Page 110 of Dead Love
I cradledKora in my arms, and as the drug wore off, she cried harder than she ever had in her life. My instincts surged with the need to protect her, to hold her close so that nothing could touch her, not unless it destroyed me first. She shuddered with each sob that raked her body. And with that level of release came pure exhaustion. She slept in my arms, her breathing rhythmic and calm.
I wrapped her in a blanket, then carried her across the path, through the cemetery, back to the house. The dogs joined us, circling at my feet, curious, but quickly picked up that Kora was not to be disturbed, and dismissed themselves. I brought her to my bedroom and laid her down beside me, tucking her inside of the blankets. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering between wakefulness and sleep. I stroked her hair until she fell back into her dreams. And eventually, I slept too.
In the morning, she stretched like a cat, then glanced around the room, taking in the sights. I motioned at the nightstand; a bottle of water was waiting for her. Above us, a traditional chandelier hung inside of a circular cage, the metal hanging from the high ceiling. Opposite of the bed was a retractable floor-to-ceiling window in three rectangular slabs, showing a view of Mount Punica and the cemetery. Red fruit flashed in between the green and brown mountainside, silver stones speckling the lush lawn below. I had never invited anyone in here before. This was my place. And if she wanted, it would be hers too.
“I’ve always wondered where you slept,” she said.
It was such an innocent statement, and yet, we both knew how much this meant.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“I love it.”
Pride filled my chest. I got up, pressing a button to the side of the room. Each window pane folded above us like a garage door, letting the breeze fly in through the giant open window. Then I joined her back on the bed. A bird chirped in the distance and the air rustled through the trees. The sun was up, but the light was still soft, warming us. As the bird’s song stopped, Kora glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was past seven a.m. Her shoulders went rigid.
“I should go,” she said.
“Why?” I knew the reason, but after what we had done, all of that seemed so unimportant now.
“If she finds out, she won’t forgive me,” she shrank down. “She’ll kill you.” My hand twitched. Naming her wasn’t necessary; we both knew who controlled Kora’s life. “I’m pretty sure today is her day off though, so there’s a chance she slept in.” Her cheeks flushed red. “She might not even notice I’m gone if I hurry back now.”
But Kora wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman who was more than capable of staying the night somewhere else. It was her choice.
“You can’t keep bowing down to your mother like this,” I said.
“Should I be bowing down to you instead?” Those words stabbed my heart, but I knew she was right. Replacing one person with another didn’t make her situation any better or worse. She had to decide for herself and stop putting everyone else first.
“Is that what you really want?” I leaned in closer. “Coming to your mother like a servant?”
“She hasn’t called me yet. But if she does—” She stopped, sighing to herself. “It’s not like you’re any better.”
“You came to me, remember?” I huffed a deep breath. “Tell me. What do you want, more than anything in this world?”
Her eyes were full of longing and restraint, passing over every inch of me.
“You want me to say you,” she said.
That was right. But I wanted her to come to that conclusion herself.
“If you leave,” I said, pointing at the door, “Your mother will shorten her reins.”
“Don’t you see what’s going on here?” She blinked up at me. “She’s not the only one.”
My jaw went stiff. I ran a hand over my neck.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I have to think about my mother. She needs me.”
“But you came here in the middle of the night,” I said. “Because you need me. That means something. Don’t you want something more than to please your mother?”
“Can’t I want both?” she asked, her eyes searching me. “I want to make you happy. But I want to make my mother happy too.”
“But what will makeyouhappy, Kora?” I squeezed her hand, trying to make her see what actually mattered. “What about you?”
“What about me?” She threw up her hands. “What aboutyou,Vincent? I’m giving you my answer. Isn’t this enough?” She motioned to the bed and pillows surrounding us. “I don’t know whatthisis. But it’s what we have right now.”
I closed my eyes, willing away the frustration and anger. Because Kora was right.Thiswas all we had. You could search for something else, but in the end, it always came down to the exact moment we were living in.
She cupped my head in her palm, her thumb stroking the stubble on my cheeks. It was hard for me to accept this as all we had, because every time I was with Kora, I knew it might be our last chance. And I couldn’t let that go without fighting for it.
