âI know itâs youâ¦â
Adeline noticed my little hand holding her t-shirt. She turned and found me standing beside her.
âWhat?â she asked, confused.
âKeeping me company. I know itâs you, down there, holding my hand when she punishes me.â
That comfort in the dark could only be her.
Adeline looked at me for a while, and thenâ¦she understood. Her eyes looked to the end of the corridor, towards the cellar door.
âWhat if she sees youâ¦â I watched her, small and worried. âArenât you afraid sheâll find out?â
She looked down at me again. She stared at me for a moment, then her face softened into a smile.
âShe wonât find out.â
She took my hand, being careful of my broken nails, and I squeezed hers back with all the affection coursing through my body. I drew her arms tight around me, letting her soft hair envelop me. I loved her fiercely.
âThank you,â I whispered tearfully. âThank youâ¦â
My heart was pounding in my ears.
Chaotic images flashed through my mind â Adeline smiling, comforting me, blue eyes and hair as bright as the sun; Adeline crying, hiding in the shadows of the ivy, wrapping her arms around one of the other children, braiding my hair in the grounds of The Grave, as if we could build ourselves a happy ending, just the two of us.
Adeline, there. Adeline, kissing Rigel.
Frozen, I watched as Rigel shoved her away and shot her a glare that made her laugh lightly.
I couldnât breathe. I felt a stab in my heart as Rigelâs suddenly urgent eyes noticed me. I stared at him with that silent scream stuck in my chest.
Then, Adeline noticed where he was looking and turned around. Her eyes landed on meâ¦and her smile vanished.
I saw her eyes widen slightly, as though she couldnât believe what she was seeing.
âNica?â she gasped incredulously.
The next moment, as if she had been struck by a sudden realisation, her gaze fell on the house behind me. Then, she turned to Rigel and gave him a look that I couldnât quite decipher but that was disturbingly intimate.
âOhâ¦â Adeline turned back to me, emotional. âNicaâ¦â
âNica!â Anna was running towards me, alarmed. She wrapped a blanket around me as I continued to stare wide-eyed at Adeline.
âNica, youâve got a fever! You canât stay outside like this! The doctor said you need to rest!â
Anna looked up, and met Adelineâs gaze. They looked at each other for a while, and then Anna put an arm around my shoulders.
âCome inside,â she said, trying to lead me in. âYou shouldnât get cold againâ¦â
The blanket tight around me, I reluctantly complied.
âAdelineâ¦â
âIâll visit,â she promised, stretching towards me. âDonât worry. Youâ¦rest. Iâll come and see you in the next few days, I promise!â
All I could do was nod before Anna took me back inside.
I looked for Rigelâs eyes. With a tinge of sadness, I saw they were no longer looking at me.
âOh, Rigelâ¦â she murmured. âWhat have you done?â
Rigel couldnât bring himself to look at her. He felt too dejected for the tone of resignation in her voice.
She was stuck in his eyes, like a burn that would never fade.
âWhy are you here?â he spat out, disgruntled and taking his frustration out on the girl next to him.
Adeline hesitated before replying.
âDo you think Iâve forgotten what day it is, the day after tomorrow?â she said, almost sweetly. He shot down her attempt to ease the tension with a glare.
She lowered her gaze.
âI heard about Peter,â she admitted. âA policeman came to ask me questionsâ¦He asked me about Margaret. He said that theyâre tracking down all of us who were at the institute before she was fired. It was him who told me you werenât at The Grave any more. And now I know why.â
A silence fell. It was a silence full of blame, countless mistakes, and to Rigel it felt inevitable.
âDoes she know?â
âKnow what?â he hissed cagily, but his venomous anger just crashed impotently against the wall of painful truth in her eyes.
Because Adeline knew. Adeline had always known.
Because Adeline had always been interested in him, in a way that he could never reciprocate, doomed as he was to an eternal, indestructible love.
Because she had always looked for him at the institute, only to see him look for Nica.
âThat you made yourself be chosen so you could stay with her.â
Rigel ground his teeth in anger. His body was tense and rigid. He wasnât looking at her, and didnât say anything, because replying to her would be equivalent to admitting to the only allegation he couldnât deny.
The writhing inside was killing him. He was tormented by the thought of Nica seeing Adeline kiss him. He remembered how she had stroked his cheek, how she had brushed it so gently, and it was even more painful when he realised that inside him there was a glimmer of hope. Hope that, somehow, she could want him, that she could reciprocate his desperate feelings.
âDonât breathe a word to her,â he ordered stringently. âStay out of it.â
âRigelâ¦I donât understand you.â
âYou canât understand me, Adeline,â he snarled in an attempt to defend himself, to protect everything right and wrong that he knew was inside of him. She shook her head and threw him a look that for a moment reminded him painfully of Nica.
âWhy? Why wonât you tell her?â
âTell her?â he repeated, stifling a derisive laugh, but Adeline wasnât discouraged.
âYes,â she replied with a simplicity that annoyed him even more, if that was possible.
