Page 18 of Taboo
“I don’t like this,” she whispered against my hair, her voice thick. “None of it feels right to me. But… I know you’re hurting, too. Just be careful, okay? And keep your phone on. If you need us, we're here.”
I nodded against her shoulder, tears stinging my eyes. “I love you both,” I managed to say, opening my eyes and looking at my dad. He was watching me, the most excruciating expression on his face. But still he said nothing.
“I’m sorry I made things so hard right now.”
I stood for another moment, hugging my mother because it had felt like a lifetime since I'd felt her embrace. I hoped my dad might say something, but when my mother pulled away and he still didn’t speak, I exhaled, nodded, and walked out of the kitchen, my chest tight.
My bag sat by the front door, and I grabbed it, gave one more look toward the kitchen, and finally left. Bastian was waiting by his truck for me, the rear loaded up with supplies. When I stepped beside him, he took one look at my face and pulled me into his arms without asking questions.
“Everything will be okay.”
I knew it would be, but that didn’t help how things felt right now, like everything was crumbling around us.
The drive to the cabin was quiet and seemed longer than it really was, but the further we got from the drama, the lighter I felt. Bastian kept one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh the entire way, his thumb brushing back and forth like he needed the contact to stay grounded.
I needed it, too.
When we pulled up to the small wooden cabin tucked among the trees, it felt like the first real breath I’d taken in weeks. I’d go back and get my car later in the week when I packed up a few more things, but right now, this was enough.
I climbed out and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. God, the air smelled cleaner, absent of disappointment and shame. The only sounds were birds and the distant lap of water against the shore. We were on the other end of the lake, miles and miles of water and land separating Bastian and me from our family and the drama.
“Come on, baby," Bastian said from beside me, taking my bag. He led us to the front door, and once inside, I looked around at what would be home for the foreseeable future. I didn't know how long we’d stay here. Maybe until things cooled down a bit more. Maybe for the rest of the summer.
Only time would tell.
Inside, the cabin was simple but cozy with only one bedroom and a bathroom attached to it and a small kitchen and living room that made up the great room. There was a big window overlooking the lake, and I found myself moving toward it and marveling at how beautiful the scenery was.
“It takes your breath away, doesn’t it?” I murmured.
When I turned, Bastian was staring at me instead of the view.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “You do.”
I felt my face heat, and I looked down, a small smile tugging at my lips.
I unpacked slowly, almost shyly, needing something to do to keep my mind off our family. I’d never lived with a man before, but I was excited to learn how to exist together without the constant pressure of everyone else watching.
The rest of the day, we stayed inside, organizing things, learning to be in each other's presence without any guilt or shame or worry. Once the sun set, we made a simple dinner with the supplies Bastian had brought from his cabin. I knew the pasta and sauce from a jar would be the best meal I’d ever had.
It all felt so normal it almost hurt.
I set the table right in front of the window, and once seated, I couldn’t calm my racing nerves. We talked about little things, like what kind of dog we’d have someday. Or maybe we’d have a cat. I told him I used to hate the taste of lake water as a kid, and because of that, I refused to go in the water for an entire summer.
Life fell into place so normally, so comfortably, and for the first time in weeks, we weren’t hiding or waiting for the next argument or awkward silence.
We were just… us.
This is how it can always be, I thought to myself.
After dinner, we cleaned up together, shoulders brushing, stealing small touches like we were learning how to be ourselves openly. When the last dish was put away, something changed.
My pulse thrummed at the base of my throat when Bastian stepped behind me at the sink, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. His voice was low and rough when he spoke.
“I need you, baby,” he murmured against my skin. “Been needing you all fucking day.”
I turned in his arms and kissed him. It started slow, almost careful, but quickly turned deep and desperate. His hands slid under my shirt, rough palms gliding back and forth over my bare skin like he needed to claim me, make me his.
I knew we wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.
