49

[ARTEMY]
Startled, she jumped and spun around, gasping, her hand clutching her chest in shock. Her eyes widened, but when she saw me, her tense shoulders relaxed in relief. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Artemy, what’s wrong?” Nona asked, joining Lynda’s side.
“I need to talk to Lynda,” I growled, my voice seething with anger.
Nona furrowed her brow in confusion and turned to Lynda. “What did you do now?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” she replied, feigning innocence with a squeaky voice.
Taking a step forward, I grabbed Lynda’s arm and forcefully pulled her out of the kitchen. I could hear Nona sighing behind me, muttering, “Here we go again.”
I pressed Lynda against the wall, still gripping her arm tightly. “You’re hurting me, Artemy,” she complained, rubbing her arms. “This is going to bruise tomorrow.”
I didn’t care about her pain. “Don’t test me now, Lynda. Why did you lie to Rebecca?” I snapped, my face inches away from hers.
“Oh, that,” she rolled her eyes dismissively. Smiling wide, she placed her hand on my chest and patted it. “I got this. Just leave it to me. I have everything planned out-the wedding, the babies.”
I gaped at her in shock. “Lynda,” I warned.
“Artemy.”
“That’s enough! I’m done with your games.” I pointed a finger at her, glaring as my body trembled with anger.
“No. You stop!” she retorted, matching my fierce glare. If she were one of my subordinates, my fingers would already be wrapped around her neck. She was lucky I considered her a sister and not just an employee. Lynda knew she could get away with anything and used it to her advantage. Every single time.
“Why are you so stubborn? What are you trying to hide, huh? Your feelings?” she hissed angrily. “Well, guess what? It’s too late. You should have thought about that before you let Becca touch the piano. As soon as she played for you, you gave yourself to her.”
Each word pierced through my heart like a sharp knife, fueling an overwhelming fury within me. I was on the verge of interjecting, but she pressed on, her voice trembling with anger.
“Do you really think I’m oblivious?” she exclaimed. “Every single night, she plays the piano for you. You care, Artemy, yet you try to conceal it. Stop pretending. Just stop and admit, once and for all, that you care. Why is that so difficult? Quit hiding behind your anger.”
My scowl deepened, and I snapped, “Lynda!” My voice came out louder than I intended, and her eyes widened in surprise. Folding her arms across her chest, she fell silent, her mouth snapping shut.
“This is none of your business,” I continued sharply. “I want you to stay out of it.”
She remained silent, her lips forming a tight line. Frustration surged within me, and I stepped away, pinching the bridge of my nose before exhaling heavily.
Her words stung even more because they held truth. It was a truth I had been reluctant to acknowledge, but Lynda had spoken it aloud, leaving me no choice but to confront it. I did care. It pained me to admit, but I did care. Rebecca had managed to find her way into my heart, reawakening emotions that had lain dormant for years.
“You should have seen her face when I told Becca you sent her the flowers,” Lynda whispered. “Her whole face lit up, her eyes sparkled, and she smiled.”
As she spoke, the flames of anger within me began to wane. I sighed and leaned against the opposite wall, feeling deflated. “You’re giving her false hope, Lynda. In the end, she’ll only get hurt. I’m not the right man for her.”
“But-”
“No. Stop whatever thoughts or plans you have in your mind. Marriage? Children? Are you out of your mind, Lynda? Don’t be delusional. Those things have no place in this life.”
“But if you just let it happen, maybe-”
I scoffed and then laughed bitterly, for what other response was there? Had she forgotten what occurred twenty-two years ago?
“My father let it happen, and look where that led us,” I said, my tone icy.
She flinched, retreating against the wall, her gaze falling. “That doesn’t mean it will always end up that way. Maybe you need to see the possibility and embrace it.”
“No. You’re mistaken. Whatever I feel is a weakness. A weakness that will only harm Rebecca in the end. This isn’t about me; it’s about her.”
With those words, I spun on my heels and stormed away, catching a glimpse of Lynda’s defeated posture before leaving her behind.
***
Dinner was an excruciating affair, enveloped in a heavy silence that stifled any attempt at conversation. The only sound that broke through the eerie quiet was the scraping of utensils against plates. Each of us sat there, lost in our own thoughts, but it was evident that our minds were consumed by the same concern: Rebecca.
