Page 20 of Atlas
I sit on the edge of my bed as I smack myself in the head. “My pump ran out of insulin, I was going to change it and then I got distracted.” I look up at Atlas and flinch. Pissed isn’t a powerful enough word to describe the look on Atlas’ face.
Without speaking, I watch as Atlas walks to my drawer where I keep my supplies for my monitors. He grabs my pouch with my strips and meters. “Check your sugar.” He growls while tossing the case on the bed before grabbing my new pump and the supplies I need for it. I try to load my lance with the needle to prick my finger, but my hands are shaking.
Atlas sighs as he kneels in front of me and loads the lance for me. I watch as he puts the test strip in the meter while simultaneously massaging the tip of my middle finger. I am so focused on him that I don’t feel the prick. He places the strip next to the bead of blood on my fingertip and once the meter beeps that it is reading the blood, Atlas cleans my finger and wraps a bandage around it. I want to tell him I don’t need one, as it’s just a prick, but when he casually kisses the bandage before looking at my meter, I nearly choke on a sob. No one has ever been so sweet to me.
“God damn it,” He curses as he sets the meter down and stands up. “You’re low Princess, I’ll grab you a juice and your insulin so you can fill your pump.” He leaves and I sit in stunned silence. What is happening? How does he know what I need?How does he know how to read a meter? I rarely change my sensors in front of him.
Atlas returns and hands me a juice while prepping my sensor supplies.
“How do you know all of this?” I finally manage after chugging half the small bottle of juice.
“I’ve been reading, well listening to audiobooks a lot since you passed out at the chapel. I still probably only know enough to fuck something up,” He smirks as he hands me my vial of insulin to inject into my pump. “But I’m trying to figure it out. The children’s hospital has a class for families to learn about diabetes in two weeks I’m signed up for as well. I mean, I know you’re not a kid but mmf–”
I couldn’t listen to another word. My lips crash onto his as I pull his head to mine. I feel his hands grip my hips as he pulls me back from him. Staring into his wide eyes, I immediately get ready to apologize for my outburst when he backs away and takes a deep breath.
“You uhh,” He lets out an awkward laugh. “You need to get your pump ready, pretty girl. I’m gonna run Bruno out so that he is good until Stevie gets here.” I give him a painful smile as he leaves the room and as soon as he is gone, I smack myself in the forehead.
Really Lauren! You freaking assault him with the tightest lipped kiss imaginable? What the hell?
I groan and stomp my foot in annoyance before going over to my supplies to put my pump in.
God,this car ride must be the single most awkward ride of my life. Atlas didn’t speak besides asking me what my sugars were, forty-seven times. Does forty seven seem too specific? I promise, it’s not. It takes fifty-three minutes to reach my parents’ home according to the GPS that Atlas insisted on using and he has asked me every single minute since we were three minutes into the ride. Besides that, it’s been nothing. His hands have been wrapped tightly around the wheel of his Tahoe and his eyes focused on nothing but the road ahead. Every time I glance over, I see his jaw working.
Biting my bottom lip, I see the hill coming up that we have to drive up to reach my parent’s luxury estate. “Okay look,” I force out, unwilling to allow there to be tension between us. I need him to be on his game tonight or my parents will tear this marriage apart. “I’m super sorry I gave you that weird kiss. I think it was just the nerves and the low blood sugar, plus you were just being really nice to me.” I continue to stare down at my hands that are painfully twisting my fingers. “Either way, I shouldn’t have done that without consent. I’m sorry.”
There is a beat of silence before Atlas snickers lightly. “Ren, I’m not upset over the kiss. I’m mad at you for being so irresponsible with your medication. I’m terrified to see you the way I did in that bathroom. That look on your face will haunt me for the rest of my life. So when you forget, I just… I worry, alright?”
Flinching, I glance towards him. His jaw is looser and I can see the worry lines on his brow. Shit, I did worry him. “I amreally sorry At,” I say, feeling that all too familiar feeling of being a disappointment. “R-really, I just,” I exhale deeply through my nose, “Things have been crazy and I know it’s no excuse, I know better but, I just have a hard time remembering everything when I’m stressed like this.” He must hear the waver in my voice because he pulls over in front of a large, ornate metal gate and parks his car.
“We can’t stay here.” I mumble, concerned that the owners of the driveway we are in will call the police.
“Hush.” He states as he removes his seatbelt to look at me. “Pretty girl, you don’t have to apologize to me, and please, don’t be upset over this. I was irritated but I will be fine. I just wish I could know you’re okay without having to ask you eight hundred times.” I chew on my bottom lip until I feel his thumb run across it and pull it out of my mouth. “And for the record,” His voice is soft and captivating as he stares at my mouth before glancing back to my eyes. “You have my consent to doanythingyou want to me. Anytime, got it?”
I nod, stupidly, because that’s all I can do. He goes to move his finger away from my lips when I grip his wrist to hold him there. Without much thinking, I press my lips against his thumb before taking the tip into my mouth.
“Holy fuck…” He hisses. A horn sounds behind us as a car heads up a hill, causing us to jump.Holy shit, what am I doing?Atlas clears his throat and returns to his side of the vehicle. I notice his other hand tugging at the crotch of his pants, as if adjusting himself before we back out of the driveway and continue our way up the hill.
Atlas clears his throat uncomfortably. “So,”he hands his keys to the valet. “Who all lives here?” Standing outside the French palace inspired home, I can understand his apprehension. My parents both came from extremely wealthy parents, and both are at the top in their careers, so of course they have a home that looks like a small palace with a massive water fountain in the front that my entire apartment could fit into.
“My parents and my brother and sister, unless they are traveling. My brother’s name is Henry, my sister is Adeline.” I say while walking up the stone stairs to the large doors.
“That’s it?” Atlas laughs in disbelief.
I give him a shrug. “I mean, there is the help as well, but yeah, that’s it. My parents like to make sure you know they have money.”
The door opens before I can grab the large, ornate knocker and an older man stands in his butler uniform.
“Good evening, Miss Lauren.” He drawls, and I give him a familial smile.
“Good evening Ferguson, it’s been a while.” Ferguson bows his head slightly as he gestures for us to walk in.
“They have a butler?” Atlas mutters out the side of his mouth. “You grew up with a butler?”
Unease continues to churn in my stomach as I scan the massive home. It hasn’t changed since they had it built forty years ago. After all,“Wealth doesn’t go out of style,”as my dad would say every time it would be mentioned that we wanted to decorate. The home looks like someone robbed an 18th centurycastle in France and threw it in here. Antique, ornate furniture and tapestries, white floors with specks of gold in them, and so much artwork you feel as though you are in the back storage of a museum.
We follow Ferguson as he leads us to the back of the house where the party is being held on one of the massive terraces. We walk outside and I cringe at the curse I hear under Atlas’ breath. An olympic sized swimming pool, a tennis court and a matching smaller castle sat off in the distance. That was the spa house. Even thinking it makes me squirm nervously as I think of how this must look to Atlas. Oh god, he probably sees this and is wondering why on Earth he had to marry me.
“Birdie!” I flinch as I hear my younger brother’s voice. I watch as the sandy blonde haired man runs over to me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Woah!” He laughs and squeezes my sides. “I can barely get my hands around you anymore!”
