"I'll break down your walls one by one and sneak into the gates of your icy heart before crushing it into tiny pieces." He murmurs mercilessly as his lips lightly brush my ear, the contact eliciting an indescribable sensation through every inch of m...
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Dinner is surprisingly pleasant, with few awkward moments.
It's almost like Ludovic and Anastasia never had a heated argument days prior, as they go back to their playful sibling banters.
It also helps that Anastasia prepared a delicious turkey meal accompanied by creamy pasta.
Dinner goes by so fast that by the time we finish eating, I'm surprised to see it's a quarter past 9 o'clock.
After helping Anastasia to place the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Ludovic retreats to the basement to do his carpentry.
As I chug down a water bottle, I can feel Anastasia's eyes fixated on me.
Pretending like I don't notice her staring, I pretend to be fascinated by the kitchen slab.
"I gotta ask," Anastasia is first to break the silence, "What's the deal between you and my brother?"
Her question catches me by surprise, but not enough to make me have a repeat of my reaction when she raised the question during my first supper with the Delmore siblings.
My reticent countenance causes her to prode, "I mean, I know it's none of my business, but I'm really curious,"
"Why don't you ask him?" I challenge neutrally, hoping for the conversation to end.
She raises her arms in exasperation, "I would ask him, but the guy never tells me anything!"
Silence reigns.
"Look, I know I shouldn't pry," she adds frantically, "And I feel horrible for what my mom did to you years ago."
The mention of Mrs. Delmore is enough to cripple me.
Sensing a shift in my body language, she straightens her posture before her expression is more determined, "I wanted to address it before I left. What my mom did to you both is awful, and I'm sorry for the pain she put you through."
Her words catch me off guard.
Even if I can't stand Mrs. Delmore, maybe a part of me held a bias and expected that Anastasia would be just like her mom.
In retrospect, I was wrong for thinking that way.
"You're not responsible for your mother's actions," I trail off, "So please don't apologize."
Funny, isn't it?
The people who are responsible for other people's misfortunes and suffering never apologize for their actions, whereas other people end up apologizing on their behalf.
"I'll be leaving by the end of the week," she announces as she rests her back against the edge of the kitchen island, "Before I leave, promise me that you'll take care of Ludovic while I'm gone."
I nod, "Of course, you don't even have to ask."
She wears a closed smile before her glacial eyes shift to the floor.