After my discussion with Lynda, a tightness settled in my chest, my heart burdened with an ache. I longed to let my guard down, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. It was agonizing to keep my emotions locked away when all I yearned for was to hold Rebecca in my arms.
When the dinner finally concluded, I silently pushed my chair back and rose to my feet. Offering a nod to my companions, I wordlessly departed and ascended the stairs. Just as I was about to enter my room, I noticed the door to the piano room ajar.
Raising an eyebrow, a frown etched across my face, I felt compelled to investigate. Approaching the door, I pushed it open further and took a step inside. My heart skipped a beat when I laid eyes upon Rebecca seated at the piano.
She remained still, unmoving, until the sound of my throat clearing alerted her to my presence. Startled, she snapped her head up, her eyes brimming with alarm. Her posture instantly became defensive, but as soon as she recognized me, relief washed over her, dissipating the panic in her gaze.
“What are you doing here?” I inquired, keeping my voice gentle to avoid frightening her.
Rebecca blinked up at me and then shifted her gaze to the piano. “I wanted to play.”
That explanation made sense, but why hadn’t she begun playing?
Her next words caught me off guard, and I had to close my eyes as a surge of emotions coursed through me.
“I was waiting for you.”
Opening my eyes again, I met her gaze. “Okay,” I responded, stepping further into the room. I found myself unable to deny her anything.
Taking a seat on the couch, I reclined and stretched my legs out in front of me, waiting for her to play. And play she did. However, this time, she kept her eyes fixed on me. She played a melody I didn’t recognize, yet it was just as enchanting.
As she played, her ethereal beauty, gentle gaze, and tender eyes awakened dormant emotions within my otherwise unfeeling heart. Each passing moment in her presence quickened the beat of my cold heart. She was incredibly, unimaginably beautiful-like an angel.
Surprisingly, this notion didn’t make me cringe or stir anger within me. I was simply too captivated by her.
When the third song reached its conclusion, Rebecca remained seated, seemingly reluctant to depart. Astonishingly, I found myself not wanting to leave either.
“Aren’t you tired?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“What would you like to do?” I whispered, our eyes locked in a mesmerizing connection.
Rebecca shrugged and glanced down at her lap.
I too shifted my gaze and surveyed the room. My eyes landed on the shelves adorned with my late mother’s books.
Summoning a deep breath, I inquired, “Do you enjoy reading?”
“Yes,” she replied.
I gestured towards the shelves, my voice betraying a hint of hesitation. “There are plenty of books here.”
It was difficult to articulate the words. She was gradually immersing herself in my world-first the piano, and now the books. I couldn’t fathom why I had brought up the subject of books. The words had spilled out of my mouth before I could gather my thoughts.
I heard Rebecca shifting, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her rise from her seat. “Can I make use of these books?”
As I nodded, she swiftly made her way to the shelves. Rebecca took her time selecting a book and, finally, turned back to face me. “Can I borrow this one?”
“You can read whatever you want, Rebecca.”
“Thank you,” she said. Rebecca settled down on the couch beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. Resting her head on the arm of the couch, she opened the book.
The room enveloped us in silence, yet it felt serene. After a few minutes, I looked away and retrieved my laptop from the coffee table, placing it on my lap.
She read while I worked, attempting to keep myself occupied. However, my focus barely lingered on my emails. My gaze kept gravitating towards Rebecca.
Gradually, I noticed her succumbing to sleep. Her green eyes closed, her breathing becoming steady and gentle. Fatigue had claimed her, luring her into slumber.
Setting my laptop aside once again, I pushed myself up and approached Rebecca’s peacefully resting form. I delicately took the book from her grasp and set it beside my laptop. Leaning down, I carefully slid an arm behind her back and another beneath her knees. I lifted Rebecca gently, cradling her against my chest, ensuring she remained undisturbed.
She murmured sleepily, her head finding its place on my shoulder. Her eyes remained closed, assuring me that she still slept.
Walking into her room, I laid her down on the bed. Rebecca instinctively curled up as I tucked the covers over her body. Stepping back, I found myself fixated on her sleeping countenance.
She appeared delicate, almost fragile. Small. A surge of protectiveness surged through me.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted to calm my racing heart. I cast one final glance at Rebecca and quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind me.
From the very beginning, I should have been more cautious with her. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become so deeply involved. And now, it was too late.