Page 27 of Queen of Ruin

Evangeline’s eyes flutter open a fraction as the group nears us. She watches as I inhale her scent on my finger, wishing I could taste her. She presses her skirt back down and I close the gap of her trench coat, securing the belt like a doting husband. I smile at the unsuspecting group as I take Evangeline’s hand and lead her outside to the steps where Bailey is waiting at the curb with the car. I haven’t gone down a flight of stairs this fast since I was a child, and the minute we’re safely tucked into the back of the sedan with the privacy window up, I turn to Evangeline and say, “Now, be a good wife and sit on my face.”

10

CONFESSION

EVANGELINE

It’s still dark out, and when I look at the alarm clock on the bedside table, morning is still a long way off. I turn slowly so as not to wake Darren and burrow myself against his warm chest.

The cold, antique couch in the front room must be lonely tonight without him draped across its uncomfortable cushions.

He moans deeply, and I feel the vibration against my cheek. His arms tighten around me, but he doesn’t say anything. Only the slow, lazy circles he draws on my back let me know he’s awake. We’re a tangle of arms and legs under the blankets. Even with the heater on, the house is still drafty and cold.

His fingers dance up my back and push the hair off my shoulder so he can lean down to press a kiss on the top of my shoulder, and his lips linger as if he’s fallen back asleep.

We came home from the museum, went to bed, and never came out.

He may pretend not to care about anything, but deep below the murky golds and greens of his eyes lies a man with a deep passion for history with a poet's heart, even if he doesn’t think so himself.

Perhaps I find it hard to sleep because my conscience is weighing heavily upon me. I don’t want there to be anymore secrets between us, and Darren deserves to know the truth.

I dig my fingers into his chest and feel his body wake up in response. The admission is on my tongue like sour candy, and if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I’ll have the courage later.

“My mother’s alive,” I whisper, and feel the playful circles falter against my back like the skipping of a record.

All I hear is his breathing and the soft patter of rain against the windowpane. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking, and every second of silence is killing me because Darren isn’t one to usually hold his tongue.

“I know.”

I push away from him enough so that I can see his face. He stares at me, but there’s no anger in his eyes.

Of course he knew. A man with resources such as Darren’s would definitely have looked into my past, especially before he married me. I can hardly be mad about it. “You let me lie.”

He sighs, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I figured you had a good reason.”

I stare at the fine hairs that dust his chest and count the freckles caused by too many lazy days spent in the sun.

When I venture to look at his face again. His eyes are closed, but I know he hasn’t fallen back asleep. He cups the back of my head and pulls me closer to him, his body curling around mine.

“You’re not upset with me?” I ask into his chest.

“Aren’t we done being angry with each other?” His voice is quiet and hoarse like the sound of kindling firewood.

“That’s not good enough, Darren.”

“Lies aren’t equal, Evan. There’s no one keeping score. And when it comes to parents, I have enough understanding – especially when it’s about your parents – not mine.”

The heaviness in my chest only expands, and his words threaten to unravel me. “I said she was dead because it was easier than admitting she knew what I did for a living.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me anymore.”

I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

“I don’t remember my father,” I admit. “I was really young when he died.”

Darren tucks my head further into the crook of his neck, resting his chin against me.

“His death changed my mother, but I didn’t notice until there was no going back and I didn’t recognize her anymore.”

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