Dark Layers (Volume 4) Page 3

  "I will pack up some of your things tonight, and we will take them back with us. Only the necessities for now. I will have someone come and pack up the rest of your things over the coming weeks."

  "Okay." I whisper as he feeds me another piece of steak.

  "We will be happy again, Anile. I promise." He whispers.

  My tummy pangs in pain as a dreaded feeling hits me - my baby, our lost child. I swallow hard and my entire body pricks with uneasiness.

  "Elijah, do you think we will have another chance of having a child?"

  It's the unspeakable question, but I have to ask him.

  He takes the tray of food off of our tummies and slides it over our heads, onto my sideboard. He slips his hand back behind me and squeezes me in his arms. I try not to cry, so badly, but just one tear escapes my eyes.

  "Yes, one way or another, you will be the Mother of my child, Anile - if that is what you want." He breathes into my ear.

  I grasp him so tight it makes my arms ache. I try to hold my breath in hope that I can stop myself from crying. I snuggle into his hard chest and lay still for so long. I close my eyes, I feel safe and sleepy. Without warning, I drift off into - for the first time in months - a peaceful unconscious state.

  "Where did you come from?" I ask a sweet little girl. She's so small, probably four years old. Her hair is long and raven black, her skin, as white as snow.

  "You." She giggles. "I came from you, Mummy."

  I stand up so quickly my head spins. I seize my temple in dismay.

  "Where am I?"

  She giggles again. Her voice is like mine, soft and gentle and squeaky.

  "You are dreaming, Mummy."

  I fold my arms around myself. I feel strange, like someone has to depend on me - I don't come first anymore. I peer around. Everywhere I look is black, as black as the night's sky. There is nothing else I can see, only this sweet little girl. She's dressed in red, a pretty red dress that ruffles at her knees.

  "You are very pretty, what is your name?" I ask. I kneel down to her height, she's so small and skinny.

  "I am, Anile." She blushes and leans her head to one side - I think she's shy.

  I gasp. "You are me?" I ask in confusion.

  "No, I came from you. You are me." She tries to play.

  "I'm so confused." I say weak. I squeeze my eyes shut, once, twice - three times. She isn't vanishing, if anything, her features are becoming clearer. She does look like me, translucent white skin, thin lips - but her hair, that is not mine.

  "I'm not surprised you are confused, do you even know who you are anymore?" She says angelic.

  She takes my hand. Her grip is gentle, soft - her hand is so small in mine.

  "Where are we going?" I ask while smiling down at her. "There is nothing here."

  "Where do you think?" She frowns. "We are going to find you. You are lost."

  I WAKE AND GASP FOR AIR. Fuck, what the hell was that dream all about?

  "Anile? Are you okay?" Elijah says in an alarming voice.

  I try to lean forward but I can't, I'm strapped in. I peer around while trying to gather myself. We are in his car, driving in the darkness.

  "Where are we going?" I say sleepily.

  "Home." He pauses for a second and quickly pulls over.

  I gaze out of the window, we are in a country lane. There are trees everywhere, growing over the lane, and the road is dark like the night sky - I cannot see beyond the cars headlights.

  "Anile, are you okay?" He says. He leans over and takes my hand in his.

  I turn and look at him, and for some reason, I cannot help myself, I burst into tears.

  "Princess, what's wrong?"

  He unclasps my seatbelt and pulls me over to him. I rest my cheek against his shoulder and continue to cry. He bizarrely has no top on, his skin is soft and warm, his muscles tense.

  "I had a dream, it was a really nice dream." I sob.

  "Then why are you crying, Sweetheart?"

  "Because I wanted it to be real."

  "Oh Princess." He pushes me back into my seat so he can look at me. He takes my chin between his thumb and finger. "Anile, your dreams will come true. I promise."

  I wipe my wet eyes. "Elijah, I'm so sad, so broken." I lower my gaze.

  He gets out of the car quickly. He comes around to my side and opens my door.

  "Come here." He says sweetly.

