Page 15 of Oblivion
Atlas said he was okay, that he was asking for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to enter the room. I’d been both anticipating and dreading this moment ever since they put him into a coma, knowing that it wouldn’t be a happily-ever-after reunion. Memories of that day in the Club were hazy, but the anger shining in Storm’s eyes would be something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
The door suddenly opened, revealing the nurse I knew too well. She was one of the kind ones, one of the ones who understood my need to be here. She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Her graying hair was pulled into a neat bun at the back of her head, her face free of any makeup and those kind, brown eyes seeing more than I would have wanted her to.
“He’s finally up.” She grinned. “I’m sure you’re relieved.”
I nodded, because all the words I had in me were suddenly stuck in my throat. I kept going over everything I needed to tell him, but couldn’t.
“Anyway,” she stepped outside, keeping the door open for me, “I’ll leave you two alone. He’s all good, slightly dehydrated, but we’re fixing that. He’ll be up on his feet in no time.”
Little did she know that he would need to be up on his feet in the next fifteen minutes.
“Thank you,” I murmured when she started walking next to me. “For everything,” I added as she looked at me. “I will never forget this.”
We didn’t talk that often, but she was the one who would always bring blankets for me, urging me to eat, to drink some more water, to keep fighting even when it seemed that nothing worked. She was the one to hold my hand when all hope seemed to be lost. I was grateful that I, at least, had someone on my side who wasn’t judging me for my mistakes.
“Don’t even mention it. I can see how much you love him.”
“Yeah.” I smiled at her. “I better go inside.”
“Go, go, he’s waiting for you. He asked about you at least five times.”
He probably asked because he wanted to tell me to fuck off one last time, but I wouldn’t think about it now. The most important thing was to get him the fuck out of here and somewhere safe. The clubhouse wasn’t an option right now, but I was sure that Atlas and Indigo would know what to do and where to go.
He didn’t need me—they didn’t need me. It was tough coming to that realization.
My heart hammered violently in my chest, slamming against my ribcage as I stepped closer to the doorway. I’d fought men twice my size, and I wasn’t afraid. Yet facing Storm, after everything we went through, made me want to run away.
I wanted to remember him when he liked me. When he wanted me next to him. I’d been storing those memories of us in a hidden chest, deep inside my soul, locking it with a key that I would never use. I could never use it because it hurt too much, knowing what I could have had.
I knew that the version I would get now wouldn’t be the man I knew from before, but someone furious with me and with my choices. Even though he already told me to get the fuck out of his life, it sucked knowing that it was all coming to an end.
“Are you going to keep standing at the fucking threshold or are you finally going to enter? We don’t have all day, Ophelia.”
His voice washed over me, causing goosebumps on my skin. I almost whimpered because I could finally hear him. Even though he sounded angry, he was awake. He was here with us. His anger was better than the silence I was surrounded with for the past month, and if it meant that the fairytale I was so desperate to have would come to an end, so be it. He was alive, awake, and that’s all that mattered.
We didn’t have much time, but I wanted to see him one last time.
After today, he would never have to worry about me ever again.
Summoning the strength I didn’t know I had, I entered the room, and my eyes immediately landed on him.
He was sitting in his bed, his wide shoulders occupying the entire place, and I forgot how intoxicating he really was. His skin was pale, much paler than usual, with dark circles around his eyes, reflecting my own, but it was his stare that made me stop.
There was so much anger there, burning me, licking my skin with violent touches, and I knew I deserved it. I deserved everything he wanted to throw at me. But deep beneath that anger, all that rage he pushed to the surface, I also saw the love he had for me. Or at least something akin to the love I wanted him to feel. I mastered pretending that nothing ever touched me, pushing those that cared about me from my life. The two of us were more alike than we wanted to admit.
He looked almost funny in the hospital gown, but even in this environment, even weaker than he usually was, he was still the most imposing man I had ever met. The one I could imagine myself spending the rest of my life with. If only I could.
“You’re still here,” he said, his voice raspy from the lack of usage. “I would’ve thought that you would be on the other side of the world by now.”
I winced at that. I understood why he thought that, why he decided to punish me with his words, slicing through the armor I’d erected around my heart, but it still fucking hurt hearing him say that. Did he really think that he didn’t mean anything to me? Have I made him believe that?
“I couldn’t do that,” I murmured, stepping closer to him, trembling from head to toe.
He stared at me as if I were a stranger, someone placed here to hurt him, to destroy him, and maybe he was right. Maybe both of us were made only for destruction and nothing more. Maybe the violence that lived in our blood made it impossible for love to survive.
His nostrils flared, his muscles flexing, visible even underneath the gown, and all I wanted to do was to climb onto the bed and hug him. To feel him against me. To hear his steady heartbeat. To feel those hands once more on my skin. To feel as if someone really wanted me in their life.
I’d spent years detaching myself from other people, afraid that they would get destroyed by the monsters living inside of me. For so long, I’d deprived myself of human touch, of love, of all these feelings that ate at my insides.
