body with his forehead against me, apologizing on his whole slow descent. He willingly rests on his knees at my feet. Touching me unabashedly because heneedsto be close. And I need it too. Just as much as I need him away.
Val’s arms lock around my waist, clutching me tighter than anyone has ever deigned to do before. Digging into my spine. Like if he doesn’t hold tight, I might float away.
His breath is hot through my dress. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me,” Val’s voice is muffled, buried into my stomach. “Please. Forgive me.”
My hands finally fall from my face to hang limp at my sides, unable to bring them around him like I want to do. To sink into his hair that I had wanted so badly to touch. That I now have, completely reserved.
He only holds me tighter, breath heavier against my body, his face completely lost to me.
“Don’t leave me, Delaney. Please. Don’t leave me. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
And at that, I raise my hands, holding them up before I do hit him. Before I clutch to him as desperately as he does me. It’s a harrowing moment. As my husband, the lost love of my childhood, cries into my stomach, begging me to stay after all his crimes, cutting me apart. I cry too. Loud and hysterical. I look up at the chipped and faded paintings of theNocturneon the ceiling. Silently asking why they would ever want to create life when life is nothing but pain.
The face of a barn owl stares back at me. Wise and knowing. Deep and soulful, and the sight of it makes me want to vomit.
