Page 42 of Tragic Empire
When she makes no move to open her eyes, I grimace.
Fuck it.
Pulling back her covers, I climb into bed next to her. My arms surround her from the side and I firmly tuck her small frame against my body.
“Ana,” I repeat, mouth brushing against her ear. She’s practically vibrating in my hold, shaking and crying so hard it makes me want to kill someone.
Feeling me so close finally causes my wife to startle, and she flinches away. Her eyes slam open wide, fear and tears filling her caramel gaze.
“It’s just me,” I whisper quickly, holding her tighter so that she can’t scramble away and hurt herself accidentally. “You were crying and breathing hard, was it a nightmare?”
Her bottom lip wobbles, and without answering, she throws her arms around me and buries her wet face into the crook of my neck. Ana crushes herself into me so hard that I wince.
“Shhhh, I’ve got you,” I coax, rubbing her back slowly. “You’re safe here. All the guards are awake and alert, Armani and Colton are in the living room still awake. I’m right here. No one can hurt you.”
I’m not lying, I had already woken up some time ago to check on things and was pleasantly surprised to see our ship running so smoothly.
“They a-already did,” she cries, stuttering through the words.
Her words hit me right in the chest. “I know.”
“It h-hurts, Cassio.”
I know. God, do I know…
“We’re going to hurt them worse,” I promise her. “They’ll suffer in ways you never thought imaginable.”
More tears roll down my neck, and she breathes out a long breath, trying to calm herself. Minutes pass and she still cries, but she’s no longer hyperventilating. I keep holding her, rubbing her back, and trying to settle her with soft comfort.
I haven’t felt so close to another person in far too long, and I wish it were under better circumstances. I wish Ana didn’t have to be plagued with such despair, but I’ll continue to wrap her in my arms for as long as it helps.
Sounding impossibly sad, she whispers, “I miss my mum.”
Her voice has cleared up, and her breathing has mostly evened out.
“She was Catholic, wasn’t she?” I ask. “You wear the necklace for her?”
Ana sniffs, nodding into my neck. “Y-yes.”
“Then you know that she’s watching you,” I tell her, hesitant to go this route of consoling. “She’s in a good place, even if we wish she were still here. Even if it was too soon?—”
“Way too soon.”
“Yes, forza,” I agree. “Far too soon.”
I don’t know much about Vivian Knight, but I know she wasn’t even forty years old. Much too young to die as a healthy woman. And from what I’ve heard, much too kind to be targeted in the way she was.
“I love my mom,” Ana whispers, her small voice cracking as she pulls back a few inches to look at me. “I can’t even process that she’s gone… that it happened like this.”
Tentatively, I reach out to brush some hair from her eyes. Her face is puffy and red, and still wet with fallen tears. “I understand.”
There’s not much else to say, and she’s heard enoughI’m sorrysto last a lifetime.
“Do you?” she asks, a single fresh tear dripping down her cheek.
“I loved my mother too,” I reply simply.
Ana freezes, processing the statement. “I forgot yours has passed,” she admits, sniffing back her emotions. “How did she..? No one ever talks about it.” When I don’t immediately answer, she shakes her head. “Sorry, that was too personal.”