  I get out of the car and stand in front of him. He's in only his jeans and shoes. I have his linen shirt on and my panties, my legs are naked. He pulls me in his arms, tightly holding me. I wrap my arms around his waist.

  "Anile, I know you are sad. It will not be forever, you will be happy again." He whispers.

  I sob into his chest again, I cannot help myself, I cannot stop my tears. "Elijah, I want the pain to stop." I cry.

  He kisses my head a thousand times. I hear him almost sob too as he stifles a sigh.

  "Please don't cry, Princess. Please, I cannot take it." He begs in a broken voice.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and try so hard to stop my tears.

  "I love you, Anile, I will try to stop the pain, I swear. Tell me what I can do? Do you want another baby? Do you want - what do you want?" He says in a mess of words.

  His desperation kills me inside, my heart hurts so damn much.

  "I just want the pain to stop." I whisper.

  "It will, in time. It's only been a few months, that's no time at all."

  I pause for a second - I wonder if he feels this broken?

  "Do you really think that?"

  "I know it, Anile. Trust me, I know it. The pain will never truly go away, but it will become bearable, you will learn to live with it."

  "I'm sorry." I breathe.

  He pulls me at arm's length. "Don't you ever apologise for being sad, don't you ever, Anile." He warns, his face passive and sad, eyes wide.

  I gaze up into his eyes. He wants to cry, I can see it. I swallow hard and shake my head, hoping to gather myself.

  "It's just my dream, it felt so real, so real." I lower my head. "It was just a dream." I say to myself.

  "What did you dream about?" He asks serious.

  I suddenly feel the coolness of the evening. It's chilly, frosty on my naked legs. I start to shiver a little.

  "I dreamt of a little girl. She said she came from me, she even said her name was Anile. She was so pretty and small and sweet." I look up at him. "She took my hand and I asked her, 'where are we going?' And she said, 'we are going to find you. You are lost.'"

  He gasps loudly. "Jesus, no wonder you are upset." He blinks rapidly. "Anile, Derek and I have been worried about you for months, you have changed so much - and not just since you lost our child." He takes my hand in his and raises it to his chest. He places it flat across his heart. "Please tell me what I can do to help you?"

  "I don't even know how to help myself, Elijah, so I cannot tell you what to do." I frown.

  "You are just confused and full to the brim with grief. That's all." He tries to assure me.

  I breathe again, slowly, I inhale. I bite my lower lip.

  "I don't really know what to say."

  "Then don't say anything, Princess. Come, let's go home."

  He opens the car door for me and ushers me back inside. He practically runs back around to the driver's seat. Once he's back inside the car, he turns to face me.

  "Everything will be okay, Anile. Trust me." He says, his hand covering mine with surety.

  HIS ROOM IS STILL the same, tranquil, serene and homely. The beige carpet is soft on my soles, I flex my naked toes and welcome the warmth. I cast my eyes across the array of photos in golden frames, dotted unevenly, all over his beige walls. His Mother looks so happy in them, and in all of them, she has Elijah as a child in her arms. They are laughing together, playing at a park - they are nice and comforting, it's comforting to see that Elijah, at one point, had happiness.

  "Are you okay, Anile?" He whispers from behind me.

  I turn, s
lowly. He's no longer naked from the waist up, he's now dressed in another shirt - a light blue shirt. I stare up into his deep blue eyes and lose myself. I pull him into my arms and exhale deeply while hugging him. I feel so safe in his arms. He rakes his fingers through my golden hair while inhaling my scent. I break our embrace and collect his hand, entwining our fingers together. I pull him out of his bedroom. I feel his eyes on me while we make our way downstairs. We meet the first floor and I don't turn to make our way to the living area, I turn right and head towards my greenhouse room. I want to be in there, to feel nature and nothing else. Once outside the panelled door, Elijah releases my hand.

  "Here." He pushes the door open. "Go inside."

