141

[ARTEMY]
Gazing at her, a mixture of awe and affection enveloped me. She was a woman in pain, yet her heart extended towards my well-being.
“Artemy,” she uttered softly, her voice like a gentle caress against my senses.
My name on her lips was a symphony, echoing with a sweetness I could never tire of. “Do you know how much I love hearing my name from your lips?” I confessed, a smile tugging at my mouth. The resonance of her saying my name was an unceasing joy.
A hum of contentment escaped her lips against my neck, a soft melody that stirred my emotions. “I remember your name. And… your eyes.”
My smile widened, a sense of relief washing over me. Her memory of me was a precious treasure. “Say my name again,” I found myself beseeching, the yearning evident in my voice.
“Artemy,” she whispered, and though I couldn’t see it, I could feel her smile. The weight in my chest lightened, and a grin painted across my face. Leaning in, I pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before gently lifting her in my arms.
Her arms circled my neck as we embarked towards our room, a cocoon of intimacy enveloping us. Just as I was about to set her on the bed, a knock on the door disrupted the moment.
“Come in,” I invited, fully aware of the identity of our visitor. Rebecca settled onto the bed, her gaze over my shoulder, a half-smile curving her lips, an expression that radiated warmth.
“Ah, there is my girl,” Nona’s voice greeted as she stepped to the bedside. With a light push, she displaced me and sat down beside Rebecca. Her presence was comforting, familiar.
Nona placed a small bowl of warm coconut oil on the nightstand, her eyes dancing mischievously. “Are you ready for your massage?” she inquired, a playful wink accompanying her words.
Rebecca’s enthusiasm was palpable as she nodded, a radiant smile gracing her lips. In that moment, she appeared so serene, a touch of shyness blending seamlessly with her happiness.
“Here,” Nona directed, adjusting the pillow as she assisted Rebecca into a more reclined position. Rebecca’s dress was gently shifted to reveal her rounded stomach, a sacred space she tenderly caressed.
I couldn’t help but be captivated by her, the way her ebony hair cascaded against the pillow, her cheeks imbued with a rosy hue, her green eyes sparkling like gems. She was a vision, an ethereal presence.
“I loved having my belly rubbed when I was pregnant with Lynda,” Nona shared, her words a bridge back to reality. With a gentle motion, she picked up some oil and applied it to Rebecca’s belly.
These nights of massages had become a ritual, a means for Rebecca and Nona to reconnect. The intimacy of the act was palpable, knitting their bonds tighter.
I observed Rebecca, her eyes locked on her stomach, as Nona’s hands moved in a soothing cadence. The gentle rise and fall of the bump beneath Nona’s touch held an enchanting rhythm.
“She’s dancing in there,” Nona laughed, her voice a joyful melody. “Such a happy baby.”
Nona continued her gentle massage, her voice tender as she addressed Rebecca’s stretched skin. “The coconut oil will ease the tightness. It’ll make you feel more comfortable, and it’s great for soothing itching skin too.”
Rebecca’s subtle nod was accompanied by a nervous nibble on her lip, a fleeting gesture that revealed her unease. Her gaze momentarily met mine before shifting back to Nona’s. In a hushed tone, she confessed, “It feels good.”
Nona’s pause was punctuated by her slightly parted lips, a display of her astonishment. It marked the first time Rebecca had directly addressed her. From my vantage point, I could discern tears welling up in Nona’s eyes as her gaze dipped to Rebecca’s abdomen.
“I’m glad,” Nona responded, her voice carrying a tinge of hoarseness. Creating a respectful distance, I retreated, granting them a moment of intimacy that was uniquely theirs.
Nona’s words flowed aimlessly, and Rebecca absorbed them with rapt attention, embracing each syllable.
After tenderly massaging Rebecca’s baby bump and her back, Nona tenderly pulled the comforter over her, tending to her comfort.
Rebecca’s drowsiness was palpable, her eyelids drooping and breathing steadying. Yet, a small, serene smile lingered on her lips.
Approaching me, Nona positioned herself in front of me, her hand affectionately patting my cheek. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” she urged, her voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and emotion. “She… spoke to me after so long. And I know, if it wasn’t for you fighting to bring her back, she would have never taken that step. It’s all you.”
Nona’s words stirred a tightness in my chest, and my gaze involuntarily shifted to Rebecca’s slumbering form, my heart echoing her presence.
Nona’s words continued to resonate as she departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Rebecca’s struggles surged to the forefront of my mind.
A pang of sorrow gripped me at the memory. Rebecca, my beloved, had weathered unimaginable hardships. Regret coursed through me, realizing my actions had contributed to her suffering.
My eyes closed briefly as if to shield myself from the weight of those memories. My beautiful Angel, subjected to so much pain because of my failures.
Frustration crept in as I ran my hand through my hair. My shortcomings had led to this moment, and I couldn’t shake the responsibility.
Opening my eyes, I met Rebecca’s peaceful slumber. She cradled her belly, a tender sight that constricted my throat.
A wave of sorrow surged over me, contrasting with the adoration she deserved during her pregnancy. She should have been treated with the utmost care, cherished beyond measure.
Instead, she had endured a torturous ordeal, a testament to the cruelty she had suffered. He had shattered her.
Taking a step closer to the bed, I wrestled with my emotions, tears threatening to breach my resolve. How I longed to rewrite history, to shield her from the pain she had experienced.
