Page 80 of Unfulfilled Promises
My attention had been focused out the side window, not thinking about anything but feeling everything. Since Waylon, I’d felt a tremendous amount of guilt, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Looking at Seth, I answered honestly, “I wish we could’ve done more.” I paused and said, “Maybe I could’ve done more.”
“Baby, you can’t blame yourself for any of this. Waylon lived every minute of his life in the shadow of a monster, and with that fear no longer looming over his head, he couldn’t take whateverwas happening up here.” He tapped his index finger to his temple. “You couldn’t have saved him.”
Sighing, I admitted, “I know. I just wish we could’ve saved him from himself.”
He kissed the back of my hand. “Let’s get Edgar fed so we can get to the luncheon.”
I nodded, and he turned off the vehicle and we got out. Moving to the front door, he unlocked it and I stepped inside.
Meowrrr.
I squatted as Edgar walked up to me, vocally demanding scratches. “Hey, buddy.”
Seth walked by and shook his head as he rolled his eyes, and I smiled up at him. Edgar’s bowls were on a mat on the kitchen floor, but the sweet cat wouldn’t leave my side as Seth filled them with fresh water and food. He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and watched me pet the cat that hates everyone.
“I feed you, you fuzzy butthole,” Seth scoffed, and I chuckled as I gave him one last chin scratch before standing up.
The cat rubbed himself against my feet before turning and walking to his bowls. He hissed at Seth when he pushed away from the counter, and the look Seth gave me was comical. He seemed offended the cat gives me love when all he gives him is bleeding wounds.
I walked up to Seth and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I gently kissed his soft lips. After Ricardo took me from Lucian’s house, I decided to go back into therapy, and lately, I felt more emboldened to move things along with Seth.
But today wasn’t the day.
Tomorrow, he and I were going on a mini vacation. Just the two of us at the beach for four days. I hoped a change of environment would help move things along with us, but Ino longer feel guilty if it doesn’t. My therapist explained some things to me that enabled me to talk to Seth in general. Those conversations led us to the better place we were in now, and the biggest thing I’ve come to understand.
There wasn’t a clock on intimacy. I loved Seth, and he loved me. There was plenty of time, and that was enough for now.
“We need to get going,” he remarked as he pulled back from the chaste kiss. “We can pick this up tomorrow.”
Smiling, I felt his hand slip into mine, and as we walked to the door, he turned to Edgar and said something that caught me completely off guard. “I’ll be back later, little one.”
It wasn’t something he’d ever said before, and it immediately pulled me back in time to a memory that demanded to be remembered.
“Say it again, little one,” Sergey requested, and I wanted to roll my eyes but wouldn’t dare openly disrespect him.
“Cayman eleven zero eight, sixty-three forty-seven, fifty-one fifty-three, eighty-two double zero.”
He reached over and lifted my chin with his hand as he praised me. “Good job. You’re my most trusted asset.”
Smiling, I tried to find the silver lining in this situation, but every day it was getting harder. Remembering these numbers made him happy, and the happier he was, the less I worried about him rescinding his promise of protection. And this was the fourth set he wanted me to remember. It was getting ridiculous, but every day, I repeated them to him.
“I’ll be done late this evening, and they said we’ll be relocated in a few days, so start gathering your things.”
Nodding, I waited for whatever else he felt like telling me. Lately, he seemed to be revisiting the past, speaking of his family, the old country, and occasionally, one of his children. The ones he said tried to destroy him. The ones no one believed were still alive.
A knock sounded into the room, and he glanced over at me. “Make sure you get some sunlight today.”
Standing, he walked to the door and pulled the lapels of his suit jacket down as he adjusted his red tie. After he was appeased with his appearance in the mirror’s reflection, he opened the door to the room, looked over his shoulder, and said, “I’ll be back later, little one.”
“Regan, baby, speak to me,” Seth demanded, and I felt him tapping my cheek. Startled, I looked around the room, realizing where we were. He was relieved I was awake, and carefully, he helped me sit up. “What happened?”
“I . . . I remembered something. I need a piece of paper.”
He seemed unsure but stood and grabbed a pad from the kitchen island and returned to me on the floor. Handing it to me, I took the pen and wrote down the numbers I remembered, closing my eyes and going through it twice on the pad, just to make sure I was correct. Handing it back to him without explaining, I asked, “Are those the exact same?”
Glancing at the paper, his eyes grew wide as he looked at what I’d written. “What you think this is?”
“I think it’s one of the numbers Sergey drilled into my head.”