  It's so bright in here, he's finished the lighting. The long tube lights stretch across the glass ceiling. As soon as I take one step in, I close my eyes and accept the scent of sweet flowers. It smells so beautiful and fresh in here. I inhale once more while opening my eyes, a sweet fragrance lingering all around me. I walk right over to the centre of the room, by the mountain of roses, red and cream and the rainbow collection. I touch the soft petals. I feel like creating a bunch for a vase. I cast my eyes past all the flowers and try to find gardening tools. In the left corner of the room Elijah has added a little shed, it has a cute pointed roof, it's small but tall, and painted a fresh bright white. I open the wooden door and see gloves, clippers, pots - everything you could possibly need to garden. I collect the clippers, gloves and a silver bucket plant pot. I make my way back to the roses and start cutting them from the stems. I carefully remove the thorns. Once I have a beautiful collection of twenty-five roses - some white, some red but most of them are the rainbow roses - I fill the bucket. I sit in a white wicker chair and finish setting them together. They smell magnificent, and make me feel like nothing else exists. Once they are perfectly arranged, I smile fondly. My Mother and I used to do this in her greenhouse - although her greenhouse was nowhere near this grand. I peer over to the door and realize Elijah isn't there. I had forgotten all about him.

  "Elijah?" I call out.

  "One minute, Princess." He calls from down the hall.

  I collect my phone out of Elijah's shirt that I'm still wearing and check the time. Jesus, I've been in here for longer than I thought - two hours. I'm astonished how time has passed so quickly.

  "Are you okay?" He says soft.

  I gaze over to the door and see him leaning against the oak frame.

  "Yes, strangely I am. I didn't realize how long I was in here."

  "You have all the time in the world, you can stay in here for as long as you like."

  I smile while peering down at the bouquet I have created.

  "That's pretty." He whispers.

  "I made it to sit by the piano."

  "Would you like me to put them there?"

  I shake my head. "No, I will."

  I get to my feet and glide past him. He follows after me.

  Walking down the hall, I wonder, "why do you have two staircases in your house?"

  "The other staircase, in the entrance hall, leads up to the guest bedrooms and the gym."

  "Oh." I say under my breath. Who needs two bloody staircases? "Why do you have a spare bedroom down here with an en-suite if you have spare bedrooms upstairs?"

  "It was once a room where I could paint, but I gave it up because I was mentally blocked, so I turned it into a bedroom."

  I quickly remember him telling me on our first date that he likes to paint. We reach the living area and I set the flowers atop of the grand white piano. I turn to face him, he's hovering behind me.

  "When was the last time you painted?"

  His lips form a frown while he casts his mind back. "Um, maybe eight years ago. I do get the easel out every now and then, but not much springs to mind."

  "That's a long time ago. Do you miss it?"

  "I do - but painters block isn't a choice."

  "Huh." I breathe.

  I make my way over to the cream sofa. I run my fingers over the back of it while I head towards the lit fireplace. It smells like freshly burnt wood, it's crackling, and it's warm. I stretch my hands out over the flames and enjoy the heat on my palms.

  "Anile, can you please answer me, are you okay?"

  I frown and wonder if I am - I think I am, I feel okay.

  "I'm fine, Elijah. I'm glad to be here with you."

  I feel him at my back; he doesn't touch me, he's just standing close.

  "This fireplace is stunning, and so big. I reckon we could both fit inside standing up straight."

  He laughs a little. "You are probably right, Princess." I hear him sigh. "Do you want to watch a movie, or eat, or - what do you want to do?"

  He feels uncomfortable, I can sense it.

  "Elijah," I turn to face him, "I just want to relax, listen to music, make love." I peer up into his intense eyes, he's regarding my ideas.

  "Take your clothes off." He whispers.

  He turns away from me and walks out of the vast living area, through the hallway that leads to my greenhouse. I undress. I unbutton his shirt and let it fall off of my arms. I slide my panties off and stand naked in front of the fireplace. The heat from the flames is warm, it feels good against my skin. Celine Dion, Because You Loved Me, starts to linger in the background. I close my eyes and cradle my body. I want to cry, I want to laugh. I lower my gaze - I don't really know what I want to do.

  "Move, Princess." He orders in a soft voice from behind me.

