The Fates (Book I) - 2014 Watty Award Winner!

5.8 - The Reason

Dear Readers: Let's head back to Eldor's perfect little house by the Acropolis, where Atria has just spent the night safe and sound... Will she stay another day, or revert to her old ways and run away...?

____________________

Scene 8: The Reason

A.D. 2015

She heard his voice, as she began down the stairs. Having gotten out of bed as soon as she awoke, hurriedly washed up and rushed out into the hallway, not about to overstay her welcome in his guestroom. Or in his house. She had to step out, get some air. Maybe never come back.

He was on the phone with someone, Atria figured. With a girl. He sounded happy. And that made her sad. Why was her heart so stupid?

She saw him, as she neared the bottom stair. Standing at the far end of the living room, with his back toward her, so that he wouldn’t even see her if she wanted to slip out. He had asked her to promise not to leave again without saying goodbye. Maybe she’d agreed, with a weak nod, last night—but she had been half-conscious, right? That didn’t count.

“Yes. And you can include the place in your guidebook this time. In fact, you probably have to—the Acropolis is rather iconic, after all,” Eldor spoke into the receiver. Happily. Almost giddily. Ugh.

On the other end replied a voice that Atria couldn’t hear, from this distance, but already resented. She tiptoed toward the front door.

“It’s really my pleasure. And thank you again for understanding about last night,” he expressed. “Okay; sounds great. I’ll see you soon.”

Damn it—the call was ending. She had almost escaped.

“Hey…!” he exclaimed as soon as he’d hung up, coming toward her as she approached the foyer. “Heading out already?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back.” Atria wasn’t sure yet whether she was lying.

“Okay,” he uttered, doubtful and concerned. “Did you sleep well?”

She proceeded toward the door. “Like a baby, thanks. Bye.”

“Atria…”

The way he breathed her name, then, made her stop. It sounded too much like the boy from the attic. As if they had never grown up. Even if she could shut out the man, the perfect man he had become, leave him behind without a real goodbye, all for self-preservation and to keep on getting by—she couldn’t do that to the boy. It wasn’t right.

She stood still, pursed her lips and heaved a sigh. “Sorry,” she murmured, meaning it. “I just… I’m just not really used to this.”

He came a little closer, cocked his head. “Used to what?”

“Us,” she blurted out, immediately feeling the need to elaborate. “I mean—being in the same house, in the same room as you. It’s… it’s been a long time, you know? Since those days. Since… that night.”

His head dipped in a low, heavy nod. “It has. Fifteen years. You were so young; we both were.” A pause. “You still think about that?”

Atria shrugged, her faltering heart not strong enough to let her meet his gaze. “It’s hard not to, around you. Just need some air, okay?”

“Of course. Let’s… sit out on the porch?” he suggested, clearly eager for her not to leave the premises. His otherwise fearless soul afraid of never seeing her again. “Or the balcony upstairs? It gets some great air…”