We kiss goodnight and snuggle into an embrace.
We try to lose ourselves in sleep.
But the silence cuts so deep, and sleep is a distant luxury.
This is us.
Me, mostly.
I should be calm in his arms, but I am not. I am trying so hard to close my eyes and even just a few winks, but all in vain. Everything is working against me tonight I am finding myself tossing and turning in his arms. This must have been Crystal
Gyle's exact feeling in The Sounds of Goodbye Jazz. And I am hating this feeling in much as it is unbounded. It is killing me, and I weep for my father’s condition, I also weeping because of this.
Finally, the lantern flickers again. I didn’t even have to adjust to the light because, , I was longing for it. I had not closed my eyes even for a second. "You can't ?" He queries, sloping his head above me as he rests on his elbow.
I shake my head. "Don't worry about me. Go to sleep. I will be fine," I urge him.
He slightly smirked my statement off, shaking his head. "That is nonsense. You know
I can't do that while you are wandering in bed. I can't sleep while you are awake."
"I am sorry. I am just unable to sleep. I am afraid of even closing my eyes. There is so going on in my head. I can't explain what I am feeling. It is like I am in a quagmire.” I stop for a bit, looking at him, “Why is this happening to me,
Damian? Just when I thought that I had it all, this happens? Am I doomed to be the whole of my life?" I am trying really hard not to break down as I speak.
I just don't understand this sh*t called fate anymore. Why has it vouched to make my miserable? Why has it decided to punish me like this? I mean, I had not even basking in the glee of how perfect and happy my life had turned out after all I had to go to, and boom! Fate drops another catastrophe my way. Now I am again, basking in pain that I had never felt before.
"Hey, that is not true. You deserve all the happiness in the world because you are the person there is in this world. You will be happy, Ellie. We will be happy. We still happy. Maybe not fully because of this, but soon we will be,” Damian soothes.
"When, Damian?" I ask.
"I may not know when for sure, but you, Ellie Marrie Riccaford, will be happy. And if has it otherwise, then you and I will change it."
That sounds like a fairy tale—a sweet fairy tale that gives me a ray of hope.
"You are strong, Ellie. You can surpass this. And I am here, always. For you. For us. I you."
What more nice assurance do I need than his sweet, assuring words? Nothing. "Thank ," I mumble, managing to force a small grin.
"Do you want me to accompany you? Maybe it is time," he says after a while, like he taken time to ponder his words carefully.
Maybe it is time?
I agree. Don't they say that there really is no right time for anything? That the decision the power to make the time right for what we love lie solely in us? Then again, do matter. This is complicated. It is a sweet and thoughtful offer that I 't turn down for anything, but only if the situation was different. I would love introduce him to my father, but not like this. Maybe after I gauge my father’s , I can decide if it is indeed the right time.
"I would love to, but I don’t think his condition needs this. Let me see how my father , then we can plan, alright?" I say, and he nods his head.
"I understand. Take all the time it needs. I am not going anywhere. I am willing to even my entire life, as long as it is you that I am waiting for," he says.
Wow! Great, right? I mean, lovely! Who wouldn't be moved by that? I am slightly, but the fear of what awaits me back at home is still so strong.
"My candles don't seem to work on you tonight, and you need to sleep, babe,” he says, my cheek. "You need to rest. Do you need me to get you anything? Food?
Coffee? Tea?" He adds.
I don’t think all of that, or any of it, will be a remedy tonight. If his charm is not , I am certain that nothing else will. But I need to forget all these anxieties, , and worries, even for a moment. "There is something you can do to make me better,” I mutter.
"What?" he queries.
"Make love to me. Make me forget all these fears, Damian," I plead.
He is taken aback. "What? I don't think sex will work at this time. It doesn't feel right,
Ellie," he genuinely argues.
"It does feel right, love. We had plans for this night, and this was one of them. I don't to fail you in everything tonight," I mumble.
"Come on, love. I don't have a problem at all. As I said, we have lots of time ahead of .You should not do this to compensate me. It will make me feel like a jerk," he says.
"Then do it for my sake, love." I cupped his face. "I want you to make love to me , please?" As I pull him for a kiss, I can feel myself starting to loosen up, up to this.
There is nothing like "the right moment" for some things. As long as there is love and , then this, or any other given moment, is right for this. How else should we love to our spouses if we are not ready to surrender and submit ourselves to other at all times?
