murmurs, “Pity.”
Then he steps away from me.
And the intense mood is lifted. The electricity between us is alleviated for the time being, although I know that won’t last long. There is an attraction between us, something dark and fierce and I would be a fool to not acknowledge it. And I’d probably be a fool to give in to it, as well.
“What time will you be visiting with my mother this evening?”
He’s polite and casual now and his posture is relaxed. Yes, the charged atmosphere is gone. I can breathe again.
“I think around 8:00 pm. Will that work for you?”
He nods. “That will be fine. Please stop by my study afterward. I’d like a report.”
I nod. “Of course.”
And he turns and walks away without another word. Grendel walks with him, once again perfectly attuned to his master’s movements. I watch them until they are quite a ways away before I take another step.
Luca never looks back.
Chapter Thirteen
Luca
I feel her watching. Evangeline’s gaze is firmly implanted between my shoulder blades and I fight the urge to turn, to return to her side and continue speaking with her, to continue breathing her in. She smells of fresh air and flowers and I have been taken off guard by the connection that I feel with this woman. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.
I wish I wasn’t feeling it now.
There’s no way I can tell her to stay away from me, that I’m dangerous for her. It would sound ridiculous, like stuff that fiction and legend are made of. I am not Heathcliff and she is not Catherine, although the reasons that separate us are different from those of that fabled pair. Heathcliff was tortured because he could not have his Love. I will be tortured regardless, but I refuse to drag anyone else into it, which might be my single redeeming quality.
And so I walk away.
Grendel and I make our way over the damp beach back to Chessarae and as I do, a familiar feeling begins to grow from within me and with it, I feel a heavy weight on my chest. My vision blurs, then focuses and I want to punch a wall as immediate and profound rage explodes inside of me.
I am surprised, taken aback, aghast.
It’s back. Already.
I swallow hard as the light begins to pull away from the corners of my eyes and the blackness threatens to overtake me. It is imminent. I don’t have much time. This onset was sudden, more so than most times.
I feel the same sense of comfort that I always feel as I pass through my property gates, but it is dimmed this time. Many things are dimmed right now, my emotions are dulled even while some of my senses are heightened. My feet sink into Chessarae soil and I sigh. Chessarae is my refuge. I draw strength from the solitude. It will keep me safe.
But rather than going into the house, into the stone bricks and mortar that I call home, I quickly follow the trails into the garden that lead me through the English Maze. The flowering bushes are fragrant, but I bear them no mind, even though my sense of smell has been awakened, as if from a long slumber. I can smell everything right now, the lilies, the lavender, the roses.
I wind my way to the center of the maze and when I reach it, I find myself in a familiar oasis. There is a small bubbling pond here with a fountain, benches and a circle of white marble statues. The twelve Greek Olympians stare at me with lifeless marble eyes. They know the secret that is contained here in this oasis. They have watched me come and go many times before.
My vision blurs once more and I focus hard on holding off the blackness. It is coming, but I am almost there. My stomach muscles strain as I hold them tensely, my entire body coiled as I fight this internal battle.
I stride quickly around the pond and approach a large statue of Hades on the other side. That the god of the Underworld guards this particular secret is an irony
Then he steps away from me.
And the intense mood is lifted. The electricity between us is alleviated for the time being, although I know that won’t last long. There is an attraction between us, something dark and fierce and I would be a fool to not acknowledge it. And I’d probably be a fool to give in to it, as well.
“What time will you be visiting with my mother this evening?”
He’s polite and casual now and his posture is relaxed. Yes, the charged atmosphere is gone. I can breathe again.
“I think around 8:00 pm. Will that work for you?”
He nods. “That will be fine. Please stop by my study afterward. I’d like a report.”
I nod. “Of course.”
And he turns and walks away without another word. Grendel walks with him, once again perfectly attuned to his master’s movements. I watch them until they are quite a ways away before I take another step.
Luca never looks back.
Chapter Thirteen
Luca
I feel her watching. Evangeline’s gaze is firmly implanted between my shoulder blades and I fight the urge to turn, to return to her side and continue speaking with her, to continue breathing her in. She smells of fresh air and flowers and I have been taken off guard by the connection that I feel with this woman. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.
I wish I wasn’t feeling it now.
There’s no way I can tell her to stay away from me, that I’m dangerous for her. It would sound ridiculous, like stuff that fiction and legend are made of. I am not Heathcliff and she is not Catherine, although the reasons that separate us are different from those of that fabled pair. Heathcliff was tortured because he could not have his Love. I will be tortured regardless, but I refuse to drag anyone else into it, which might be my single redeeming quality.
And so I walk away.
Grendel and I make our way over the damp beach back to Chessarae and as I do, a familiar feeling begins to grow from within me and with it, I feel a heavy weight on my chest. My vision blurs, then focuses and I want to punch a wall as immediate and profound rage explodes inside of me.
I am surprised, taken aback, aghast.
It’s back. Already.
I swallow hard as the light begins to pull away from the corners of my eyes and the blackness threatens to overtake me. It is imminent. I don’t have much time. This onset was sudden, more so than most times.
I feel the same sense of comfort that I always feel as I pass through my property gates, but it is dimmed this time. Many things are dimmed right now, my emotions are dulled even while some of my senses are heightened. My feet sink into Chessarae soil and I sigh. Chessarae is my refuge. I draw strength from the solitude. It will keep me safe.
But rather than going into the house, into the stone bricks and mortar that I call home, I quickly follow the trails into the garden that lead me through the English Maze. The flowering bushes are fragrant, but I bear them no mind, even though my sense of smell has been awakened, as if from a long slumber. I can smell everything right now, the lilies, the lavender, the roses.
I wind my way to the center of the maze and when I reach it, I find myself in a familiar oasis. There is a small bubbling pond here with a fountain, benches and a circle of white marble statues. The twelve Greek Olympians stare at me with lifeless marble eyes. They know the secret that is contained here in this oasis. They have watched me come and go many times before.
My vision blurs once more and I focus hard on holding off the blackness. It is coming, but I am almost there. My stomach muscles strain as I hold them tensely, my entire body coiled as I fight this internal battle.
I stride quickly around the pond and approach a large statue of Hades on the other side. That the god of the Underworld guards this particular secret is an irony
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