  I open my eyes. He has a huge white fur rug in his grip. I take a step back and he dresses the floor in front of the fireplace with the rug.

  "Sit down." He orders.

  I take centre stage in the rug. I cast my hands over the fur, it's so soft and smooth. Elijah falls next to me, his legs crossed. He just stares at me, he says nothing.

  "I am okay, Elijah," I peer down at my fingers knotted in the fur, "or, I will be okay."

  "Anile," he covers my hand with his own, "what can I do?"

  I look up at him. "What do you mean?" I frown.

  "Tell me what I can do to steal that haunted look off of your face?"

  "There is nothing anyone can do." I say weak.

  "Can you smile? Even if it's fake."

  I stare at him in confusion - that's such a weird question. He heeds my gaze, mentally beckoning me to smile. I smile weak, and strangely, I do feel a little better.

  "That's better." He whispers.

  He extends a long hand and grasps the back of my head. He pulls me onto my knees, moving me closer to him. I close my eyes. His lips touch mine, gently, just a small chaste kiss but it's all I need. I crawl into his arms and deepen our kiss by grasping the back of his hair. His hands are holding my face hostage, I like it, I feel completely his. I run my fingers through his short hair and open his mouth with my tongue and taste him. Oh he tastes sweet, like orange juice - he must have just had a glass. My pout swells, as do my breasts, my breasts feel full - I want him to make love to me.

  "Ah." He moans into my mouth.

  "Make love to me, Elijah." I whisper between kisses.

  I slide my hands down from his hair, over his shoulders and through his shirt buttons. I open his shirt and slide it off of his hard body. I cast my palms over his dust of chest hair; he feels magnificent in my grip. He pushes against my shoulders, forcing me back until I feel the soft fur against my naked, tender skin. He opens my legs with his, and he moves between them. His jeans don't feel good against my thighs.

  "Take your jeans off." I beg breathlessly.

  With one hand bearing his weight beside my head, he uses his other and unzips his jeans. He tugs at his boxer briefs and jeans, and once they are at his knees, I kick them off with my feet. And with my thighs, I pull him into a tight embrace between my legs. I tie my legs around him and continue to kiss him hard, my hands around his neck pulling him closer. He feels extraordinary against my skin - I know I would never get this with any other man in my entire life. With the heat of the fire, an
d the music turning from emotional to dramatic - Beyonce, Broken Hearted Girl - our kiss turns from sensually soft, to hard and rough. He accidently bashes into my lips with his teeth a few times, causing my pout to bleed slightly. The taste of my own blood is tangy on my tongue. I grasp him tighter between my legs and start to feel animalistic; I feel angry with everything that has happened to us, to myself. I know I can release some of my anger this way - sexually - he is eccentric like this. I smash my hands against his naked back and scratch at his skin.

  "Ah, fuck!" He moans into my mouth.

  I feel him bleeding slightly; his warm blood beneath my nails. I massage his scratched skin with both my hands. His erection grows against my sex, pulsating on my tender, naked sex. I try to push him inside me by moving my pelvis up towards him.

  "No, Anile." He stops kissing me instantly and pulls back from me.

  I frown. "Why? I want to make love, Elijah. Don't stop." I say head drunk off of his essence.

  I try to pull him back to me, tugging at his neck, but he grabs my wrists, anchors them above my head and forces.

  "I don't have any protection."

  I turn from sensually hot to raging cold in a nanosecond. "Now you want to use protection?" I sneer at him.

  I snatch my hands free and push hard against his chest, ordering him off of me. He rolls to the side and sits up, his knees to his chest, his chin in his hands. I turn my back on him and grasp my knees in my arms, pulling them to my chest.

  "Anile, I didn't mean it like that."

  I peer to the side. I cannot see him but I feel his eyes burning into my back.

  "You just got us both naked and now you want to stop because you don't have any protection?"

  "I didn't think." He confesses.

  I turn on my knees, hands knotted in the fur - I'm on all fours. "I don't want to use protection - do you?" I ask serious. He doesn't meet my stare. "Elijah, look at me!" I order.