Page 85 of Lust
“How are things with Sara?”
“Good. Her twentieth birthday is coming up in a few weeks. So, planning a few things for the occasion.”
“Hmm. You seem happy.”
I tried to hide the grin by extending my index finger over my lips. It was ridiculous to have this big of a smile stretching over my face, but when I tried to subdue it, I felt it expand.
Yes, I was happy, sans a tiny complaint. I was losing my taste buds.
Fucking weird. I couldn’t taste salt anymore. It started a few nights ago when Sara and I ordered takeout. I had winced at the bland taste. Meanwhile, Sara complained that it was too salty.
I had paused midway of sprinkling more of the condiment out of a disposable salt packet that came with the takeout. My vanity hadn’t entirely vanished and wouldn’t allow me to admit the loss of taste. I had grudgingly dug into the flavorless food.
Since then, everything I ate tasted bland.
Besides the troubling early onset of losing my taste buds, life was good. In fact, it was great.
Our parents’ extended travels had granted me unrestrained access to Sara. During the day, I worked tirelessly on my campaign, which I was now funding on my own. I spent my nights rolling around with Sara between the pink sheets of her bed. Any free time, I helped her at the shelter with repair projects, distributing new clothes, painting the walls, even listening to her raspy voice while she told fairytales to keep the kids entertained. Shockingly, my efforts at the shelter were getting me immense press as a politician of the people, but that’s not the reason for my actions.
Of all the women I have had, all the money I had accrued, the power I had gained as a politician, none of it gave me one-tenth of what helping Sara had provided for me.
Serenity.
Only, our serene time together was due to come to an end. Our parents were coming home, as I had run out of excuses to keep them away.
That grudgingly brought me back to Michael’s doorstep. He might be a pest, but Sara would have never returned my affections if I didn’t follow his advice. I needed his advice once more.
“By your smile, I assume things are going well between you two.”
“Yes, it is. I’m happy.” I long stopped pretending that Sara and I were nothing more than a dream. It was easier if Michael knew, as he always seemed to hit the hammer on the nail. His advice thus far had worked like a charm, and it was so simple.
Sacrifice.
Our biggest obstacle still remained at large. I had put off the appointment for a pregnancy test under the guise of finding a vetted doctor. With an impatient Sara ready to march into a drug store to purchase a test, I finally conceded. She was due to see the doctor tomorrow. If she was pregnant and we were to have a family of our own, she’d want to show off our children proudly instead of subjecting them to a life of secrecy. Sara hated deceit, so we had to come clean to our family. Possibly to everyone.
But how could I give her something that was out of my control?
Legally, a marriage between us wouldn’t be recognized. The world had known us as siblings for far too long. Society would turn our relationship into a laughingstock, and our children would forever be ridiculed.
Hope had filled my heart that perhaps Michael had one more trick up his sleeve to find me a way. One where she’d be mine forever, and society would have no choice but to accept it.
“That’s great to hear, Tristan. So, what would you like to discuss today?”
“The ending to your story.”
Michael smirked. “That’s twice in a row you have asked about my story.”
“Color me curious. You’ve been telling me this story for fifteen years. Is it ever going to end? Does Asmodeus get the girl?”
“How could he? He couldn’t touch her, and they were never destined to meet.”
I frowned. “Then why wouldn’t Asmodeus let Sarah be happy with someone else, given they had no future?” As soon as I asked the question, I heard the truth resonating within the words.
A slow, victorious smile spread on Michael’s face.
If he thought this was a breakthrough, he was in for a rude awakening. I had known of my selfish desires for years. I just didn’t care.
“That’s the dilemma, isn’t it? If the demon can never touch her or be with her, should he let her be happy with another? Or should he make her equally miserable?”