âTell her what?â he snarled, like an injured beast. âHave you seen where we are, Adeline? Do you think that, even if we werenât stuck here, sheâd ever look at me?â
Rigel hated those words, because he knew they were true.
Those eyes would never look for him, with need, desire or love.
Not a disaster like him.
And he was too disillusioned to admit that he would have given anything to be wrong.
âSomeone like her could never want someone like me,â he spat bitterly, with all the pain that he was constantly trying to subdue.
Adeline stood watching him, with sincere, earnest eyes.
And he would remember that moment foreverâ¦
The exact, tragic moment in which his only hope came alight within him, to torment him every single day, to make every single thing he thought he knew tremble.
âIf thereâs anyone able to love that muchâ¦If thereâs anyone in the world with a heart that big, itâs Nica.â
âIs there anything else you want to tell me?â
I shook my head.
The social worker gave me an understanding look. She was extremely kind, professional, highly discreet and attentive. Only a day had passed since the incident, and though her visit had been scheduled for the following week, it had been brought forward because of what had happened. Her task was to assess the foster care and check that no problems or incompatibilities had arisen. She had asked about Anna and Norman, school and how living together was going. Before speaking to me, she had asked Rigel the same questions.
âAll right. In that case, Iâll write up the first report.â
She stood up. I did the same, wrapping the blanket around me. My temperature was still coming down to normal.
âAh, Mrs Milligan,â she reached out towards Anna. âThis is a copy of their medical files. If you ever consider contacting a psychologist, I think these might be useful for you.â
Anna took the slim, organised files. The documents were in a turquoise folder. She slowly looked through them, carefully and respectfully.
âIt is also my duty to inform you that social services can provide psychological support in the event thatâ¦â
âAnd who wrote these reports?â Anna interrupted her. I glimpsed the words Psychological and Behavioural Diagnoses on the sheet of paper she was looking at. I thought I saw a photo of Rigel on it too.
The womanâs answer was pragmatic, âA medical specialist, during the years in which Mrs Stoker was director of the institute.â
âOh,â Anna remarked shortly. âSo I imagine there wonât be anything about the panic attacks and trauma due to the violence and abuse.â
There was an icy silence.
I stared at Anna, taking a while to process what she had said. Where had that cutting tone come from?
The woman seemed incredibly embarrassed.
âMrs Milligan, I donât know what impression youâve formed of us. What has come to light about Margaret Stokerâ¦â
âI donât care,â Anna shot her down. âAll I know is that woman was fired when she ought to be in jail, serving time for what she did.â
I remembered the day that Margaret left. Some visitors had noticed our bruises and had informed Social Services. Margaret had been fired immediately and the nightmare ended overnight, like a bubble suddenly bursting.
I would never forget the othersâ eyes. It was like seeing the sun after a lifetime underground. They all had dulled faces and faded eyes, as if they hadnât seen the light in so long that they no longer believed in it.
Some nightmares you never really believe can end.
âWhere were the inspections?â
There were inspections. But they were too sporadic, unfocused and superficial.
âHow is it possible that no one ever realised?â Anna continued, irate.
Because She was good.
She was good at leaving bruises where they wouldnât be seen.
She was good at hurting us in the most hidden places.
She was good at turning us into broken dolls who wouldnât breathe a word.
She was good, and in the meantime the world forgot about us, entrusted us to a woman who would become the mother of our nightmares.
I knew that this was what often happened to broken things. They get shut away, far from everything, just so they donât have to be seen any more. We were different, alone, problematic, children of no one. Those they didnât know where to put.
Sometimes I wondered what would have become of me if I hadnât ended up at The Grave, but in a different institute. A place that was regulated, safe. A place where there werenât any beds in cellars or dead-end roads. A place without Her.
âI just wonder how it can have gone on for years,â Anna said icily. âI wonder how you can have managed not to see it, not to know. I wonderâ¦â
âAnna.â I put a hand on her arm and looked at her, a silent request in my candid gaze.
I shook my head.
She was arguing with the wrong woman. It wasnât the social workerâs fault that Margaret was a monster. It wasnât anyoneâs fault.
Someone should have protected us. Someone should have seen, should have known, it was true, but the past canât be changed. Raking it all over would only hurt me.
I didnât want to feel more anger.
I didnât want to feel more hate.
It just reminded me of how much anger and hate Iâd received as a childâ¦
âMy job is to oversee the adoption process. I will do everything I can to make it work out.â The social worker looked at us with a sincere determination. âI want Nica and Rigel to have a family, a peaceful life and a stable future as much as you do.â
Anna made a sign of assent, accepting her task. Then we both showed her out.
âGoodbye.â The social worker opened the door, and Klaus darted outside. Surprised, she stepped backwards and bumped into Anna, making her drop the medical files. The folders opened and papers scattered everywhere.
I knelt down to help her and, suddenly, I found myself holding a sheet of paper with a photo of Rigel.
Unintentionally, my eyes glimpsed terms like âsymptomsâ, âincapacityâ, ârejectionâ, âsolitudeâ andâ¦
âThank you, Nica.â Anna took the paper from me and put it back in the file.
