I can't sleep without him, not with Aurora's request stuck in my head like a song on repeat. I do as she asks, I think it over without the choice not to. I imagine the look of Nicodra's face without any life behind it.
There would have to be a plan-a way to keep David out of it. Enough in his drink to make him sick. Aurora would excuse the both of them because of it and walk back to their guest house under the cover of night. She'd forget something, maybe a bag, and I'd run it out to her while David remained safe inside. We would do it then, I think. He'd be too sick, too weak by then, to fight back.
The second day without David, I spend in bed.
Jeremy comes to see me and apologizes for his absence the day before. I tell him I'm sick. He knows it's an illness caused by my empty bed, but he leaves me be. Helena-regardless of my giving her the day off-stays to deliver my three meals to the bedroom.
At midnight on my third night alone, I shower in his bathroom. I smell the products and rub them into my hair and body. I stay in the glass box for far too long with my eyes closed, pretending my hands are his, convincing myself that the sturdiness of the wall is his chest. But when my eyes open, and he isn't there, my heart aches.
I think I'm dreaming that night when sounds alert me from downstairs. I reach for my phone and see missed calls and messages that went unnoticed two hours ago during my shower. My eyes scan them over in a flash before I'm scrambling out from beneath the blanket. David's clothes catch wind as I dash out of the room and down the hall. His scent is fresh in the air, and the sounds flow out from the kitchen. I seemingly slide down the steps and run with all my might in that direction.
He's already looking at the archway when I appear in it, breathing heavily with eyes of gratitude. I bite my lip and crash myself into him, bringing my arms around his solid body and burying my face in his shoulder. He laughs and says, "I thought you were asleep. What are you doing up?"
I want to cry about my sleeplessness, about Aurora, about my missing him terribly. He strokes my crinkled hair and asks, "Is this mine?" As he grabs the fabric of his shirt.
I move away only to hold his face in my hands. My heart can finally settle, and my mind can go quiet.
"Promise me you won't leave ever again," I say. "Everything-it falls apart without you."
What I really meant was I fall apart without you.
"Tarlo told me everything went just fine."
I shake my head. "No. It didn't. I was not fine."
He pulls me against him like he does, and I pray I don't wake in our bed. This can't be a dream; he's still alive.
"What happened?" He asks, rubbing my back. "Weren't you busy with Jeremy?"
"You were gone for too long," I whisper, keeping the whole truth in a locked place in my mind until I decide whether or not to let it out. I relax when the top of his nose presses into my scalp and his lips kiss my hair.
"You smell like me."
"Don't think I've gone insane," I murmur. "It's the bond. It made me do all these things against my will."
He continues to stroke my hair as he asks, "What are you doing up, then? It's three in the morning."
"I couldn't sleep. I heard you."
"I was going to grab something to eat then head up. You go on to bed and I'll be right there."
"I'll stay with you," I say and move away to open the fridge. "Helena made all of this food. Roasted potatoes, salmon, carrots and broccoli, there's almost a whole roast chicken too. There are blueberry muffins in that container over there, and chocolate cake that she made to cheer me up, but I cried a little on it so I don't know if you want that. How about some of everything?"
He watches me. "I missed you too," he says when I peer back at him.
I sit on the counter as he eats. The bad thoughts still linger, but they're easier to avoid when he's here with me. Every couple bites he gives me some as if he's assuming I haven't been eating much. He must know that the food stored in there was meant for me, but I'm happier seeing him eat it.
I hold his free hand on top of my thigh as he controls the fork with his other. My thumbs draw circles against the back of his hand, feeling, assuring myself.
"That looks good on you," he says, referring to his shirt.
"I'm just glad you're home. It was so strange here without you."
"It was strange not having you around as well. Everything went smoothly for once, and I hated every second of it."
"So you saw your father? Is he doing okay?"
David straightens up. "Actually, he came back with me. Right when we got here two or so hours ago, I helped him settle in one of the guest houses."
