Knowing Me, Knowing You | (S/P)

Chapter 33

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Nathaniel

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An array of thoughts run through my mind, sheer confusion and consternation being the preeminent. I'm not being able to put any of them into words as I watch Alexia walk into my apartment. She goes directly to the kitchen and pours herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

I follow her from a short distance. It would be disingenuous of mine if I told you I have the most miniscule of ideas of what is happening here. Did she just...?

I sense her discomfort by the way she keeps shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and by the irregular clinking of the spoon against the porcelain mug. She's giving me her back and I cannot read her expression, but I did notice how red and swollen her eyes were, as if she had been crying for a long time.

"Alexia," I take some tentative steps towards her, standing by the countertop.

God, this woman confuses me in levels I can't comprehend. I've been so mad at her these past days –so mad to the point that it made me sick.

But I can't pretend that I wasn't even angrier at myself, because no matter how upset I was, how immature I thought of her behavior, I knew that she was as hurt as I was. I knew that I had put her in the middle of a situation that she wasn't ready to handle –that she shouldn't have had to handle – and that knowledge was slowly killing me.

Consequently, finding her casually standing on my door after everything, seeing how distressed she is right now and do nothing would be like swallowing thorns.

"Have you been crying?" She finally turns around, and the biting of her lips tells me she's scared that more tears will appear if she opens her mouth.

"Could you just hug me, please?" Oh, baby.

I erase the distance between us with two long strides, surrounding her with my arms as tight as I can. She buries her face against my chest and I take my opportunity to nuzzle her hair, getting my dose of that ever-present coconut scent that I've been missing.

My moment of indulgence shatters as soon as I hear a sob escape her lips. "What is it? Did something happen?"

"This is one of the hardest things that I've had to do," She sniffs through her nose, her eyes still cast down, "but I need to tell you about Mason –I need to tell you about my brother."

"Okay."

I take her hand in mine and walk us towards the living room. Once we're settled in the larger sofa, her gaze finally raises to meet mine. The pools of honey brown are a shade darker, a hint of melancholy and something else I can't discern...regret, perhaps?

My heart pounds like a racing horse against my chest. I have no idea of what she's going to disclose. She fidgets with her hands on her lap, taking deep breaths, opening her mouth and closing it again several time before she finds her voice.

"When I was six, I started taking ballet lessons. All of my friends did, and my mom loved the idea of sipping coffee with the other mothers every afternoon. But I sucked at it, Nathaniel, I was awfully bad." I think of a little Alexia with rosy cheeks and a ballet skirt and my heart warms. "The other girls would laugh at me and I'd always come back home crying. One of those times, my brother squeezed himself into one of my tutus to practice with me. That's the earliest memory I have of him."

She makes a pause, seeming to be collecting her thoughts. I fight the urge to touch her, to pull my arms around her.

"Like I've told you, I was a handful while growing up. My parents worked a lot and it was more than what they could handle." I knew she didn't have a regular, close relationship with her parents, but to what extent remained unknown. "And although Mason was just five years older than me, he made a damn good older brother."