I stared at her hazily. I didnât even respond. Those words were whirling around, causing tumult inside of me.
Incapacity. Rejection. Solitudeâ¦Symptoms?
What symptoms were they talking about? And why were there so many pages in his file?
Thoughts were spinning around my head. I couldnât think straight. Those details spoke to me. Each one was a piece of the puzzle that was Rigel. Maybe, if they were put together correctly, theyâd finally form a picture of his soul that, perhaps, I might eventually be able to make sense ofâ¦
â
Adeline came to see me that afternoon.
I opened the door and she stepped inside respectfully. It was so strange to lead her through the house that I had to turn round and look at her face.
I couldnât believe it was her. That she was there.
I stopped in the living room, feeling a bit awkward. She looked at me, her eyes suddenly charged with emotion.
âDo youâ¦want something to drink? Annaâs made tea,â I murmured, wringing my hands. âI know thatâ¦well, you used to really like tea. If you want, I canâ¦â
I broke off as Adeline rushed to embrace me. I was stunned. I sunk into her unexpected warmth and the feeling of her hands gripping my shoulders abruptly set my chest aflame. In her arms, a sudden yearning exploded within me. I found myself hugging her back tightly, as if she was a piece of me, as if without her Iâd never been complete.
âI wasnât expecting to find you here,â she whispered shakily.
I realised how much I had missed her. It was as if someone had just returned an essential part of my heart.
The day that Adeline was moved to another institute, my world lost its last flicker of light.
âHow youâve grownâ¦â
She pushed my hair away from my face to get a better look at me. I couldnât help but think the same about her.
She was an adult. She was only a few years older than me, but I realised with a twinge of sadness that Iâd never imagined her looking so grown-up.
But that was still her smile. Those were still her eyes, her blonde hair, her soft and reassuring voiceâ¦
âHow are you feeling?â
I felt like crying.
âBetter,â I replied, trying to contain my emotions. I ushered her to the couch then went to fetch the tea.
âI didnâtâ¦I didnât know that youâd left The Grave.â Her hand slid into mine and she looked around, emotional and admiring. âItâs so lovely hereâ¦this house seems tailor-made for you. They seem like really good people.â
âWhat about you?â I asked tentatively. âAre you with a family? Do you live nearby?â
Adelineâs smile faded.
âIâm still there, Nica,â she said warily. âIn the institute I was transferred to. Iâve come of age, so I should move on, butâ¦I havenât got a job,â she smiled sadly. âI come into town every now and thenâ¦I found a job in a small bookstore, but it closed last month.â
I felt a pang in my heart.
I knew I had been lucky, I knew I had been an exception, but that news still saddened me.
âAdeline, Iâmâ¦â
âItâs okay,â she interrupted me calmly. âItâs been a long time now. Itâs all right.â
She gave me a weak smile then looked down at Klaus, who had started to nibble at the edges of my blanket. âI heard about the detectiveâ¦are you all right?â
âAnna thinks I should speak to someone about it,â I confessed after a moment. âShe thinksâ¦it could help.â
âI think sheâs right.â Adeline shrugged and sighed. âYou canât heal from things like this on your own.â
âHave you gone?â
She nodded slowly.
âA couple of times. I went under my own steam. The owner of the bookstore was very nice, and he had a friend who was a psychologist. I didnâtâ¦tell him about Her. I didnât tell him about Margaret, exactly, but it helped to talk, in some way.â She shook her head slowly. âBut Nicaâ¦you were very young when you were first subjected to all that. We all take on our experiences in different ways, especially when theyâre traumatic. We all experience them in our own way. Take Peter, for exampleâ¦He never got over it.â
I nervously nibbled at my Band-Aids. I knew Adeline was right. She had never left. She was still so vivid in my mind.
We hadnât all suffered the same trauma, but none of us had ever been the same again.
âYou canât heal from things like this on your own.â
But the question was, could you ever heal from things like this?
Adeline gently pulled my fingers away from my mouth and smiled softly.
âYouâre still in the habit of nibbling your Band-Aids when youâre nervous.â
I blushed, embarrassed, and looked down. It was a bad habit from childhood.
âIs that why you came?â I asked. âBecause you heard about what happened?â
Adeline glanced away. She suddenly seemed uneasy.
âNoâ¦Actually, I came for another reason. I remembered last weekâ¦and I thought about coming. For Rigel.â
My stomach turned.
âForâ¦Rigel?â
âDonât you remember? Itâs his birthday tomorrow.â
I was taken aback. Speechless.
Rigelâs birthday.
March 10th.
How could I have forgotten?
I let it sink in, still staring at Adeline.
It wasnât actually the day he was born, but the day heâd been found outside The Grave. They had never been able to work out the exact date of his birth, and so they had chosen that day to mark it.