"Oh, wow." I let out a nervous laugh. "So he's-your father is here. I'm going to meet him?"
David nods. "Tomorrow. He said you're the first thing he wants to see before anything or anyone else."
"Really? So did you ask him to come back? Did he want to?"
"We talked about my life first, and the pack, so I could let him know what's happened while he was gone. He said he felt like it was time for him to come home if it was alright with me. The journey back gave us the time we needed; I think he's doing okay so far." David warns me, "He isn't the same man he used to be. I can tell my mother's death... affected him."
"But this is a step in the right direction for him," I say. "It sounds like he wants to know you again-to be in your life."
"Someone will have to help care for all those children you keep telling everyone you're going to have."
"That's true," I play along. "I hope your Dad likes kids."
David quickly cleans up. Once he's done, and the clock is nearing four, he steps between my legs and says, "Come on. Let's go to bed, at least for a bit."
"I'm too nervous to sleep," I protest. "Now I can't stop thinking about meeting your father."
David turns around and lets me ride on his back. "Then you can lay there while I sleep. But I promise you, the second we hit the mattress, you'll be out."
I rest my chin on his shoulder as we take off down the hall. "What if I go to sleep and wake up, and all of this was just a dream, and you're not really home?"
"Then you better keep that shirt on because you'll be needing it."
I place the sweetest of kisses on the sides and back of his neck as he climbs the stairs. Being with him for the past hour has brought me so much joy that I would no longer be upset if this was a dream. At least for once, my mind soothed me.
"Maybe I should leave more often," David says. We enter the bedroom and he drops me on the bed. I crawl to my place and fix everything up as he prepares for sleep. "It was difficult to sleep without you there in my arms," he says from the bathroom. He shuts off the sink and walks across the room into the closet.
I sit against the headboard but suddenly decide to open the windows so the breeze will cause the drapery of the canopy to sway. It will give me something to look at just in case I really am too anxious to fall asleep.
David comes out just as I return to the blankets. Not even a second after he lays down do I fit myself against him. "This is much better," he sighs.
"Promise you'll be here when I walk up, even if you have to wake me before you go."
"I promise, now go to bed," he tells me, "I'll be right here the whole time."
The bottle of the wine chills my hand as I pour another glass. The red liquid whirls around then settles, untainted. I take it and David's as well, walking to the dining room in the white, silky dress. It slips against my knees with every step, and my heels click against the floor.
David is sitting there when I enter, under the chandelier-I look at it and hope it breaks from the ceiling and crushes me. "You look perfect," he says.
I place his glass above his plate; he takes it immediately and drinks, startling me, causing me to drop my own. He sets down his wine and blocks me from the broken glass on the table, getting up and gathering the shards that were shattered against the porcelain. My eyes never leave him.
With each shard resting in his palm, he faces me, muttering that it's alright. It was supposed to be over by now. I look to my wine splattered all over the table and step in front of him before he can take the glass to the garbage. I clench my jaw and take the largest piece, swiftly driving it into his-
My eyes open. I feel the remnants of a tear join my hairline just above my ear. David tightens his hold and mutters, "You were moving too much. I thought you would relax if I held you like this."
I squeeze out the last bits of wetness from my eyes and say, "Sorry. I'll be still."
"I have to get up soon."
"Please," I groan, "don't go. Fall back asleep; I won't move."
He leaves a kiss behind my ear, then another. I turn into his chest and cling to his body. "Stay in bed," he says. "I'll have Helena wake you in an hour or two."
My sleepiness must be masking my seriousness because he clearly does not see how badly I need him to stay. Demanding he remain here would be utterly selfish, so I move closer and hold tighter. His fingers glide up and down my back, pushing up my shirt and pacifying the residual fragments of my nightmare. Just as I feel myself slipping away, David stops. He draws every sense of himself from me and leaves me in a sea of white sheets, floating aimlessly with nowhere to go but down.