Page 201 of Severed Heart
It’s too much of a mind fuck for me to decipher what feelings to have about it, so I blink it out, instead concentrating on my own love story.
“Soldier,” Delphine draws out sleepily as I rock us with my foot, my leg hanging just out of the hammock to keep us going. The night noise starts to surround us as the sun vanishes. The fireflies already sparking up, looking like a blinking blanket hovering over the surrounding grass. The atmosphere peaceful in contrast to the riot in my head and chest with the verdict looming. I don’t want her to fucking suffer anymore, in any fucking capacity, for any reason. She’s been through enough.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Do you believe in God?”
When I instantly tighten my grip—giving myself away—she immediately speaks up. “No, Soldier, this isn’t fear. This is a conversation we’ve never had because I do fear your answer.”
“You think I don’t?” I deduce.
“I think you are brilliant, but for you, science and reasoning overrules spirituality.”
“I debate it often,” I tell her honestly. “I guess you could say for now I’m agnostic.”
“This makes me happy. I hope every day that God wins, that He convinces you He’s real,” she says.
“Why do you believe?” I ask, knowing whether or not she’s admitting it, she’s scared. Her thoughts on God are because of the fear she’s not voicing because, for her and so many others, simply believing is comforting.
“I believe because I have felt God’s presence with me many times in my life. Even after I numbed. It was not Matis’s rules about cleanliness, or anything else to abide by that kept me faithful. It was feeling His presence with me during good days and bad. I feel it so much sometimes with you, and because of you, my miracle, that He is often with us. But sometimes my logic-necessary brain makes me doubt. It is ironic though, that even during those times, I believe.”
“You can talk to me if you’re scared,” I whisper.
She piles her palms on my chest before resting her chin on them, staring at me for long seconds before speaking softly. “Soldier, we bothknow.”
“For once, could you not be so intuitive?” I drawl around the instant burn searing my chest as I force the question out. “Do you feel sick?”
“No, not yet.” She bites her lip before she speaks. “But, Soldier, Iknow.”
The burning inside goes straight to inferno as she does her best to calm it. “I have won this battle before, and I have never been more ready to fight. For us, for our heaven on earth here. Soldier, I promise you. You said our thoughts are powerful, right?”
“Right,” I manage around the scald—this particular mental fight fucking horrific.
“Then I will believe myself to win again.”
Fear mutes me briefly as I nod until I can speak. “Then I will, too.”
“If I am right, I promise you, Soldier. I will fight so very hard.”
“Stop trying to console me. I believein you, in your words, always have,” I whisper low because if I don’t, she’ll hear the crack of fear winning. Instead, I grin back at her, palming her crown and running my thumb along her hairline and down her cheek.
“I love it when you do this,” she whispers, nuzzling into my touch.
“I know,” I tell her, “and I have faith in you. Thatyou aregoing to beat it, and that’s onlyifyou’re right, General,” I state, managing to rein it in. “You’ve been wrong before and lost money during the Super Bowl.” I quirk a brow.
“I made a bet,” she grumbles, “thatwas the point. It was a therapy breakthrough,” she justifies.
“Is my little tightwad still sore she lost a thousand bucks betting on the Broncos to my Uncle Gray?”
“Shut up, asshole.”
“Oof,” I chuckle. “But I told you to always bet on thebirds.” I wink.
“I love you so much,” she blurts, seemingly out of nowhere, thankful that the arrival of her declaration works like a cool balm to my stinging soul.
“Well, I was hoping you did. Especially tonight,” I tell her.
“Oh? Why?”
