Page 59 of Storm

No longer accusing. I just need to know his reasoning.

“I hadn’t planned on going out into the fields. We were only going to walk through the factory,” he admits.

It’s my turn to seek solace in darkness, where I find brown eyes whispering a phrase I speak for the first time in twelve years. “Find me in your heart where we are equals.” My husband’s fingers dig into my thighs, anchoring me in place. “Where our souls will meet in eternity. That’s what he told me before he died.”

Slowly opening my lids, I find my big, gruff commander looking pained.

“Storm?”

I continue mussing his hair, looking into hollow eyes—grey, a colour I was taught to hate, that I was given permission freely to loathe until my last breath. “He had the biggest brown eyes and a scar on his left cheek.” I rub a thumb over his week-old beard. Melek waits for me to continue. “That fence by the parking lot, the one that borders the fields and the factory. It used to hold a stage with a giant X.” Melek frowns, and I trace the indent between his eyebrows. “They had just found out I was half Halo. Hell, I’d just found out I was half Halo. And he tried to get me out, but they found him, and then they found me.”

Any of the other times I’ve shared this grief with him, it’s never come out fluently, calm, though I’m far from that on the inside. In the beginning, I could never get past the part where I would shout, “You killed them,” over and over until my voice was so hoarse he was forced to put me in bed. He knew I was referring to my family, but my husband, the commander, never provided relief in the way of salvation for them. He never wanted to talk about them.

Melek was my family. Halo. Anything beyond that was meant to be forgotten.

I never forgot. Grief hasn’t left because of time. Time hasn’t stopped my body from crumbling to the floor. It hasn’t changed the love in my heart. If anything, it has made it worse. Agony. For all the things I know Mam and Nix are missing.

I cringe at the absurdity of telling my captor this, anguish waiting for its chance to take hold and leave me a broken mess.

“They put him on that X, and I watched as he was left to rot. And do you know what he did?” It’s a question that doesn’t need an answer. Melek replies with a simple nod regardless. “He spent his last moments trying to comfort me. My brother saw how much seeing him like that killed me. And it did. That moment took everything from me. When they made me leave him, they ripped out half of my soul. He was my strength, and they took him away from me. You took him away from me. And now, every time I see our son, I see my brother with your eyes, and it is an agony I’d never known could exist.”

The cascade of heartbreak running down my face barely registers. All my effort goes into keeping my words steady and my back upright.

Melek stands and lifts my face to his, wedging himself between my legs. “I’m sorry.” That doesn’t help. It makes it worse, and salty liquid continues to stream down my cheeks. No falsities can cure me. So, my commander plasters his body to mine in a firm hug, soothing my worn and broken soul with steady heartbeats and the comforting smell of his vices.

There’s nothing else to say. I could continue to hate him at this moment. I’m so weary—on the brink of emotional destruction. He rubs my back, unable to come up with the answers I need. Instead, I take the comfort and strength he offers, letting my heart open for him for the first time in twelve years.

He’s seen the hurt his kind has placed on mine, the gaping wound I walk around with every day. The one that grates on my resistance. The one that had me begging for escape in those early days, when Melek would find me with his razors poised to cut over my skin until he banned all sharp objects in the house until Sunny was born, and he knew I had something to live for again. That kid literally pulled me out of the grave.

“Look at me, wife.” His command cuts deep, and through wet lashes, I angle my face to meet his. “I shouldn’t have brought you to that place. I apologise. It was a poor choice that I regret.”

“Yet you did.” I can’t help myself. I poke the bear. It’s in my nature. Since when does this man have regrets?

His eyes gloss over, dark black clouds rolling through them. “Storm,” he murmurs, deep in his chest. “What can I do? All I want is for you to be happy here with me.”

This place will never make me happy. Raising our children here will only foster more anger and resentment. I can’t bring myself to say that and wound him further. He steals the air from my lungs with his sadness—a sight reserved only for me.

Resting my head on his chest, I take in woodsy spice. I don’t want to bruise him any further. It’s a hard pill to swallow.

“Ouch,” I whine, gripping my stomach.

Melek instantly drops to the ground, crouching before me, trying to lift my face. “What is it? Is it the baby?”

I lie.

I lie for my babies.

I lie for Melek.

And I lie, most importantly, for me and what I have become.

“I…Whoa, oww.” Leaning back on his desk, I push at my upper stomach for emphasis.

Melek goes to pick me up, as I expected, always trying to control the situation. I wave a hand at him. “No. Don’t. I need icy water.”

“Are you sure that’s all you need? I should call the doctor.”

A hand, unsure, hovers before me, and I take it. “It’s just indigestion, and the only thing that fixes that is icy water. Please.”