Telor 32
I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to, not that I did, but I was sleep trapped. Her head rested on my chest with one arm and leg draped over my body, like she was trying to keep me as close as possible to her. I wasn’t complaining. I could very well live the rest of my life in her arms and die a happy man.
Live the rest of my life. That was a new ambition. Definitely only one Catalina could have elicited from me. The gauze on her foot grazed against my leg and a heavy feeling in my stomach made me sick, like someone punched me. That broken glass was on the floor because I threw it there, right after I punched the fridge. Had I not been tempted to drink, she never would have gotten hurt. I must have missed a piece when I haphazardly cleaned it up. Granted, it was mostly a superficial wound, but it was still unacceptable.
The few AA meetings I went to were full of discussions about these revelations that the other alcoholics had. These singular events that made them say, “Hey, I’m done.” I always scoffed at the idea of that happening—goes to show how much I knew. This was my moment. Anything that had the potential to hurt Catalina was something I could do without.
She moaned into my bare chest and nestled her head deeper into me.
“I love you, Cariad,” I said, stroking her loose brown hair. “I’ll try to prove your faith in me.”
“Don’t leave me,” she mumbled. For a moment, I thought she had woken up, then she nestled her face into my chest, still sleeping like the angel she was. “I need you, Telor.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” I told her softly. “I’m here.”
At some point, I must have dozed off, because the annoying alarm roused me from my comfortable sleeping position. Before I could shut it off, Catalina’s hand shot out and successfully beat it quiet and then returned to her side. How did she manage to make it to work on time?
Her back was pressed to my front, and my arms were around her. She rolled over and sleepily opened her eyes before smiling shyly at me. Her petite hand brushed my hair away from my forehead. I planted a small kiss on her palm as she did so.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I said, leaning down to kiss her. She held her hand in front of her mouth.
“Morning breath,” was her answer.
My answer was to move her hand and kiss her anyways. “Good morning.”
Her playful giggling was music to my ears. “I love waking up next to you,” she said.
“It’s a good thing we’re going to be doing it a lot, then,” I told her. “Come on, we need to get ready for work.” I gave her bottom a small slap, and she went into another giggling fit before getting out of bed.
Work was a surreal experience. I expected we’d keep things private, the way we had been, but Catalina wasn’t having any of that. We walked through the doors, hands clasped together, right into Seline’s view. She afforded us a cursory glance, narrowed in on our joined hands, and went back to the papers she was reading as we entered.
“Was it worth it?” Cheyenne asked, from her perch on the table.
Catalina was out of earshot, so I busied myself organizing papers and spoke to Cheyenne in a low voice. “I told you I was leaving. It’s not my fault you didn’t believe me.”
“Telor, she’s a human, you’re a Guide. What do you honestly expect to happen?”
“We met with Denny last night,” I told her. Not knowing exactly how much to say. To keep her out of harm’s way, I chose my words carefully “This wasn’t some type of chance encounter. Denny has something to do with this.”
“Destiny cannot control the dead,” she stated, matter-of-factly.
“No, no he can’t. But he can control the living,” I said. She gave me a questioning look. I sighed and spelled it out for her. “Denny ordained for me to get shot that night and for Lina to die on the stairs. All in the hopes that I would be the Guide to collect her.”
“Fate doesn’t take chances like that. This seems like an awful lot of what ifs for Destiny. Especially when he’s used to knowing everything.” She paused for a moment. “Plus, what does he get out of this?”
Alas, the one question I hoped she wouldn’t ask. “You should go, love.” I grabbed some papers and moved to another table. “Lina is coming.”
“You’re right, I need to go, but answer my question, or I’ll hang around a whole lot longer and draw more attention than you want.” Cheyenne was a stubborn child. “Better hurry.”
Calling her bluff was often not wise. She would argue a point until she was blue in the face, even after she knew she was wrong. I looked over my shoulder; Catalina was getting closer but pretty concentrated on the binder in her hands.
“Soul mates, we’re soul mates.”
If looks could kill—and if I weren’t already dead—the one Cheyenne shot me would have put me six-feet under. Her whole demeanor changed, her body seemed stiff and unwilling.
“Are you okay?” I asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from me and shook her head back and forth.
“Fine.” Her gaze traveled past me to where Catalina stood. Pure anger poured from her. “I have to go, you’re right.”
Then she was gone. Cheyenne had never acted like that. She was always a huge ball of sunshine. The only sunshine in my dark world, until Catalina, that was.
“You look worried, what’s wrong?” Catalina said, suddenly in front of me. Her soft hand cupped my face. “Talk to me.”
“Just thinking,” I answered, managing a small smile, hoping to quell her worry. I pressed a small kiss to the palm of her hand.
“Liar.” She smiled. “I have some good news, though.”
“I love good news.”
“Jilsey is taking an extra shift at the hospital, and Gavin had to go to Louisville to help his brother, Gideon, move. So, my house will be empty tonight,” she said. Standing on her tiptoes, she grazed her lips against my ear. “Empty.”
Oh...
I tried to hide my chuckle with a cough, but she, of course, caught it. “My apartment is always empty.”
“Stop raining on my parade.”
“Consider me rained out,” I told her.