Nick turned the light off on his way out, and I closed my eyes, expecting Nadia to wake up any minute. It wasn’t like the first night we spent together when she hardly moved a muscle until the morning. This time she tossed and turned, pressing her delicate body closer to me until she was wrapped around me like ivy. Every time she moved, my eyes popped open. I readjusted the blanket, the hold I had on her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, temple or hair. It had a soothing effect—as if my lips were enough to banish the nightmares.
Sometime around eight thirty in the morning, the silence that filled the house throughout the night was broken by the sound of water boiling in a kettle. Nadia was sound asleep with her hand draped over my chest, leg sprawled across my middle and cheek resting against my shoulder.
Not waking her up with soft kisses across her collarbones proved a struggle. It was a goddamn bitter-sweettorturehaving her so close. I was the only thing standing between us. I was on a verge of giving in to the feelings that inflated my chest when she was close. Nadia tried to act as if she was all Egyptian plagues in one, always saying I should steer clear, but she couldn’t fool me. She wouldn’t push me away if I wanted to rebuild what she tore apart.
Waking up next to her was the best part of falling asleep, but as much as I loved it, and as much as I wanted to wipe our slate clean, the reason why we weren’t together flashed before my eyes, and my mind rebelled against forgiveness.
I lasted twenty more minutes. Having laid in the same position for almost twelve hours, I pressed my lips to her forehead, and slid out of bed, careful not to wake her. My pants and shirt looked as if a dog chewed them up and spat them out, but before I swore under my breath, I noticed a pile of fresh clothes on the nightstand.
Amelia must have left them there after I fell asleep. I took a shower, put on Nick’s long jersey and black tracksuit bottoms and made my way downstairs. The owner of my clothes-for-the-day sat in the kitchen with two cups of coffee in front of him.
“I thought you might get up early,” he said, pushing one cup my way. “Did she sleep at all?”
At all?Who did he have me for? Of course, she slept. And she slept well, too. Not as well as she used to, but she didn’t wake up once. Considering the melt-down we witnessed last night, it was a big victory.
“All night,” I replied, aiming at casual, but there was no denying that I was proud like a peacock, and my voice hinted it a little.
Nick raised an eyebrow, surprised and sceptical at once. I almost heard his brain cells strain to work so early in the morning, but a moment later a tight-lipped smile took over.
“Don’t say a word,” I snapped, expecting stupid comments about how good Nadia and I were together.
Wewere. That was the problem—past tense.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Yes, you were. Drop it, Nick. You were on my side for four months. Stay there.” I sipped on the coffee when Amelia entered the kitchen, a pink robe tied around her middle. “Thanks for the clothes.”
“No problem.” She looked me up and down, eyebrow raised as if she was surprised that they fit me. “How is Nadia? Did she sleep okay?”
Just then we heard Nadia get out of bed. She took a few hasty steps, and the door to the bathroom closed upstairs. I expected her to stay in bed for at least a couple more hours, but it looked like lack of my proximity was enough to wake her up.
Not helping, baby doll.
“She’s up, I guess.”
I made her a cup of coffee, and five minutes later, I was back upstairs. The doors to her room were open just as I left them. Nadia stood with her back to me, fidgeting to clasp her bra. My brain short-circuited just for a moment when the images of her naked body writhing underneath me hit me first. But then, desire turned to rage.
Two bruises the size of my hands marked her back. One on her ribs, the other disappeared under the belt of her black jeans. She had a new tattoo in-between her shoulder blades, but I was too preoccupied with the bruises to pay attention.
I entered the bedroom, and placed the coffees aside, spilling some on the nightstand. The sound of Adrian’s fists connecting with her body filled my head once again.
Nadia turned around, pressing the jumper to her chest.
“Hey,” she uttered, as if nothing was wrong.
I spun her around, pressing my fingers to the bruises, bile in my throat. More things broke inside me, more of the humanity evaporated.
“I should kill him,” I seethed, barely controlling my temper.
Nadia turned around again and pulled the sweater over her head.
“I’m fine. Thank…”
“Fine?!” I grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the bathroom, heaving. Fucking hyperventilating. “This is fine to you?! This issick!”
She glared at the reflection in the mirror, her face stoic, making me feel that much worse because it was plain to see the bruises that knocked the wind out of me were just another day at the office to her; they were merely an inconvenience, like a shitty tattoo.
“It’s nothing. Stop overreacting.”