I remembered his birthday because it was the only birthday that the matron ever celebrated. I remembered Rigel, his face lit up by a candle on a birthday cake, sat alone in the cafeteriaâ¦
âI wanted to surprise him,â Adeline murmured. âBut I should have realised that he wouldnât react as I expected.â
The memory of their kiss was like a punch to the heart. I glanced away, unable to look at her. I didnât realise that I was gripping my knees tightly.
âItâs never been a day to celebrate for him. Rigelâ¦has never liked the attention,â I said quietly.
âNo, Nicaâ¦thatâs not why.â Adeline looked down sadly. âItâs because of what he went through.â
I glanced at her furtively, shocked, and she looked at me sadly.
âYou really never thought about it?â
I was trapped in Adelineâs gaze. Thenâ¦
Then I realised. I realised how stupid I had been.
What he went throughâ¦being abandoned by his parents.
âHis birthdayâ¦the day they found him, reminds him of the night his family abandoned him,â Adeline confirmed.
I had always misunderstood. I had always seen him inside Her bright, perfect shrine. I had associated suffering with what She did to us, and knew that he couldnât understand.
But me? What had I understood about him?
âRigel isnât like us.â Adeline looked at me urgently. âHe never has beenâ¦We lost our families, Nica, but they didnât want to leave us.
We canât understand what itâs like to be rejected by our own parents and left inside a casket without so much as a name.â
Constant distrust. Disillusionment.
The lack of connection, defensive shields for pushing the world away.
His aggressive, suspicious personality.
Incapacity, solitude, rejection. Symptoms.
Rigel had abandonment issues. It was a trauma he had always carried. He had grown up with it, and it had become his reality.
The signs had always been there. I had just never been able to see them.
Adeline seemed to understand. âHeâll never show how much it hurts,â she said. âRigel masks everythingâ¦He always holds back, but insideâ¦his soul is so open to pain and feelings itâs scary. Sometimes I donât know how he doesnât go mad. Iâm sure he hates even his own name,â she concluded. âBecause the matron gave it to him, and because itâs the symbol of his abandonment.â
Suddenly, everything I knew about Rigel took on a different hue. Rigel pushing me away; Rigel not letting me get close; Rigel as a boy, staring at a birthday candle all alone.
Rigel picking me up in the middle of the park, letting himself be touched for the first time, surrendering like someone who still believes theyâre injuredâ¦
âDonât leave him, Nica. Donât let him destroy himself.â Adeline looked at me, distressed. âRigel condemns himself to being alone. Maybe because he thinks thatâs what he deservesâ¦He grew up knowing he wasnât wanted, and heâs convinced thatâs how it will always be. But donât leave him alone, Nica. Promise me you wonât.â
I wouldnât.
Not any more.
I wouldnât leave him alone, because heâd been alone for too long.
I wouldnât leave him alone, because fairy tales are for everyone.
I wouldnât leave him alone, because you canât appreciate life by yourself, only with someone at your side, hand in hand, with strong hearts and bright faces.
I wouldnât leave him alone, because I wanted to talk to him, listen to him, to hear him for a long time to come. I wanted to touch his soul.
I wanted to see him smile and laugh, his face light up. I wanted to see him happy more than Iâd ever wanted anything before.
I wanted all this and more, because Rigel had carved my heart into the rhythm of his breathing, and I no longer knew any other way to breathe.
I wanted to scream, right there on the couch, shout all of this to the world. But instead, I let my heart speak, and held the rest back for myself.
âI promise.â
â
The following afternoon, I was walking briskly around the neighbourhood holding a small package.
I was slightly late. I looked up and glimpsed the ice cream kiosk on the other side of the street.
I crossed the road and looked around for a familiar face.
âHi,â I said to Lionel. âSorry Iâm late. Have you been waiting long?â
âNo, donât worry about it,â he replied, starting to walk. âIâve grabbed us a table. Actually, I have been waiting a while, yes, but itâs no big deal.â
I apologised again and offered to get him an ice cream. He accepted immediately, and I went up to the kiosk to get two cones.
When I came back, I noticed he was looking at me. I held out his ice cream and felt his eyes running up and down my bare legs.
âWhatâs up?â I asked once Iâd sat down.
âThatâs a nice dress,â he said. He looked at the red and white polka dot fabric fluttering in the wind and enhancing my complexion, and the brown cross-body bag that Anna had given me. âIt suits you. You look really pretty.â
My cheeks flushed pink and I raised my eyebrows. I looked away, and thought back to the conversation at Billieâs house.
âThanks,â I replied, hoping he wouldnât notice my embarrassment.
âYou didnât need to wear it to come here.â
âHuh?â
Lionel smiled breezily.
âNot that I donât appreciate itâ¦but there was no need to put on such a pretty dress just to get an ice cream together. You really didnât need to. Itâs just an ice cream.â
âOh, no, Iâ¦I know. Iâm wearing it for dinner afterwards. You know, to celebrate. Itâs Rigelâs birthday today.â
Lionel was still for so long that his ice cream started to melt and drip down his finger.
âAh,â he said, staring at me flatly. âTodayâs his birthday?â
âYeahâ¦â
He was quiet. He started eating his ice cream again while I smiled at a ladybug that had just landed on the back of my hand.
