The Wrath of Cain(25)
“Woah, this is your bedroom? It’s... wow. I don’t even know what to think. This is remarkable.” I twirl around in wonder. “It all looks... I don’t know. New. Don’t you sleep here?”
Cain ignores my question.
“Come on. Let me show you the bath.”
He sounds pained, which makes me stop and glance over at him. He’s standing there with his jaw flexing, arms crossed over his chest.
“No, I want to see this,” I insist.
My feet carry me to the edge of the bed. My dirty hands reach out to feel the softness of the turquoise and brown comforter. I draw them back rapidly, afraid to stain the soft fabric. Now I’m close enough to see that an intricate design is etched into the wood, and I peer down to study it. When I do, my entire body lurches backward.
“Th… those are Calla lilies. Good God. I… I don’t understand.”
Exhaling loudly, he steps towards me, eyes heated. He stops at the end of the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I’ve never slept in here. Not once. I sleep on my couch. This is our room. At least I hoped it would be our room one day.”
“You must be joking me?” I ask, my aggressive tone masking my nervousness.
“I never joke, not when it comes to you.” He points behind him. “The bathroom is in there.”
“Wait, damnit. You can’t just let me see something so meaningful and personal, and then not tell me what it means. Why would you do something like this?”
Cain just stares at me as if I’m the one holding all the answers. His boots smack firmly against the hardwood floor when he turns and leaves. This man has thrown yet another curve ball at me, and this one’s hit me smack in the face.
My life was doing so well before I drove into this place. The daunting, unknown life I am being forced to live lies in front of me, and now I stand in the middle of a bedroom that was apparently designed for me, trying to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to manage all of this. Living with him. Being with him all the time.
We’re both hurting. So many things have been left unsaid. So many things need to be said. We’re going to have to sit down and talk all of this out in a reasonable manner, or else these deep wounds are going to fester and bleed us both dry.
I pad on dirty feet across the room and gasp when I arrive at a bathroom like I’ve never seen before.
“My God, Cain. What have you done?”
The same colors as the bedroom adorn this immaculate room. The sunken tub is like a small pool sitting right below a giant window, with a brown tiled walk-in shower off to the left of it. A long, brown vanity with teal countertops and marbled sinks takes up another wall. I’m afraid to touch a thing in here. It’s all so pristine, so unlike Cain and his manly biker dude, bossy, uncontrollable ways.
“Wow. I may skip eating and stay in this tub all night,” I whisper to myself.
I ditch my now-ruined clothing as fast as I can and practically run to the tub, where I stand naked trying to figure out how to turn the thing on. Finally, I see buttons on the floor and push them as I squat on the cold, tiled ledge surrounding the tub. The drain automatically closes and just like that it starts to fill. Reaching for a knob, I adjust the temp and wait while water splashes into it with whisper soft splatters, like the tiny tears now streaming freely down my face.
My tears drip into the water, drowning along with my emotions. I’m feeling bereft, sad, and lonely with no idea whatsoever how I’m going to come up with the right answer to this solution.
Swiping my hand across my eyes, I stand up and dip my big toe into the water. The warmth stings the cut there. I wince and ease myself forward. Pain pushed aside, relaxation sets in. I press the button to turn the water off and lean back onto the soft pillow-like padding at the opposite end, sighing loudly.
My eyes drift closed as I let the water envelop me, submerging myself completely. My hair fans out to the sides as I sink toward the bottom. When my lungs start to burn, I emerge from the depths of the water and scream when I see Cain standing there at the edge of the tub.
Water splashes over the sides as I try and gather my wits. My heart starts pounding and my breathing becomes short.
“What in the hell are you doing in here?” I yell, mortified.
I’m completely naked, lying stretched out in a tub full of clear water. He can see everything. My brain tells my hands to move and cover myself up, but I seem to be immobilized, as does he. Nothing moves on his body except those damn dark eyes of his, the same as when we saw each other earlier today for the first time. His gaze scorches down my naked body, which is on full display. At last, his smoldering, sensual gaze moves up to my eyes.
“Fuck me, I have never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life. You’re both a blessing and a curse, Calla.”
My brain finally catches up with the fact I’m naked in front of Cain for the first time in six years. I sit up in a rush of water and bring my knees to my chest, resting my chin on top of them.
“You... you shouldn’t be in here.”
“You wouldn’t answer me,” he says exasperatedly.
“Well, no shit. My head was underwater. That still doesn’t give you the right to just walk in here.”
“When you don’t answer me when I’m standing right outside of a wide open door, not to mention the fact this is my house... well, then I think I have every f*cking right. Don’t you?”