The Falling (Brightest Stars, #1)(84)

I threw in a load of laundry before turning to the unwashed pile of dishes and glasses in the sink. I hated hand-washing and reminded myself that one day I would finally buy a dishwasher. I hadn’t done much and had slept most of the day, but my head ached and I took a Tylenol and gulped down a glass of water before making my way back to my room. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of Kael. I remembered the first day I saw him in the lobby at work—the mysterious client who later refused to take off his sweats or let me touch his right leg. Now he wasn’t a stranger, but he still hadn’t shown me his legs, not once. He was always dressed from the waist down, and I cared too much about his trauma to force him to explain. There were so many other beautiful parts of him that he didn’t keep a secret. Maybe he would tell me, or even show me the rest, when he was ready.

I remembered how close we felt a few hours ago. The way I held his hand in mine. Holding his hand like that . . . touching each of his fingers, tracing the little creases around his knuckles . . . his hand in mine was the best remedy to ease the paranoia of the secrets he kept. I loved his hands—how big they were, how strong. I thought of how they held me, touched me, comforted me. I dozed off again and woke up to Kael standing over me, watching me sleep. He looked like a prince out of a movie, wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweats. Maybe I was groggy, maybe I was losing my mind, but he was so beautiful and I missed him so much. I yanked on his arm, bringing him to me.

“Hey.” He curled his body into mine. I clung to him like he had been away at war.

“How is Mendoza?” I felt unsettled but didn’t want to ruin the moment now that he was back. Silence fell between us. He took a deep breath and I held mine.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” he asked, completely ignoring my question.

I had to make a choice. Press him for an answer about Mendoza and risk him closing off and turning distant or let him decide what parts of him I could access.

I nodded, trying to keep my emotions at bay. I lifted my head up to kiss him and his arms wrapped around me, hugging my body as close to his as it could get.

“I missed you. Too much,” he said against my forehead.

And even though I knew this was too good to be true and the red flags were piling up, I held on to him and decided to take whatever it was he would give me. I should have remembered that not all fairy tales end in happily ever after.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR




With Elodie off on her weekend girls’ trip, Kael and I played house for a couple days, never leaving limbo. I begged off work, ensuring with Mali that my clients would reschedule. Kael and I stayed in the house and ordered food when we felt like it. He made me want to do nothing except lie next to him all day. Not even having sex, just listening to his theories about the world, how it began and how it would end. When he sensed the conversation was too heavy and too bleak, he switched topics to show me a YouTube video on the conspiracy that Shakespeare had a ghostwriter. I rolled my eyes, telling him that insulting Shakespeare was a crime in my house, and he lifted his body on top of mine, offering kisses to avoid any penalty.

What I felt for Kael was something between sweet infatuation and total annihilation. It was powerful and raw. He was as fierce as an animal, and yet so kind and gentle. He was a bundle of contradictions. Even so, it felt secure and calm to be with him, not the chaos that being in love advertised. I was happy in this moment, when I stopped thinking about the short time we would have together. It was terrifying to let my guard down, but it was thrilling to immerse myself in this intimacy with Kael.

As he slept on my chest, and again when he woke up in the middle of the night asking for someone named Nielson, then shouting Phillip’s name, he was drenched in sweat. He pulled me close to hug him, moved my hair from my ear, and whispered: “Run.”

A chill went through my entire body, but I didn’t move. I hugged him back and gently rubbed his shoulder, telling him that everything would be okay, even if I knew that was a promise I couldn’t deliver. Kael’s war trauma made my problems and worries feel small and insignificant. I made a commitment to myself that, because of Kael, I would confront my fears and stop letting the terrible unknown control everything. I deserved to let go and live—really live. And he deserved the version of me who didn’t need an answer to every question.


We had spent all the prior afternoon, evening, and night in bed, then finally it was Sunday morning and I had to go to work in the late afternoon. I absolutely had to show up today, or Mali would probably come to my house and drag me to the spa herself. Kael and I had baked Elodie’s can of cinnamon rolls for breakfast and I made a pot of coffee that tasted like shit, but I drank it anyway. The rolls were gooey and warm and yummy, even sweeter when Kael kissed me with the faint taste of icing on his lips.

“When this ends, what do we do?” I asked flatly.

“What ends?” He was quiet as the seconds ticked by, but I sensed he knew exactly what I was talking about. “We remember this,” he finally said, sealing his words with a kiss.

I had lost count of them at this point. I wanted to start all over and have another first, second, third kiss with him.

We were behaving so domestically; I had lent Kael a set of Phillip’s PT clothing from Elodie’s bureau to wear while he washed his sweats and T-shirt in my kitchen laundry. I pushed a pile of my laundry out of his way to make room as he transferred his wet clothes from the washer to the dryer and then went back to my room to put on my jeans and a comfortable baggy sweatshirt. A few minutes later, Kael appeared in my doorway with all my clean clothes, neatly folded, and asked where they should go. I shrugged and motioned to the dresser, and he set them down on top, then followed me into the bathroom. While I brushed my teeth he swished some mouthwash around his mouth, opting for something antiseptic and medicinal in lieu of my minty toothpaste.