Page 16 of Atlas
The man takes a step back. “Look man, I apologize.” He stammers.
“What the fuck? Apologize to her!” Atlas moves me to his side, and the man gives me a nervous look, same dude, same.
“I am s-so sorry,'' the man offers weakly. I nod, wanting this whole thing to be over with before Atlas takes this man out.
As the man literally runs off, I turn around to face Atlas. His eyes are slits, brows together, nostrils flaring and the scowl on his face–it doesn’t belong there. Without thinking, I reach my hand up and cup his cheek, rubbing my thumb over the corner of his scowl. The action seems to snap him out of his murderous trance. In almost an instant, Atlas is nuzzling into my hand, his body melting against my touch. He turns his face and presses hislips softly against where my palm meets my wrist and I inhale sharply.
“Are you alright, Princess?” His voice is back to his soft, kind tone and his face begins to relax back into his content smile. I give him a tight smile and nod before taking my hand back, unable to hold the connection any longer. Though, the second I break it, I wish it was back. In the past, I would’ve given anything to have this moment, and now here I am, having it and it’s too much.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as we start walking.
Atlas sticks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and follows me. “I got out of community service and drove here. I figured you would be irritated by the clothes and having to find us a ring set, so I came here to make it more fun. I called you when I was in the restroom by the food court to ask you where you were but then that fucker started some shit.”
I sigh as I look towards the sign for the jewelry store, trying to ignore the warm feeling coursing through me at him coming here for me. “They are going to hose me on these rings, but these are desperate times.”
“So we can go somewhere else.” Atlas shrugs. “I don’t really care. I’ll tattoo lines on our fingers, whatever you want.”
I halt my walking to look at him. “Atlas,” I say, my voice filled with confusion. “You can’t–tattoos are kind of permanent.”
Atlas looks down at me in shock. “Really? You don’t say! I had NO idea.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know they are permanent. What’s your point?”
Laughing, I look around. “My point? My point is, you and I aren’t in love! One day you will find a girl that you are in love with. You’ll want to marry her and she’s going to see that tattoo on your ring finger, and how will that make her feel? No, I couldn't do that to your real wife.”
“Youare my real wife.” He states firmly. “You are it. I’ll never marry another woman.” When had we gotten this close to one another? Our chests were nearly touching and I know if it wasn’t for the mall crowd, he would be able to hear my rapid heartbeat.
“Why not?” I am not even sure if it’s an audible question until Atlas tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear and smiles softly.
“Because Princess, I don’t want to give that to anyone else. No matter what happens down the road, even if you no longer need me for my insurance, I won’t marry again because it won't be special. It won’t be special because it wouldn’t be with you.”
Fucking hell. I’m in it, and I’m in it deep.
I watch the cocky grin stretch across his scruffy face. “Oh yeah,” He laughs as he starts strutting away. “I am as smooth as melted milk chocolate.”
Chapter 7
Atlas
“That’s gin and game!” Howard, the old man sitting across the table from me, cheers as he slams his playing cards down and reaches out to pull the pot towards him.
“Howard,” Betty, the older nurse, gives him a warning tone, a disapproving frown forming over her dark painted lips. “You know you can’t have all that junk food. And you,” she snaps her fingers before pointing at me. “Why can't you bet quarters like all the others do?”
I shrug and give her an innocent face. “Howard doesn’t like quarters.”
Howard grunts his response as he loads the side bag of his wheelchair with his winnings, which consists of the entire vending machine downstairs that he is not allowed to purchase food from. “Betty, you ride my ass harder than my wife ever did. At least she made me dinner once in a while.”
“Watch your mouth, Howard, or I’ll put Charles on your sponge bath duty.” Howard lets out a shudder before waving Betty off.
“Leave this boy alone, he brings in the goods because I’m tired of small change, these…” He holds out a snack bag of chips. “These are high stakes.”
Betty rolls her dark eyes before looking back at me, exasperated. “Every time you come in here, you get him all riled up, and then I have to deal with it all day.”
I give her a sheepish grin as I rub the back of my head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Betty.” She hits me on the chest before walking away.
“That ‘ah shucks’ boyish charm won’t work forever.” She calls over her shoulder.