âSo you put it on for him?â
I looked at Lionel, who was now polishing off his ice cream with the little spoon, too engrossed to look at me.
âââFor himâ?â
âFor your dear sweet brother,â he clarified with indifference. âYou dressed up so prettily for his birthday?â
I looked at him, confused. I wasnât wearing the dress for anyoneâ¦just for myself.
I wanted it to be a special occasion. It was me who had told Anna and Norman, and knowing how little Rigel enjoyed parties, we had chosen something simple, with just us, and Adeline, too. For once, I had wanted to wear something different.
âWeâre having a special dinner at home,â I said quietly. âI thought it would be niceâ¦â
âAnd you put on a dress for dinner at home?â
âLionelâ¦is there something you want to tell me?â
I didnât understand. Hadnât he just said that the dress suited me?
âForget it,â he murmured, shaking his head. He saw my upset expression and added, âI didnât mean anything. It seemed strange, thatâs all.â He bit into the wafer and tried to smile at me.
We finished our ice creams in silence.
âWhatâs this?â he asked after a while, shaking the packet I had placed on the table. âThis is why you were late, isnât it?â
âYes,â I replied, tucking my hair behind my ear. âI saw it and stopped to buy it, Iâm sorryâ¦â
âWhat is it?â
âItâs a present for Rigel.â
Lionel immediately stopped turning it over in his hands. He held it and slowly turned to me.
âCan I see?â
I nodded, and he slowly unwrapped it.
Out came a little glass sphere. It had a black silk string and was filled with coloured sand in such a way that a beautiful starry sky was drawn across the glass surface. The grains sparkled in the light, twinkling like little stars.
It was Orion, etched onto the glass like a web of extremely fine diamonds.
I didnât even know what it was. A keyring, maybe. I wasnât sure. But when Iâd stumbled across it in a little store selling blown glass ornaments, I couldnât help but think it would be perfect for him.
Some part of me imagined him fiddling with it absentmindedly as he readâ¦
Lionel turned it over in his hands. I got up to throw my spoon in the trash.
âItâs handmade,â I told him. âThe woman in the store said it was the last one. She paints the sand on herself! She wears some kind of monocle, and sits on a stool arranging the grains with a long needle so thatâ¦â
The shattering of glass made me jump.
At Lionelâs feet, broken shards of glass sparkled in the middle of a ring of sand. I stared at them, breathless.
âOh,â Lionel said, scratching his cheek. âWhoops.â
He apologised and I knelt down, picking up the shards of glass.
That carefully chosen gift was now in pieces.
Why? Why did anything to do with Rigel always have to end up in pieces?
Shaking with frustration, I gripped the shards and looked up at Lionel. My eyes were shining with an unfamiliar emotion.
He apologised again, but this time I didnât reply.
â
I returned home with a heavy heart. I had really wanted to see Rigel accept my gift, and now some part of me would always wonder whether he would have.
âOh, Nica, youâre back!â Anna was busy laying the good tablecloth.
âCould you take this box upstairs while I finish laying the table? It goes in the room at the end of the landing.â
I searched her face and gave her a knowing look as she handed me a key. The room at the end of the landing was where Alanâs stuff was kept. I headed upstairs.
I turned on the light and put the box down next to a wardrobe. In that room there were clothes, boxes, old CDs and rolled-up posters. There were also books. I looked closer, and saw that they were university textbooks.
I discovered that Alan had studied Law, like Asia.
I carefully took down a particularly large book and opened it. I wanted to feel closer to him, to understand more about him. I wanted to ask Anna to talk about him, but I didnât know whether she would have been happy to do so.
I flicked through a book called Criminal Law, amazed at the excessive number of pages. I noticed how clean and neat it was. Alan must have taken great care of his textbooks.
Absentmindedly, I read through the titles of the chapters:
Child Abuseâ¦
Bigamyâ¦
Domestic Violenceâ¦
Incestâ¦
I frowned. One word caught my eye â Adoption. I read intently.
âIn many states, adoption constitutes a binding familial relation. Through the adoption process, the adoptee legally becomes part of the adoptive family. Therefore, they are to be considered a full member of the family for all intents and purposes.
âSection Thirteen A of the Alabama Criminal Code: Any relationship or marriage between family members, whether consanguineous or adoptive, is considered incest under the law.
âThis includes: parents and children by blood or through adoption; brothers and sisters by blood or through adoption; half-brothers and half-sisters.
âIncest is a Class C felony. Class C felonies are punishable by imprisonment for up toâ¦â
I stopped reading. I closed the book and moved away as if it had burnt me. My ears were buzzing.
I stood still, staring at the cover without really seeing it. Something silently lurched within me, a stormy sea. I didnât understand that feeling of emptiness. I didnât understand what was happening.
I slammed the door shut, bewildered. As I retreated, it felt as if the walls were moving away from me. Everything suddenly seemed out of place, strange, as if my bearings had shifted.
