A few hours have gone by since I got back from the store and made Beau lunch. It's nighttime, and I should be on the way home, but I'm worried about Beau being alone. I am finding it hard to leave him. The hundreds of ways that his situation could become worse have been floating around in my head all day. I just can't bring myself to leave him.
"Delilah?"
"Yes?" I turn away from the TV to look at Beau.
"Why are you still here?"
"No reason." The last thing I want to do is tell him I'm worried about him. He'd make such a big deal about it.
" It's not because you're worried about me?"
"No."
"Hmm." Beau places his hand on his chin and stares at me, with an amused glint swimming in his eyes.
"What?"
"It amazes me how you think just because you can lie about being worried about me that I will believe you."
"I am not lying; it's the truth. I'm not worried about you."
"It's funny how you think I can't tell you are."
"Okay!" I finally say, exasperated. "Maybe I am worried about you, but I believe that's normal considering what you did for me. Anyone in my shoes would be worried."
"Yes, anyone in your shoes would be, so why do you feel the need to lie about it, Delilah?" He prolongs the pronunciation of my name as he says it. I always loved it when he used my full name. He is the only one that calls me by it. And he's right; I shouldn't have to deny that I'm worried. It's perfectly understandable. But I was concerned he might read too deeply into why I care.
"I didn't want to inflate that huge ego of yours." It's partially true at least.
"Whatever you say, Cher, but it's getting late. You should be on your way home," Beau says, and attempts to stand up from the couch.
I offer my hand to help him, but he pushes it away. "Will you be okay on your own?" Concern laces through my words.
"Yes, I will."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Delilah, I'll be fine."
I think about it for a second before agreeing. "Alright, if you say so, but call me if you need anything. I'll be available at all times for you," I say, picking up my handbag from the coffee table.
"I know." Beau turns and walks towards the staircase while I make my way to the front door.
"Bye," I call out before he disappears upstairs.
I'm turning the doorknob to leave when I hear a crash coming from upstairs. All thoughts of leaving rush from my mind as I run towards the staircase. I take the stairs up so quickly that I almost fall twice. But that doesn't bother me as much as what might have caused the crash.
Beau's bedroom door hits the wall with a bang as I push it open. I look around the room, trying to find Beau or what made that awful noise. Beau isn't anywhere in his room. But there's light coming from the bathroom; he must be inside. As I walk towards the bathroom, my heart starts to beat hard against my ribcage. If he's in there, it just makes things worse. There's so many ways he could have harmed himself. I open the door, and the scene before me makes my heart drop.
"Oh my God, Beau!" I rush to his side and try my best to not step on the broken glass scattered across the floor. "What happened?" I ask, looking at the blood dripping from his right elbow and the broken mirror above the sink.
"I was trying to take off my clothes."
"I don't understand." I look at him, confused.
"I was trying to slowly take off my shirt because I couldn't do it quickly with my injuries. When the shirt covered my face, all that was left was pulling it off. I tried to do it quickly but then lost my balance and hit my elbow on the mirror."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me see." I take his arm and check the wound. The cut is small; I am sure it was through the shirt. "Where do you keep your first aid kit?" I ask, looking around for it.
"There," Beau points to one of the drawers above the sink.
"Alright, let me get it and clean your wound. Why don't you sit and wait for me?" I suggest, walking Beau to the bathtub's edge. I help him sit down before returning to get the first aid kit.
Once I have it, I walk back over to Beau. The whole time I'm cleaning and dressing his cut, Beau is staring at me, and I wonder why.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He's still staring at me even though I've finished bandaging his elbow and I'm putting the first aid kit away.
"Because I can't believe it."
"Believe what?" I ask, staring back at him.
Beau doesn't say anything for a good minute, just continuing to stare at me. Finally, he stands up and walks to where I'm standing by the sink. He grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. Warmth spreads across my back as his hand rests on my waist. I manage to stop my body from crashing into his by placing my hands on his chest. My right hand vibrates as his heart beats fast under it. I wonder why his heart is beating so fast. I feel my own heartrate increase as I slowly lift my eyes and they lock with his. His beautiful gray eyes gaze into mine, and I feel like he can see my soul. His eyes leave mine and move lower down my face. I see a look from him that I haven't seen in ages. It's the same look he had when he...
