Page 35 of Whispers of Helena
But the time for half truths is over. The time I gave myself to be cautious, to set roots, is long gone. I open the door, closing and locking it behind me. I remove my boots and coat, hanging my hat. The water droplets fall from the brim, tapping the rug in a rhythm like a clock. I walk up the stairs to my room, pushing through the door.
The wind picks up outside as if it can sense my turmoil. Turning the shower on hot, I face the mirror, dropping my veil. Carrying my appearance is exhausting. When Silas kissed me, I almost let it drop, too lost in the moment. I stare at the imagebefore me, remembering who I am. Thinking through every moment of the last two hours.
When they sent me here, they said it would be hard to watch him and not break before the right time. And it’s true. The first time I heard his steps in the kitchen, my entire body froze. I could barely turn to look at him. And when I did, I only wanted to run to him. To have him wrap his strong arms around me again.
But he isn’t ready. He has built such a carefully crafted world here. If I shocked him like that, his existence would crumble and the insanity would set in, bonding him even further to this land.
Once I’m in my gown, I slip into bed, Silas’s eyes still burning in my mind. Exhausted, I lay down. Closing my eyes, I say the prayer I’ve repeated each day I’ve been here.
Lord, help him remember.
Damage
Silas
The storm outsideis nothing compared to the one twisting inside me. Rain hammers the windows, each drop a reminder of Helena’s words slicing through me. I pace my room like a caged animal, restless energy coiling tighter with every step. Her calm, firm voice echoes in my skull, a ghost I can’t exorcise. She’s in her room now, just next door, just a wall and a mountain of mistakes separating us. But she might as well be in another world.
My gaze lands on the empty armchair in the corner, a void as stark as the one in my chest. It used to be sacred—Caroline’s space. She’d curl up there, lost in one of her books, her hair falling like a curtain across her face. That chair hasn’t been touched since the day we lost her, but tonight, the thought of Helena there slips into my mind without invitation. I shake it off; the guilt punching through me like a fist to the gut. Would imagining her there desecrate the memory of someone I loved so fiercely?
I collapse onto the edge of the bed, running a hand through my damp hair, feeling the storm’s humidity clinging to my skin. No matter how far I walk or run from Helena, she’s still there. Her eyes, her voice, her body. Her presence cuts through my defenses with every glance, carving a space in me I don’t know how to protect.
The faint hiss of water stops; her shower finished. Footsteps shuffle, muffled through the wall, and I swear my pulse quickens, like some primal part of me thinks she’s close. I’ve been riding this current for too long now. First the storm, then the cattle, and then her lips. Moonlight streams through my window now, but it does nothing to settle me.
Enough of this. I can’t sit here drowning in these thoughts anymore. I grab my keys from the bedside table and head downstairs. I need air, space, anything to clear my head.
But halfway through the kitchen, Eli’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Where are you off to, Silas?”
I stop in my tracks, his tone unhurried, like he’s been waiting. He’s slouched in one of the armchairs in the living room, the light from the lamp beside him illuminating his face. His eyes catch mine, dark and knowing, like he’s reading all the things I’m working hard to keep buried.
I grip my keys tighter. “I need to work off some energy.”
“Storm got you that riled up, huh? Or is it Helena?” His voice is smooth.
“It’s the storm.” My reply is clipped. “And I’ll thank you to stay out of my business.”
He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head like he’s considering something. “She’s your employee, Silas. You don’t want to let this get messy.”
“I’m well aware. It was a misunderstanding,” I snap, turning to leave.
Eli leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s okay to feel something, you know. Just do right by her.”
I whirl around, my jaw tight, my knuckles white against the keys in my hand. “There’s nothing to feel, Eli. She’s just...someone working here. That’s all.”
He lets out a low chuckle, more pitying than amused. “If it’s that hard to say it, maybe you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.”
My chest tightens, anger flickering against something raw. Imove toward the door, desperate to escape this conversation before it peels back too many layers.
“She’s more than you think she is, Silas,” Eli calls from the living room as I grip the doorknob. His words hang heavily in the air, forcing me to pause.
What the hell does he think he knows? Everyone seems to have their advice, their damn opinions about me tonight. I grab a dry hat, push the door open, and walk to the stables.
When I reach the building, I pull back the door and walk straight to Shadow. His ears flick toward me as I place my hand on his neck. Shadow always has a way of calming me. We have a connection like I’ve never experienced with any other beast. As I run my hand up and down his smooth coat, my pulse calms, my breaths even out.
“What am I going to do, Shadow?”
He huffs out a breath, like he doesn’t have an answer for me. I sit on the bale of hay in his stall and pull my Stetson down over my eyes. Maybe here I can find enough peace to get some sleep.
“Silas?”