I pushed the feelings away and locked the door before going back downstairs. I tried to focus on the evening ahead, and to ignore the strange emotion that wouldnât leave me alone.
â
It was a peaceful dinner.
I could finally introduce Adeline to Anna and Norman. They offered her the gravy, asking if she wanted more.
I kept glancing at Rigel to see if he was enjoying himself. Unfortunately, Adeline stopped me from seeing him clearly.
There was cake, there were presents. I cringed a little when I remembered I had nothing to give him.
Eventually, when darkness had long since fallen, Adeline decided it was time to go.
Norman offered to give her a lift home, but she declined politely. Anna gave Rigel a kiss then went upstairs to bed. Norman followed after wishing us goodnight.
âThanks for a lovely evening,â Adeline said breathily.
She hugged me goodbye, then approached Rigel, who was still sitting down. I almost winced as she bent over to embrace him.
âThink about what I said the other night,â I thought I heard her whisper.
Rigel turned his head, as if he both didnât want to hear her words and at the same time couldnât get them out of his head. With a sigh, she left.
It was just the two of us.
Silence fell, and Rigel glanced towards me. When he saw that I was watching him, his eyes darted away and he got to his feet.
âRigel.â
I approached him from behind, stopping before I reached him.
âI bought you a present todayâ¦I didnât forget. But I wasnât able to give it to you.â
âIt doesnât matter,â he murmured.
I looked down.
âIt matters to me,â I replied sadly.
I wanted that evening to be special for him. I wanted him to feel how much those around him cared about him, even if he couldnât see it. I wanted him to know that he wasnât alone.
âIâm sorry,â I said in a little voice.
I took hold of the back of his t-shirt, feeling the need to be closer to him.
âI cared about it. And now I want toâ¦I want to make up fââ
âDonât say it,â he interrupted me. His hands were stretched out, as if making an urgent plea. âDonât say itâ¦â
âI want to,â I murmured stubbornly. âLet me make it up to you. There must be something you wantâ¦â I tightened my grip, looking for his face. âAnything at allâ¦â
Rigel inhaled slowly. He was silent, but then, with an incredibly slow, deep voice, he asked, âAnything at all?â
I remembered how he had held me in the rain. The slap he took for me. The scratch on his faceâ¦
âYes,â I whispered, without hesitation.
âAnd if I asked youâ¦to stay still?â
âWhat?â
Rigel turned slowly. His dark eyes were planted on me.
I was hardly breathing. In his eyes I saw the reflection of my red and white dress and my mouth hanging open under my silvery eyes.
âStill,â his lips whispered, sending me adrift. âStay stillâ¦â
I froze. Rooted to the spot by the sound of his voice.
Tall and imposing, he looked at me through his eyelashes. It was only then that I noticed there was a smear of icing sugar on the corner of my mouth. I tried to wipe it off, but I couldnât. Rigelâs fingers circled my wrist, holding my hand away. His silky touch exploded on my skin and my breath shook.
He was touching me.
I didnât move as he slowly brought my arm back down, trapping me in his gaze.
âStay,â he swallowed, âstillâ¦â
I was hypnotised.
I looked at him with powerless eyes, burning with uncontrollable emotions.
His eyes searched my face. Then, he slowly leant over me.
His masculine musk invaded my nostrils. My heart was pounding in my throat.
I felt his breath on me, andâ¦his lips landed on the corner of my mouth.
I held my breath.
His hot tongue brushed against the edge of my mouth. My heart tightened, my knees trembled. As Rigel licked the icing sugar from my lips, I found myself gripping the skirt of my dress as if it was my only anchor in that madness.
I could no longer understand a thing.
My breathing deepened, our breath mingled and the smell of him got into my throat, blurring my mind like the sweetest of poisons.
My heart was about to burst. My head was spinning and I forgot how to breathe.
He was killing me.
Soundlessly.
I sensed his fingers trembling around my wristâ¦
He pulled away, licking away the sugar from his bottom lip. I stared at him, bewildered, boiling, overcome with shivers.
I was frightened of what was stirring within me. Terrified by how my skin had reacted.
His breath destroyed me.
His eyes were burning on my lips.
His breath swept over my cheeks.
I closed my eyes andâ¦
Nicaâs lips.
Rigel couldnât see anything else.
His blood was throbbing in his temples. His mind was hazy. His heart was on the verge of breaking through his chest.
She hadnât moved.
She had stayed still.
Without realising what he was doing, he gently pushed her backwards against the table. Breathing heavily, he found himself running his hands up and down her forearms, and then he grabbed her wrists.
He was dying to kiss her.
The writhing feeling within him roared. The taste of her honey-like skin was still on his tongue, a condemnation that would burn him forever.
He had to get away from her. Before it was too late.
He had to let her go, to snarl at her, to push her away, to never look at her againâ¦
But Nica was there, and God, she was the most sinfully beautiful thing he had ever seen. With that dress that clung to her breasts, her long, chestnut hair, her lips, glossy and parted, the breaths he wanted to snatch from them.
