Page 71 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
I was going to have to wake her up to take this. The earlier the better, or so I remembered from our very basic sex-ed class. I grabbed a glass of water, tiptoeing back into the bedroom.
She looked like a bedraggled angel on the white sheets. Her hair stuck up at odd angles from not drying it before going to sleep, combined with all the tossing and turning she’d done once she’d fallen into a restless slumber. She hadn’t even gotten all her eye makeup off properly, so it had smudged a little under her eyes like a raccoon. Her lips looked puffy and her eyes were swollen from crying. There was a goddamn hickey on her neck taunting me as well, and I went back to cursing Evan under my breath.
However, it just confirmed I definitely loved her, because none of that really mattered to me. Well, the puffy eyes did, because I hated that we’d hurt her that bad. But the shit with Evan, the fact she looked like she’d been dragged through Hell backwards—none of it lessened the shine of her soul.
I sat down beside her, shaking her shoulder softly. “Viva. Wake up.”
She blinked groggily, her eyes running around the room as she got her bearings. “Otto,” she whispered, and it sounded pained. Yeah, downing sake like water would do that to you.
I popped the morning-after pill from its foil packet, and shook out a couple of aspirin into my hand. “Here we go, sweetheart. Painkillers from me, and Plan B from Evan.” She took them and threw them all back at once with the efficiency of someone who took regular medication. I handed her the water, and she downed the whole glass in a single gulp.
She groaned, slumping back onto the pillows. “Tell me that whole thing was a nightmare.”
I stroked her wild hair. “Afraid not.”
“I fucked up so bad. Sampson will never forgive me. Evan will never let it happen again. And I probably stole Hendrick’s ability to have children.”
I huffed at that last one. “No great loss. He deserved it.”
“You warned me, Otto. You can’t be mad at him.”
I lay down beside her. “Don’t forgive him too easily, Aviva. Just because he’s fucked up, doesn’t give him the right to treat people like shit. Not you, and not me.”
She closed her eyes with a sigh. “But you think I should forgive him.”
I nodded. “If you want to. I definitely won’t pressure you. He could use some consequences for his actions.”
“How do I face them now?” She paused. “Should I go home? I could probably scrape up enough to get a flight back to the US.”
I automatically wanted to say no. Because if she went home now, I knew that would be the end. There would be no future for us. That was selfish though, and honestly, she probably should go home. Start her life again, away from this craziness.
“Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you. Pay for your flight home, or wherever you want to go.” Fuck, I was so pussy-whipped.
She snuggled into my chest with a sigh. “I’m sorry. Sorry that I had sex with Evan without even consulting you. That wasn’t right of me, and it's disrespectful of what we had.”
I kissed the top of her head, trying to ignore the fact she was talking in the past tense. “We aren’t in group therapy now, Viva. We are human and we all make mistakes. Not that I think you and Evan were a mistake.”
She snorted and buried her face in my neck. “Yes, you do.”
Well, maybe the timing was shit, but I wasn’t about to confirm that out loud. “No, it was inevitable. Sampson has been keeping you two apart as much as possible because Evan wanted you—it was obvious as hell to everyone but you.” I let out a humorless laugh. “The problem is that Evan is a nice guy. The antithesis of us. I think Sampson was worried that if you got too close, you’d realize that someone like Evan is a thousand times better than any of us.”
She shook her head against my neck but didn’t move away as she mumbled, “It wasn’t like that. You’re good guys too.”
“I didn’t say good. I said nice. No one’s ever accused Sampson or Hendrick of being nice. Even I can be a prick when I want to be. Evan is safe. Respectful.” I stroked a hand down her back. “You crave safety, even if you don’t know it.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t group therapy,” she grumbled, and I laughed. God, she was cute. “You’re nice, Otto. You’re the kind of man I always imagined I’d end up marrying.”
I tried not to stiffen at the pain in my chest. Even though she hadn’t said it out loud, I knew she’d made her decision. She was going to leave us behind. I didn’t blame her and I wouldn’t try to convince her to stay, but I knew I’d carry the hurt of it around for a long time.
“Sleep, Viva. We’ll work it out when you’re rested.”
I stroked her back until she fell asleep again, and lay there with her until her whole body was floppy and lax, and she was snoring lightly. I moved out from underneath her, tucking her in tightly. She looked so peaceful in her sleep, the sadness in her eyes hidden behind those pale eyelids and thick, brown lashes.
I moved to the interconnecting door and unlocked it quietly. Slipping into the adjoining room, I closed the door softly. Hopefully it was soundproof, because shit was about to get loud.
Both Sampson and Hendrick were awake, sprawled at opposite ends of the room, and the tension between them was palpable. I guess they hadn’t kissed and made up either. Good.
I was pretty sure Hendrick was nursing a mimosa, even now. Hair of the dog to cure a hangover, that's what he always said. Ridiculous. It just confounded your damn liver; you still got a hangover eventually. That was Hendrick in a nutshell though—double down on the things that’ll kill you, so you don’t have to face your problems.