People come and go, but this one won't. Damian is my mine forever. For all the wrong right reasons. Come rain, come sunshine, come whatever life throws at me, he will be my sweetest, greatest love—my soul. My better half. The right one made me. Nothing can or ever will put us asunder until eternity.
CHAPER 153
THE BUFFLING QUESTIONS
"We can have coffee as we wait for your departure time," Damian offers upon the airport.
I breathe in and out a huge amount of air. I haven't had peace since I woke up, and if weren't for that sex we had last night, I am certain that I wouldn't have slept even a minute throughout the whole night. It was a nice remedy. It was so different, my viewpoint. It was a slow-burn, sweet romance with a lot of decent chats in . He could hang back at some notch to just ask if I am okay. Or to reassure me everything will be fine and that he is with me all the way through. To remind me how strong I am and how much faith he has in me. The kisses were slower than , sweeter, and deeper.
I must confess that I had no inkling that our romantic moment would be that sweet the situation. I had not anticipated that angle when I begged for it. I just wanted distraction to pass the time. But he made it all magical, like he understood perfectly I needed even without myself knowing what I wanted. It was like he bore his all me last night—his love, trust, honesty, and most of all, understanding. Everything bonders love and care about was relinquished to that moment last night. It took a , and even if he continued making love to me the whole night, I wouldn't have or gotten exhausted.
I felt the actual portrayal of being on cloud nine for yet another time. It was epic, , and mind-clogging. It was undoubtedly the most momentous night of all the we have had together. Then again, he has the magic of making every intimacy and sweeter than the previous. I know that after last night, there will still be a better moment.
"No, love. I am not in the mood for coffee.” I respond to his question, my voice laced weariness and a hint of frustration. The weight of impending separation from my bears heavily on my mind, clouding my desire for any sort of distraction.
"You don't even want some fresh air?" he asks, his concern evident in the furrow of brow and the gentle tone of his voice.
"No," I reply, shaking my head, my gaze fixed on the departure board flashing the . "I don't feel like stepping out. I just want to get on that plane and go see my ." My words are clipped, the urgency in my tone betraying my impatience with minutes ticking away.
It is ticking at six o'clock. We still have some freaking fifteen minutes until my time, each second stretching out agonizingly as I long to be airborne, towards the one person who can provide solace in this tumultuous time.
"Can I ask you something?" he inquires, his voice hesitant, as if sensing the gravity of mood and treading carefully around it.
Ahem!
"Sure." I respond, giving him my whole notoriety, entailing even my eyes.
I still don't believe I am leaving him behind. If only I could, I would carry him with everywhere I go. Bitches better stay away from him, even now that I will not be him.
"Pardon me for fussing, but you are going back home, love. What if your rattled issue your betrothed is raised again? What if what you ran away from is still waiting you back there?"
As I observe the distress and fears etched across his features, I realize that he is not only one grappling with these thoughts. Since the moment I stepped into his car the house until now, as we sit in tense silence, I have been plagued by the same and fears.
Indisputably, that is one of the reasons why I was dead mute the whole ride because I about this whole probability last night. Each passing mile only served to the turmoil within me, leaving me feeling utterly lost and uncertain about the future holds.
I reach out and gently place my hand on his, offering a silent reassurance that we are this together, no matter how daunting the journey ahead may seem. We may not all the answers, but I think this is the point where we bet everything on our love the trust we have in each other. I mean, I cannot soothe him with the lie that the is completely dead and buried. Neither can I promise boldly that I can run away and leave my father on his sick bed. This is where fate comes in, but no matter it brings, nobody can ever have my heart except him.
The Riccafortes are as adamant as my father, I know, and they go far back. Birds of same feather flock together, they say. That is why they were able to easily enter an agreement. But I broke it. I don't know what they consented to when I revolted it, but it baffles me that I haven't heard something about the split of the or the cessation of their coalition. I thought that would be the first thing in news when I refused to seal their deal.
But nothing of the sort happened, or at least nothing of the sort that I have heard of.
Could they have agreed to continue the alliance even after we breached the contract?
Or are they still waiting for my return so that they can impel me into their absurdities?
Is that moronic, imbecile son of Riccaforte still waiting for me?
It is backbreaking to tell which is which, and I don't want to conclude anything, but if all they are dreaming of coercing me into that marriage, they better think and think . I can’t imagine a fucking life without Damian. On a lighter note, maybe it is time I face that moron, Riccaforte junior, and settle the scores with him face-to- and peacefully for everyone's sake.