Oh my God, is that what he wants to do? No, he couldn't. It's bad enough I've been trying to deceive myself into believing that I don't like his hands on me. But if he does that, then I'll lose my mind. For the past few weeks, I haven't asked myself the one question I should've asked the first day Beau laid his hands on me. I've been scared to because I know the answer would not be what I want. But I can bet if he does what his eyes are telling me he wants to do, then I'll get my answer, so I don't fight it. My eyes drift close, and I wait.
I smell him before I taste him. The intoxicating scent of his cologne engulfs me. Then, his lips touch mine and they still taste the same as the first day I kissed him. A part of me wants to enjoy this moment, get lost in it, but another just wants my answer. Not thinking, I let my body decide. My hands instantly go around Beau's neck as his arms wrap around my waist. My entire body melts into his as his alluring taste fills my mouth. Beau deepens the kiss, and I let him. His hand goes under my shirt and roams all over my back. Every single place he touches burns for more. I resist the urge to moan.
Beau pulls away after what seems like forever and places his forehead against mine while we both try to catch our breath.
"I love you, Cher, and I am going to make you fall in love with me again," Beau says, still out of breath, with great determination in his voice.
I look at him, confused. I'm not sure my ears are functioning well today. Did he just say those words to me? I take a step away from him and shake my head, thinking maybe I've lost my hearing.
"Delilah, is everything okay?" Beau asks, placing his hand on mine.
"Yes, everything is fine," I say, moving my hand away from his. It's probably not a good idea to have his hands around me after what he just said. I can't believe he said those words. Does he actually mean it? It's been seven years since we last saw each other—let's even not mention why. Is it possible that he's telling the truth? The look in his eyes says that he is, but what makes now different from before? He had the same sincere look then, and I ended up in tears a few months after he told me.
"Delilah," Beau calls, his voice raised. I look at him, confused as to why he is shouting. "You almost walked on broken glass."
I look down and see my foot is only an inch away from a piece of glass. "Oh, thank you." I step away from the broken shards.
"What's on your mind? You look worried about something." Beau asks, making me face him. He pulls me closer and wraps his arms securely around me.
"No, nothing is on my mind. Why would you think something is on my mind?" I reply, avoiding eye contact. How can he ask me that? He just told me he loves me after seven years apart. Of course, something is on my mind, Beau.
"I know, my confession must have shocked you, but you shouldn't be surprised, Delilah. What other reason would I be here meddling in your affairs?"
"I don't know; maybe you came to check if you had successfully destroyed my life when you broke my heart."
"Mon amour, I am sorry for what I did. If I could go back in time, I would do it again, but I am sorry for the pain it caused you." Beau places his palm on my face. I gaze into his eyes, and for a moment, I wish he didn't have as much sincerity in them because I can't believe he means his words.
I move my face away from his as tears begin to fill my eyes. How could he say he would do it again? Does he hate me that much? I don't understand. How can he claim he loves me but then tell me he would break my heart for the second time? Once I'm sure I won't cry, I look at him again, glaring with bloodshot eyes. I want to make sure he sees my hatred for him, because it is the only thing he will ever make me feel for him. I am never going to fall for him again—never.
"I hate you," I say, venom dripping as I speak.
Beau is not surprised by my words, he shows no emotion. His hand reaches for me, but I move away before he can touch me. I pick up my handbag from the sink and leave the bathroom. But I don't just walk out of the bathroom. I walk through his bedroom and then out the front door. I don't even turn back to check if he's following me. I don't care.
My legs give out the second I step into the elevator. I hug my knees to my chest as a big wail rips out of me. I hate you, Beau Williams; I hate you. I scream into the elevator walls. My heart feels like it has been ripped apart. I can't believe I was starting to fall for such a monster again. I can't believe I let him touch my body—and that I actually enjoyed it. Feelings of self-disgust consume me. I bury my face in my knees as more tears fall. Why can't I be free of this man, God? It's been seven years, I've had seven good years without him, and he still brings me to my knees like this? Don't I deserve a happy life? Please tell me why you are punishing me, God? I don't understand. I just want to be happy. Happy and free of the pain Beau Williams causes me. Why can't I have that, God? Why?