She was gorgeous, irresistible.
He lunged forward, inhaling her sweet scent. He couldnât stop himself. He stroked the hot skin of her wrists and felt her hold her breath. His heart thumped against his ribs, an unbearable torture.
Her scent was going to his head. He could understand nothing, he was losing contact with reality. There was no comparison for the effect Nica had on him.
And he wantedâ¦In that moment, he just wantedâ¦
She shuddered.
Rigel looked up.
He saw her swallow, her eyes clenched shut. She looked shocked. Her cheeks were flushed and her knees were trembling. She was shaking so much she couldnât breathe, even her narrow wrists were trembling in his hands.
She couldnât even look at him.
And again, destructive feelings were triggered in him: terror, rejection, devouring passion, those feelings that suffocated him, crushed him, an eternal condemnation. Anguish and frustration returned. Rigel wanted to scrape them away with his fingernails, tear them off him and no longer feel so dark, desperate and wrong. He was tired of feeling like that, but the more he tried to resist, the more his heart withdrew into his chest like an injured beast.
He just wanted to feel right. He just wanted to touch her, to feel her.
He desired her with everything he had, but everything he had was stings, thorns, pain and a soul full of suffering.
And she couldnât even bring herself to look him in the eyes.
âIf thereâs anyone able to love that muchâ¦â As Nica trembled before him, those words died inside him.
And Rigel thought that there was a terrifying sweetness in the way that a lifetime of looking at her had made his soul crumble between his bones.
He let me go.
Rigel moved away and I tumbled back into reality.
No, my heart screamed painfully.
I felt like I was going mad. I could no longer tell up from down. I was no longer myself: all I could feel was an invisible force binding me to him.
I was about to stop him, but just at that moment, the doorbell rang.
I jumped, and in front of me, Rigel turned, his eyes shooting towards the front door.
Who could it be at that time of night?
âDonât go,â I begged him. My voice sounded anguished. âDonât leave. Pleaseâ¦â
I bit my lip, hoping to convince him to wait for me, for once, not to disappear.
Maybe Iâd succeeded, because Rigel didnât move. I threw him one last glance before heading into the hall. I was sure I could feel his eyes following me.
I glimpsed someone through the obscure glass. Someone who was hammering on the door as if it wasnât the middle of the night.
I peered through the peephole. My eyes flew open.
I stared at the door, astounded, then reached out to open it.
âLionel,â I said breathlessly.
He stared at me, his hand still outstretched, his eyes distraught. He looked as though heâd been running.
âWhat are you doing? Why are you here at this time of night?â
âI saw lights on,â he said hastily, stepping towards me. The frantic look in his eyes frightened me. âI know, itâs really late, I know, Nica, butâ¦I couldnât sleepâ¦I couldnâtâ¦â
âWhatâs happened? Are you all right?â
âNo!â he replied, beside himself. âI canât stop thinking about it, Iâve reached the limit. I canât stand this, I canât stand thatâ¦youâre here, thatâ¦â he bit his lip, utterly bewildered.
âLionel, calm downâ¦â
âI canât stand you living here with him!â he finally spat out.
My stomach turned.
I threw an alarmed look over my shoulder. Lionelâs words had reverberated through the silence like a cannon shot.
I slipped out and closed the door behind me. Lionel stepped backwards and my eyes fell on the open gate behind him.
âItâs late, Lionel. Maybe you should go homeâ¦â
âNo!â he interrupted frantically, raising his voice. He didnât seem himself. âI wonât go home. I canât pretend any more! I canât stand knowing heâs always around you, acting like an untouchable bastard and you with thatâ¦dress!â He was gesticulating wildly, looking me up and down. When he looked up at my face, there was a sinister glint in his eyes.
âYouâve been together all this time! Havenât you? What did he ask you to give him for his birthday, huh? What?â
âYouâre not yourself,â I replied, my chest tight.
âYou wonât tell me?â He was breathing heavily. His eyes frantically searched my face. âYou still donât get it, do you?â
I stepped towards him.
âLionelâ¦â
âNo!â he erupted, out of his mind, and moved a few steps backwards. âHow can I make you understand? Huh? How?â He ran his hand through his hair. âAre you really that naïve?â
I flinched as he clenched his fists.
âI canât go on like this, itâs absurd! How long have we been chatting? How long? But you still donât seem to get it! What do I have to do for you to understand? What? God, Nica, open your eyes!â
Impulsively, Lionel took my face in his hands and kissed me. My eyes flew open. I instinctively pushed him away.
I staggered backwards, disconcerted. He stared at me, dumbfounded. Then he looked over my shoulder.
I shuddered when I saw two black eyes staring at us from the front door. In the shadow of night, they were two lightless, ruthless chasms.
They landed on me. Rigel stared at me as I heard the world scream. Then he turned around and disappeared.
âRigel!â I called. I was about to follow him, but Lionel grabbed on to my arm.
âNicaâ¦Nica, waitâ¦â
âNo!â I burst out, raising my voice. I yanked my arm free, and Lionel stared at me in dismay before I turned and ran inside.
