Page 43 of Entwined
Vaughn nodded, wiping the vanity dry with a hand towel before perching on the edge. “I know. It’s also the most romantic day of the year.”
“Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday so companies can make money,” I scoffed, taking a sip of the wine. The taste was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the bath.
Vaughn chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through the room. “Joey, why were you out in the snow?” he asked again, his tone more serious this time.
I stared down at the bubbles, watching as they swirled around me, the scent of vanilla thick in the air. I didn’t know how to answer him—didn’t know how to explain the emptiness, the grief that gnawed at my insides. How could I put into words the pain that had driven me out into the cold, searching for something, anything to dull the ache?
“I was trying to feel something,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “Anything other than this… this numbness.”
Vaughn was silent for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“You’re not alone, Joey,” he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
I looked up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. There was something in his eyes, something that made my breath catch. Vulnerability, maybe. Or was it something else—something darker, more dangerous?
“I know,” I whispered back, even though I wasn’t sure if I believed it.
Vaughn’s hand lingered on my cheek for a moment longer before he pulled away, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his wine, his gaze drifting to the window where the snow was still falling, the world outside quiet and white.
“Happy birthday, Joey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thanks,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the soft lapping of the water against the sides of the tub, the faint hum of the city outside. And as the snow continued to fall, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Vaughn was right. Maybe I didn’t have to go through this alone after all.
Vaughn’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. “Are you hungry?”
I blinked, realizing I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. My stomach answered for me, a low rumble breaking the silence. “Chinese?” I suggested, almost sheepishly.
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I can order.”
“Sweet and sour chicken,” I began, the thought of food finally stirring some life in me. “And an eggroll. Maybe some spareribs too.”
Vaughn raised an eyebrow, his expression softening with amusement. “You are hungry,” he remarked, a chuckle slipping from him.
I shrugged, a hint of a smile forming. “I guess.”
He nodded, stepping out of the bathroom to place the order. I sank deeper into the warm bath, letting the vanilla-scented bubbles envelop me. The heat was starting to thaw the cold that had gripped me, inside and out. I felt the tension drain from my body, but it wasn’t long before I was ready to get out.
Wrapping a towel around myself, I was just stepping out of the tub when Vaughn returned. His eyes swept over me, but there was something different in his gaze—less desire, more… admiration. It made my breath catch.
“Ordered. Should be here in twenty minutes,” he said, his tone casual, but his eyes lingering. “Get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”
I nodded, watching as he turned to leave, his presence both comforting and unnerving at the same time. I dressed quickly in thick sweats, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the harsh cold of earlier. When I entered the kitchen, Vaughn was waiting, leaning casually against the counter. In front of him were two cards—one wrinkled and stained with age, the other in a crisp, royal blue envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked, curiosity piqued as I approached.
He smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Open them. The old one first.”
I hesitated, then carefully tore at the worn paper. Inside was a card with Vaughn’s handwriting, but the letters were more childish, less sure. My breath caught as I realized this was a card from years ago, one he had never given me. It was signed with love.
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked up at him. “Is this the card?”
“The one I never got to give you,” Vaughn confirmed, sipping his wine as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.
“It’s sweet,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
“I loved you even back then,” he said quietly, his gaze steady on mine.