“Don’t stop loving her,” Nona’s words echoed in my mind, a solemn reminder of my duty.
With the door closing behind Nona, her words lingered, creating a haunting chorus in my ears.
She had endured hell.
Rebecca’s face swam into focus as I pinched my eyes shut, her image etching itself into my consciousness.
My thoughts spiraled, a vortex of guilt and longing. If only time could be rewritten, if only her past could be untangled from its torment.
The weight of those three words, “Don’t stop loving her,” anchored me. My affection for her was unwavering, an unbreakable bond.
I moved to the bedside, my fingers tenderly caressing Rebecca’s hair. A sleepy murmur escaped her lips, her slumber undisturbed. I smiled as I climbed onto the bed, enfolding her in my arms.
Her body molded against mine, her arm finding its place around my waist. Nestling her face against my chest, she sighed in her half-asleep state.
A memory resurfaced Rebecca once likened herself to fire. In that moment, I couldn’t help but agree. Our love blazed brightly, unstoppable, impervious to extinguishment.
A resolute smile graced my lips as I embraced Rebecca. Her warmth merged with mine, an affirmation that we were bound by an unbreakable flame.
[REBECCA]
Would you be interested in engaging in a playful musical session?
I glided my fingers over the piano keys, feeling their texture beneath my touch, yet refraining from exerting any pressure. Gradually, I reopened my eyes, directing my gaze squarely onto Artemy. His intent gaze was fixed on me, an air of anticipation surrounding him.
With an unbroken visual connection between us, I allowed my fingertips to begin their delicate dance. They moved across the keys with a tenderness, coaxing out a mellifluous and enchanting melody. This musical composition flowed around us akin to a languid, unhurried wave, prompting a contented smile to grace my lips.
The invitation lingered in the air, woven into his words, “Feel free to continue serenading the piano with your touch.”
“Let your melodies grace the air, like an angel’s gift,” Artemy’s voice entreated, a sincere plea evident in his tone.
“I long to be enchanted by the notes you conjure,” he expressed, the desire to experience my musical performance evident in his words.
–
I jolted awake, my eyes flying open with a suddenness that sent my heart racing.
“Would you care to engage in a game?” The words reverberated in the chamber of my ears.
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
My gaze descended upon Artemy, who was also stirring from his slumber. He swiftly sat upright, fixing me with a quizzical gaze.
“Angel?”
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
I instinctively pressed my hand against my chest, attempting to alleviate the constricting tightness that had taken hold there.
“If you wish, you can continue playing the piano.”
My eyes shifted towards the door, my breath coming faster than before.
“Rebecca, what’s troubling you?” Artemy inquired.
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
A restless energy tingled in my fingertips. The compulsion was fierce, almost overwhelming. My body thrummed with an insatiable need to play. I struggled to comprehend this sensation.
Yet, it felt as though I might suffocate if I did not yield to this urge.
Artemy’s voice echoed in my ears.
Images surged like fleeting flashes behind my closed eyelids.
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
I gasped, fighting to inhale as my lungs seemed to tighten. Without a second thought, I extricated myself from the bed, a sharp pang in my abdomen ignored amidst the urgency.
Artemy called my name, his voice trailing after me as I paid it no heed. I rushed out of the bedroom, my feet steering me toward the room adorned with a grand piano. I swung open the door and entered.
With the flick of a switch, the room flooded with light. Sensing Artemy’s presence behind me, my taut shoulders eased.
Summoning a deep breath, I advanced further into the room, halting before the majestic piano.
“Angel,” Artemy breathed, surprise lacing his tone.
“Do you have the inclination to play?”
Yes, yes, an emphatic yes resonated within me. An ardent desperation swelled within my chest, a desire so potent it could reduce me to tears. The intensity was almost unbearable.
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
I yearned to. To play for Artemy.
But I was uncertain of how.
I sealed my eyes shut, a dull ache forming in my temple.
“Play on my behalf, Angel.”
Seating myself on the bench, my eyelids remained shut.
The instant my fingertips brushed the piano’s keys, I surrendered. Immersed in a torrent of sensation, I became unmoored from myself. My thoughts whisked me away to days long past.
My fingers danced, an effortless glide over the piano’s keys. There was no deliberation, only surrender to the music that surged forth.
Delicately. Tenderly. I played.
Melodies flowed ceaselessly, notes pouring forth from the piano. A gentle harmony enveloped me, akin to a soothing tide that washed over my senses.
I opened my eyes, greeted by the intense azure of Artemy’s irises as he sat comfortably on the couch. His expression, initially marked by astonishment, underwent a subtle transformation that eluded my comprehension. His features gradually softened, a gentle curve gracing his lips to form a tender smile.
His clenched fists, brought to his lips, revealed a trembling vulnerability I couldn’t overlook. Amidst the melodious notes weaving through the air, I observed his palpable nervousness.
As my lips curled into what could only be described as a “smile,” I locked my gaze onto Artemy, the music encircling us. In that instance, our connection transcended mere eye contact.
Our mutual gaze, an unspoken dialogue between cerulean and emerald depths, unfolded like a carefully orchestrated dance. It was as though, finally, I could inhale the long-awaited breath of solace.
In that ephemeral juncture, the world seemed to fade away. All the anguish, every pang of suffering, and each haunting memory dissolved into insignificance. The present was paramount, a continuum defined by the synergy between my piano performance and Artemy’s rapt attention.