Page 101 of Oblivion
Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but I forgave her already for what she did. I didn’t want to acknowledge it at first, but the fault didn’t only lie on her—it stood on my shoulders as well. I lied to her, kept the secrets when she told me so many times that she hated those more than anything else.
She hated being kept in the dark and I made her believe she meant nothing to me. I made her believe that she was only a tool for me to use, when the reality was completely different. I could live without Ophelia. I could spend the rest of my life without her smile, without her soft touch, without seeing that sweet side of her she so rarely showed, but I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to wake up without her tucked to my side. I didn’t want to think ten years from now what would have happened if I did things differently. And these obstacles keeping me from her… I could fix it. I would fix it all.
I would show her, tell her, keep her and hold her, make her believe my every word. I would erase the pain from her cerulean eyes and I would make her heart beat for me again. I could do it.
Pushing the doorknob down, I was surprised to find it unlocked. I hoped it would be, but I also feared that she would have locked it, thinking that she now had more enemies than friends in this house. But she didn’t know that half of my chapter almost bit my head off for what I did. She didn’t know that both men and women came to my door, demanding to know what was going on.
Demanding me to apologize to Ophelia, to do what was right. Those that cheered against her during the gathering, those that wanted her gone were the members from other chapters that didn’t know her as well as my people did.
They didn’t know that Ophelia didn’t mind getting down on the ground to play with little Clara when all the other kids were at school. They didn’t know that she prepared ginger tea and breakfast for old Harvey when he caught the flu a couple of months ago.
They didn’t know that her eyes shone whenever her friends spoke about the things they loved, the things they were passionate about. They didn’t know that she would die for those she loved, for those she considered a family, and I made her believe that we didn’t want her here unless we could use her.
Humid air caressed the bare skin on my arms, my eyes zeroing on her sleeping form. Her back was turned toward the door, that fucking stand that held the IV drip earlier pushed to the corner of the room, and only the soft light peeking through from the bathroom illuminated the room, showing me Ophelia’s bare back.
Her knees were pulled to her chest, her hands tightly pressed against her chest, as if she was shielding herself from the rest of the world, even in sleep trying to protect that heart I loved.
My feet carried me to her, my heart thundering in my chest, pushing me to her.
Floor croaked underneath my weight, but I didn’t care if she woke up or not. I wanted her to see me, to feel me, to understand why I did things this way. The truth almost spilled over my lips when I saw her today, when I saw the fragile state she was in, and while I knew that my actions had nothing to do with her health, I still blamed myself.
I should have been the one caring for her. I should have been the one holding her hand, bringing her water, and showering her with love, not Atlas and not Zoe. I had no idea what happened after Atlas pulled me from her, but the moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw Nova sauntering toward Ophelia’s room, her eyes widening when she saw me.
Maybe she was going to see me, maybe it was a sheer coincidence, but I knew I had to do a better job of keeping her away from Ophelia. I hated Nova, and I wanted nothing more than to see her perish, but we needed her to figure out who sent her to us. Who planted her here in my chapter.
Ophelia shivered, lying in the middle of the bed, and as silently as possible, I removed my boots, then my belt, letting my pants fall down, leaving me only in my boxers. My shirt followed, thrown to the floor before I sauntered toward her, sliding onto the bed and pulling her to me.
Her back pressed against my chest, her ass wiggling against my dick, stirring desire deep inside my groin, but I didn’t come here to fuck her. I came here to show her I still cared even though I couldn’t act on it in public. There were only a select few people I trusted enough to show how I truly felt about her, and the majority out there didn’t have to know that my desire and my need for this woman came before everything.
Placing my hand over her stomach, I held her to me, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla.
My thumb circled under her boob, her body responding to me even when she hated me. Her back arched, her backside pressing against my hard and aching dick, nestled between her ass cheeks.
“Fuck,” I groaned, closing my eyes when she started wiggling against me.
“Storm,” she moaned. “What are you doing here?”
Her sleepy voice pulled at the invisible string connecting me to her, the bond that was created years ago when I didn’t even know that she would become my everything.
“Holding you,” I murmured, refusing to back away even if she didn’t want me here. “Just let me hold you, Sunshine. Just tonight.”
Silence descended on us and I tried not to move. I didn’t want to spook her, to make her think this was only for my selfish gains. Her hand, much tinier than mine, landed on top of mine, holding me there at her stomach. She shuddered in my embrace, and I pressed my eyes closed, hating how much I loved and hated this.
I hated this chasm between us, this hollowness we created by not communicating properly. It took two to tango, and both of us fucked all of this up.
But what did we expect would happen when two broken and dysfunctional people fell in love? Neither one of us knew how to do things in a healthy way like the rest of the people. Neither one of us knew how to trust, how to love without limiting the other person.
I didn’t know how to let her go, even though that would be a humane thing to do. She didn’t know how to keep her poison from dripping on my skin, and like a wild animal, every time she would get cornered, she spat it at me without thinking about the consequences.
They would have killed her at the gathering for what she did. They wanted to take her away from me, but Rip and Maxwell stopped them, knowing what she meant to me. Even a blind man would have figured it out by now, and I had no idea what would happen to me when she finally realized that I couldn’t give her what she wanted.
At least not yet.
“Loving you hurts, Storm,” she murmured. “It burns as if a thousand suns fell down on me, scorching me to the bone. And I don’t know if I can do this any longer, Storm.”
“No.” I shook my head, holding her tighter as if that could show her what I felt for her. “Don’t say that.”
