Page 59 of Delirium
“So you decided to sell your unborn daughter for your own gains?” I clipped back. I knew he was sorry. It was evident on his face when he told me about the deal, but that didn’t change the fact that we had no way out of this.
“No,” he answered. “I don’t know, Sunshine. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I didn’t see a way out. And the Italians, well… They used to be our enemies, until we made a pact with them years ago to help each other when needed. I never even expected to have a daughter.”
“Storm.” I exhaled. “All these pretty words don’t change the fact that we’re in this mess. Nothing that you say will change the fact that you sold her. You should have told me the moment we found out I was pregnant. You should have—”
“I couldn’t,” he said. “I thought you hated me, Sunshine, and with reason I might add. And then there were all these other things, and I just—”
“You just hid the truth from me,” I cut in. “Again. Maybe you didn’t lie, but you still hid the truth from me, and that fucking hurts, Storm. It hurts knowing that I can’t trust you. Not with my heart, not with our kids… How do we move on from this? Huh? How can I trust you?”
My legs shook, my entire body feeling weak, exhausted. I slid down to the door, hugging my knees to my chest, wanting to feel anything but this anger, this pain over the lies that were becoming common for our relationship, or whatever the fuck we had.
“I don’t know, Sunshine,” Storm answered, his tone laced with the same pain living inside my chest. “I’ll try to fix it. I promise.”
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut, because I feared what would happen if I actually spoke again. No matter what, I didn’t want us to be enemies. I didn’t want us to regard each other with hostility. I had no idea if it was the hormones or just the exhaustion settling in, but I wanted to cry, and sleep and be held by someone I trusted.
I wanted somebody to tell me that everything would be okay. That my kids would be okay, that the world wouldn’t try to kill me or destroy me for at least one day. I wanted someone to reassure me that I had nothing to worry about.
With a heavy heart, I stood up, ready to go to bed. Opening the door, the first thing I saw was Storm, sitting on the floor, with his back pressed against the wall, his eyes closed, his face turned toward the ceiling. His eyes flashed open the moment he heard me stepping out, jumping to his feet, immediately towering over me, but keeping his distance.
“Are you okay?” he asked, observing me with bloodshot eyes.
“I will be,” I said, walking toward the bed, ready to put on my shoes and go somewhere quiet to sleep. I agreed to stay, but with my room quite literally being a crime scene now, I had to find some other place where I could sleep.
Maybe I could take Atlas’s room, or Zoe’s?
“What are you doing?” Storm asked as I started putting my shoes back on, bending down to tie the laces.
“I’m going to sleep.”
“In your shoes?”
I looked up at him, irritated by the concern in his words. I didn’t have time for this. Not tonight.
I was tired of fighting, explaining myself, having to look over my shoulder every single day. I just wanted to put my head down on a pillow and close my eyes, leaving this world behind. My emotions choked me, wrapped around my throat, and I wanted to let them out without witnesses watching me fall apart.
“I need to find a place to sleep in, Storm. I can’t go back to my old room, and—”
“You could stay here.” He shrugged, looking down at the floor.
“Storm.”
“No, look,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I’ll find another place. Hell, I can sleep on the couch, that’s not a problem. But you need to rest. You need stability,” he rambled. “It isn’t something that you had so far, and I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“Storm—”
“I fucked up, okay?” He looked up at me. “I fucked up again, and there’s nothing that I can do or say right now to fix this, but let me do this. Let me give you my room at least.”
My lips were set in a thin line, a headache brewing behind my eyes. When I said nothing but just kept staring at him, Storm decided that it wasn’t enough. It never was with this man.
He closed the distance between us. Before I could react, he dropped down to his knees, hugging my thighs to him, pressing his forehead to my stomach.
“Please, Sunshine,” he said. “Just stay in here. I’ll know you’re safe. Maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but I need to know you’re safe. I won’t be able to sleep if you’re in somebody else’s room.”
“Storm,” I murmured, my hands instinctively landing on his head, my fingers playing with his hair.
“It won’t mean anything, but me looking after you. Please, let me do this.” He looked up, his glassy eyes filled with remorse threatening to knock me off my feet. “Just stay in my room.”
I could have said no. I could have been petty, letting the anger rule my actions, but that was the old Ophelia who never thought things through.