His nerves felt like they were about to explode.
A dull pain devoured him as he strode â or maybe fled â from that scene. He had a lethal desire to shatter him, to smash that moronâs face and tear him away from her. Seeing them together felt like going mad.
His mind was spiralling down into the dark.
He had always known that Nica would never see him as she saw the rest of the world, not him, not his dirty, dilapidated heart.
He had made himself too hateful. Even to her.
His blood went to his head. His fists were clenched. The sight of them tormented him, he felt an irrepressible urge to break something.
No one would ever want him, no one, because he was broken, different, wretched, a disaster.
He kept the world at a distance.
He ruined everything he touched.
There was something wrong with him, and there always would be.
He didnât know how to feel normal emotions, he couldnât even feel something as sweet as love without scratching it to shreds in his attempt to push it away.
Attachments meant suffering. Attachments meant abandonment, fear, solitude and pain. And Rigel didnât want to feel those any longer.
Love hurt him. It had Nicaâs eyes, her bright smile, her innocent sweetness that broke his heart.
His temples pulsed, white dots erupted behind his eyelids and he felt something rising within him, a cruel and burning anguish.
âNoâ¦â His muscles contracted. He pushed away the pain that threatened to make him lose his mind. He clenched his eyes shut, scratching, torture.
In a blind fury, he kicked his backpack and sat on the bed. He crazily grabbed handfuls of his hair as if he was about to tear them out of his scalp.
âNot nowâ¦not nowâ¦â
âRigel!â I called.
I reached the first floor and went to his room. The door was ajar. I pushed it gently.
He was there, sat on the bed, immersed in the darkness.
âRigelâ¦â
âDonât come in,â he hissed, making me jump. I stared at him, distressed by his menacing tone.
âGoâ¦â He ran his hand through his hair. âGo, now.â
My heart was pounding madly, but I didnât move.
I had no intention of going anywhere.
I moved slowly towards him, noticing his shallow breaths, but Rigel gnashed his teeth.
âI told you donât come in,â he snarled angrily, sinking his fists into the mattress. His pupils were incredibly dilated, like a wild beastâs.
âRigelâ¦â I whispered. âAre youâ¦okay?â
âNever better,â he hissed. âNow go.â
âNo,â I insisted. âI wonât goâ¦â
âOut!â he exploded with a frightening violence. âAre you deaf or what? I told you to get out of here!â
He snarled terribly. I stared at him, distraught, my eyes wide, and I saw a devastating suffering hidden like a shard of glass in all that anger. It knotted my throat, and pricked even the inside of me.
He was pushing me away again, but this time I could see his desperation.
âBecause Rigel condemns himself to being alone,â I heard as he suffered before me.
âDid you hear? GO, NICA!â he spat at me, in a way that would have scared anyone. For once, I followed my heart instead of my reason.
I reached out, put my arm around his head and pulled him towards me.
I held him.
I held him so that Iâd break with him, without knowing why I was going to pieces too.
I held him with all the strength I had, and his hands grasped for my dress, as if he was going to push me away.
âYou wonât be alone any moreâ¦â I whispered in his ears. âI wonât leave you, Rigel. I promise.â I sensed his shuddering breaths against my stomach. âYou wonât feel alone ever again. Ever againâ¦â
And as I said those wordsâ¦he violently clutched the fabric of my dress. And thenâ¦he pulled me towards him.
Rigel clung to me. He pressed his head against my stomach.
His breath caught in his throat, shattering my soul, as if that confession had been all he needed to hear.
An earthquake rumbled through me. My eyes widened and my hands dug into his hair as if my soul was being uprooted from myself.
He clung desperately to me, as though I was the thing he desired most in the worldâ¦and my heart exploded.
Erupted like a newborn galaxy.
My soul expanded and wrapped around Rigel, merging with his breath. I felt the urgent need to have him there, close to me, united like two parts of the same spirit. United by the heart, two fragments that had spent a lifetime chasing each other to become one whole.
I shivered and my eyes filled with tears. I clung to him, untethered, and once and for all, realised the truth.
It was too late.
I was full of him, inside. He had left his mark all over me.
All I wanted, all I desperately wanted was him, clasping me in his arms as if that would save the world. As if that would save himâ¦
Him, who I had known all my life, that boy at The Grave with dull, black eyes â Rigel, every fibre of my being screamed, Rigel, and no one else.
It felt like he had always been within me, bringing meaning to my silences, holding my dreams when they were too frightening. I was living off his heartbeat, that unsteady, clashing rhythm that had imprinted directly on my heart.
I belonged to him with every glimmer of my soul.
With every thought.
And every breath.
We were the end and the beginning of a single story â eternal and inseparable, Rigel and I, a star and a sky, scratches and Band-Aids: together, a constellation of shivers.
Togetherâ¦right from the start.
And as I fell apart, and sewed myself back together out of pieces that screamed nothing but his name, as everything disintegrated and he became a part of me, I understood that my heart would always and only ever belong to him.