The Mindless Man's Paradise

Chapter forty-five

Upon entering a new room, I found myself almost crying.

  No, I take that back. I was crying. Like a baby.

  Cyrus stood there, his own eyes welling up as well. I can only imagine he was feeling the same way I was. Afraid, lonely, and angry. Imminent death can do that to you.

  I yanked away from whatever official was holding on to me and I ran to Cyrus, throwing my arms around him. I buried my face in his warm neck. I felt as he went to pull away from the hug, not expecting me to latch on to him like I did. I sobbed into his shirt, doing my best not to get snot all over it. When he realized I wasn’t letting go any time soon, he held me tighter than ever before.

  I think our separation made us realize how much we needed one another.

  When I finally lifted my head up to look at him, he smiled. Finally being able to truly appreciate the little things about him, I realized how incessant they had been.

  His eyes were dewy with happiness, dimples like craters, and teeth lined up in a straight row. Being so close, I made a big deal of noting even more of his features, such as how there were indeed freckles faded from the sun that dotted his nose, the slight curvature of his lips that I so desperately wanted to kiss.

  And so I did.

  With passion and longing and truth and want.

  “I missed you.” I breathed once we had finished, with our foreheads pressed together.

  “I was worried about you.” he said. “So worried.”

  I nodded, “It was driving me crazy.”

  “I think that’s what they were going for.” he said sadly.

  Remembering where we were, I looked up, seeing that my brother and any other officials had departed. Something about this irked me, but I chose to ignore it while I could.

  I placed my hand on his chest and pecked him on the lips. Something about this gesture was more intimate than anything else we had ever done. It was wordlessly saying, “I’m glad that the last of my life was spent with you.”

  As if needing to confirm this, Cyrus spoke. “I can’t begin to tell you how much you mean to me, Aspen.” he said my name louder, knowing they were watching. “If I had the opportunity to change any of this, I wouldn’t. Being here with you…”

  He didn’t need to be romantic for me.

  “Sh.” I beckoned. “I know.”

  “I just never thought I could be so happy…” he trailed off, stroking my mangled hair.

  We were still intertwined with one another, and something told me we weren’t going to budge until we were pried from each other, which I had no doubt would happen.

   When the door opened again, I refused to look at first.

   It wasn’t until Cyrus acknowledged it that I did.

  “Oh my god, Aspen… I’m so sorry.”

  Whatever torment was next would be happening to him as well, so I didn’t quite understand why he was apologizing to me.

  It wasn’t until I turned around that I understood.

  In the doorway stood two men. One being my brother, and the other being my tormenter from SHQ years ago. In both their hands, were two gnarly whips.

  I cringed, not having enough willpower left in me to cry.

  I felt Cyrus’s hands tighten protectively around my arms, like he was going to save me from my certain fate.

  “No, it’s okay.” I said, gently tugging at his ever-strengthening grip. I knew that the whipping was inevitable.

  For myself and him.

  I graciously made me way across the room, and kneeled in front of my brother, as if surrendering. But he and I both knew that was not what was I was intending. I was doing the opposite, actually. I was rebelling.

  I looked up at him, making eye contact so that he could see the disappointment in my eyes, hoping he would feel some sort of remorse.

  For a second, maybe not even that, I thought I saw a flicker of penitence. But it left as soon as it had gone, and I had begun to think it was all in my head.

  “Do your worst.” I sneered, not breaking the eye contact.