Page 87 of The Bane of a Sinner
“I wanted to show you,” I began, my voice a low murmur in the stillness. “Show you that I never forgot you. That I never gave up hope. That some things are worth waiting for.” I moved closer, reaching out to cup her cheek, my thumb gently stroking her skin. “I missed you so much, baby. Every day, you were the first thought that entered my mind and the last as I drifted off to sleep. I never stopped looking for you, Diana. I couldn’t. You had become my obsession, my reason for breathing, and now that you are finally standing before me, in our old apartment, I neverwant to leave. I want to spend what time we have left together. Whether it’s here in the city or someplace new, I don’t care. As long as we are together.”
Diana’s eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met mine. The unspoken question, the one that had shadowed our lives for two decades, was finally laid bare. She leaned into my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Oh, August,” she whispered, the sound barely audible, yet it resonated through me like a seismic shift. “I thought... I thought I’d lost you too.” Her hand, tentative at first, reached up to cover mine, anchoring me to the present, to this shared, surreal reality. The city’s distant hum, the very soundscape of our separation, now felt like a muffled lullaby, a gentle reminder of the world outside this bubble of rediscovered intimacy.
I pulled her closer, inhaling the faint scent of her perfume, a fragrance that had haunted my dreams. “Never,” I vowed, my voice rough with emotion as I leaned down and kissed her soft, gentle lips. Our kiss was a homecoming, a rediscovery of a language spoken only between our souls. It was tender, tentative at first, then deepening with the urgency of twenty years of unspoken words and years of unfulfilled desires. The air in the apartment, thick with memories, seemed to hum with a new energy, charged by our reunion.
Deepening the kiss, I pulled her close, my arms tightening around her, never wanting to let her go as she melted into my embrace.
After twenty years, I wasn’t dreaming. She was actually in my arms, where she belonged. It almost felt as if time rewound itself as memories of our shared intimacy filtered into my mind. Everything, and every surface, I found myself lost within her. She was all-consuming, the very air in my lungs, the blood rushing in my veins.
Picking her up, she wrapped her legs around my waist as I walked her back toward our bedroom. I wanted an eternity with her, and I was starting now. Claiming her for all time, and God help anyone who tried to stop me.
The worn floorboards creaked a familiar song beneath our feet as I carried her into the bedroom, the same room where countless stolen moments had been etched into our shared history. Moonlight, filtered through the grimy pane of the window, cast ethereal shadows across the faded floral wallpaper. The air was thick with the scent of dust and time, but beneath it, faint traces of her perfume lingered, a phantom sweetness that ignited every nerve ending. I laid her gently onto the bed; the mattress sighed a welcome as she sank into it.
Her eyes, still luminous with unshed tears and newfound joy, never left mine. As I kneeled beside her, I unbuttoned her jacket, my fingers fumbling with deliberate slowness, wanting to savor every second. The city’s relentless pulse seemed to recede, replaced by the frantic rhythm of our own hearts. Each touch was a question, an acknowledgment, a silent promise whispered across the chasm of years. The cool night air outside felt a world away, replaced by the warm, palpable energy that crackled between us.
Tonight, the city was just a backdrop to a story that was finally, gloriously, finding its true beginning. The years had carved lines on our faces, but they had also deepened the roots of our connection, proving that some loves, like the enduring spirit of this city, never truly slept. And in the quiet sanctuary of this long-forgotten room, surrounded by the echoes of our past, we were ready to write the next chapter, together.
Chapter Forty-Six
Bane
A few hours later, we lay on the bed naked as her fingers skimmed through my hair. My hand traced the scar on her lower abdomen.
A cesarian scar.
I knew it well.
Taking a deep breath, I sighed. “I should have been there.”
“There was nothing you could do. Our son was born first with a full head of dark hair, just like yours. Oh God, August,” she whispered, tears pooled in her eyes. “He looked just like you, and when he opened his eyes, I swear it felt as if you were looking right at me.”
“How much did he weigh?”
“Almost six pounds.”
“And our daughter?”
Diana smiled. “I didn’t know. She was a surprise, to say the least. She was so tiny. A lot smaller than her brother. The doctor who delivered them said her brother hid her in the womb, protecting her. She weighed barely five pounds.”
“And the scar?”
“I was so tired. I’d been laboring for hours when the placenta tore, and I started hemorrhaging. I didn’t know what was going on. One minute I was in a birthing room and the next I woke up in recovery. I stayed in the hospital for close to a week before they discharged me with the babies.”
“Where did you go?” I asked, trailing my hand over her exposed skin, not wanting to let this moment go. I needed to know everything, every detail, since our separation.
“At first, we traveled around for a while. They took to the car easily, and I was thankful for that. But I quickly learned that traveling with two small babies was neither economical nor smart. So, I returned to Las Vegas and found a small house for us. It wasn’t much, but it was perfect for us.”
“What did you do for money?”
“I had the money Shame put in my go-bag. It lasted a few years until the twins were two. After that, I found odd jobs that I could do from home. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we made do.”
“What did you name them?”
Diana smiled warmly as her other hand traced my rose and thorn tattoo. “I named your son Thorne August and your daughter Rosebud Brianna.”
“Thorne and Rosebud.” I whispered their names, then my body stiffened. I knew those names.
Thorne and Rose.
