Ann’s POV
Weary from all the crying, I snuggle closer to Vince, wondering if he is asleep.
When I look up, I see him watching me with a soft gaze that makes me want to break down again.
It feels different having Vince sympathize with me. When others do that, it makes me so sad and pathetic, but with Vince, I feel different.
I don’t feel pathetic. Or embarrassed. Or silly.
Instead, I want to be pitied more. Comforted better. And assured that everything will be fine.
“Do you still want to know about what happened the other day?” I’m trying not to take my mind to the kiss before I broke down when he suddenly ask.
I nod. “What?”
“The nightmare.” He replies and avoids my gaze for a while, probably still debating whether to tell me or not.
I nod again.
I’ve been so curious. I was sure it was a nightmare, but he denied it. It made me realize Vince could be vulnerable as well. That might have been the turning point for me. That was the moment I stopped feeling pathetic and embarrassed.
Because I know he could also be vulnerable. Even though he tried to hide it.
After all, we are all humans. No matter how strong we are, we can also be weak, depending on the situation. No matter how high and mighty we are, we can also fall.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t rise again. Or we can’t become stronger again.
“It started after I lost my father,” he starts, and I move upward so I can see his face properly. We lay on the bed facing each other, and I urge him to go on with a touch on his shoulder. “We had a fight the evening before. We’ve always had huge fights. He was controlling and I hated it. We used to argue about everything. We never seemed to come to an agreement on one thing till the very end. Mother said I took after his stubbornness.”
He smiles.
I forget about my sorrows for a while, ready to hear all of this and comfort him just like he has comforted me.
I just lost my mother. But Vince had gone through the same experience years ago. The best person who could console me is him.
“We…Mother has always been a major influence on my life. We didn’t fight until her husband died.”
He stops for a while and shuts his eyes.
“The next day, we were supposed to have a meeting at the family house in Verona. At the last minute, I changed the location due to some reasons which I tried to explain to my father. He wouldn’t hear me out and we fought over the phone. I decided seeing him eye to eye would resolve it all as the board members were still waiting for our decision. When I got home, he was waiting right outside, in the courtyard with a sword. It seemed like he was waiting for my arrival…” He pauses, and I almost sit up in curiosity when he pulls me down.
Now I am beginning to wonder what must have happened and why it resulted in the nightmares.
“He dared me to come closer, which I did and he threw a sword at me too.”
“What?!”
“Yes. We fought and he died.”
A loud gasp leaves my mouth. “You…you.. killed…did you hurt him?”
Vince stares up at me, a sad smile hovering over his lips. “That’s what everybody thinks. I’m not surprised you think the same way.”
Shit!
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Vince. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s ok.”
He doesn’t say anything again, so I decide to push it. “So what happened? How did it happen?”
I nod vigorously.
“Would you believe whatever I tell you?” He demands with uncertainty.
“Of course, I will. I trust you.”
That takes him by surprise. He watches me for a moment before replying. “We were fighting and I almost had him when he suddenly slumped. I believe it was a heart attack because he died immediately.”
I clamp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from shouting.
“No matter what they say, I still blame myself. I was the cause of that attack. Maybe if I had tried to stop him from fighting me, maybe he wouldn’t have had the attack and he wouldn’t have died. Maybe he would still be alive and we would still keep going with our everyday arguments.” His eyes are red as he balls his fists.
He is angry at himself.
I take a hold of his hands. “It’s not your fault, Vince.”
It is.”
“It’s not. You don’t need to blame yourself for every single thing or anyone who dies around you. You blame yourself for your father’s death and also blame yourself for my mother’s because you felt you could have done something different to save them. But that is not the case.”
He shakes his head. Apparently, he doesn’t believe what I am saying, and none of it makes him feel better.
“Do you believe in destinies?”
He doesn’t reply, but I know he doesn’t.
“Well, I do and that is the reason why I am taking my mother’s death so hard. Perhaps, we were destined to be apart for those long years so I could meet you. Perhaps, she was destined to die the moment we saw each other again after so long. Perhaps, your father was destined to die that particular day and your coming and the whole fight thing was just a coincidence.”
His face is expressionless. I can’t tell if he is comprehending my words.
“It’s just like you and I. I was destined to be molested by Carter so you and I could meet. What happened between us and how we met was too much of a coincidence so the best explanation for that is destiny. Meeting you led to this. We were destined to be married, even though….” I trail off.
Our marriage is a sensitive topic. If we are destined to be married, are we also destined to be together forever?
I doubt that.
Perhaps, we were destined to be together for a while for some sort of reason.
“My mom made me believe in destiny. She always emphasizes that, even though she was not a religious person. Before I knew it, I started to believe it truly existed when I met Ryan and when he proposed to me. But that belief is already deeply rooted in me to let go of, even when he left. I just believe everything happens for a reason.”
Vicente is avoiding my gaze. He has his head lowered, making me shift closer. Our bodies touch, and our faces inch away from each other.
“Do you believe it?”
“No!” His reply is loud and clear.
“Ok. So what happened next?”
He doesn’t seem interested in talking about it anymore, but I am still curious.
“Nothing. I started having nightmares…”
“And…?”
“And I went to see a therapist…”
“Good.”
“She helped but I stopped going and now, it’s back.”
“Is that why you don’t sleep? Are you scared the nightmares will come back if you sleep?”
“Not really. I’m just not used to sleeping.”
“Sleeping is natural. You can’t cheat nature, Vince,” I tell him. No wonder he slept off right on the couch the other day. He deprived himself of so much sleep that it’s taking a toll on him.
“No matter how much work you have, you shouldn’t deprive yourself of having at least 5 hours of sleep. Ok?”
“Ok.”
“Do you feel better talking to me about it?” I ask him, unsure of how to console him when he doesn’t look like someone who will break down soon.
“I don’t know. I just wanted you to know.”
“Why?” I know my questions are too many, but Vince is not one to be mad at me at the slightest thing.
“Just to make you feel better.” His reply makes my heart jolt forward. And I smile.
He is such a sweet man.
“Henceforth, we will sleep together…”
“What?!” He exclaims sharply.
Realizing what I said, I quickly correct. “Not literally. Or practically or whatever. I mean we would share a bed. You sleep there on that edge and I sleep here. I won’t let you deprive yourself of sleep any longer, ok?”
He doesn’t reply.
“If you have a nightmare, wake me up, I’m going to make you some hot peppermint chocolate drink and I will sit with you through it till you overcome it, ok?”
He doesn’t reply.
“Vince?” I call. “Are you okay?”
He is just staring at my face without blinking. Fear jumps into my heart as I shake him. “Vince?”
“I like you.”
The word comes out in a whisper but it drips over me slowly, sinking in carefully until it dawns on me as he repeats.
“I like you, Ann.”