Page 64 of Marked By His Touch
I watch as my Sarah, a vision in a new, vibrant Hindi outfit and her red lipstick, turns to leave. The soft glow of the hallway lamp casts a warm light on her face, highlighting the faint lines of exhaustion around her eyes.
Harvey and Tyler have just left and are shuffling in the rain outside.
“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this,” I say. “I never wanted you to be a part of it.”
My heart aches for Sarah. She’s been through so much, and she’s still standing. She’s so strong, so resilient.
Sarah gives me a wry smile, her eyes, though rimmed with fatigue, flashing with a familiar glint of mischief. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s not like I’m a stranger to chaos.”
She winks a playful gesture that does little to dispel the underlying sadness I see in her eyes.She’s hiding it.She’s trying to be strong.
But I see it. I see the pain behind the mask.
“Gilbert will be okay,” I say, hoping to ease her worry. “Harvey talked to the Doctors. He’s going to make a full recovery.”
Sarah nods, her smile a bit wobbly. “Yeah, I’m on my way to see him now.” She turns to leave.
I reach out, my hand instinctively seeking hers. I pull her close, embracing her in a hug. We stand there, a silent understanding passing between us, our shared pain a bond that transcends words. Tears well up in my eyes, a bittersweet release of the tension that has gripped me for so long.
I wish I could take away her pain, her fear, her sorrow.But all I can do is be here for her.
“You’re going with Harvey and Tyler, right? In their car?” I ask, my voice choked.
The used car, a deliberate downgrade from Tyler’s usual luxury, was an attempt to live a simpler, less extravagant life. For a moment, I feel a pang of embarrassment for thinking otherwise, for assuming Tyler and his new girlfriend were in financial trouble.
It feels strange to see Sarah leaving. She’s been staying here these past few weeks, helping me recover.
Sarah nods, a watery smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, they’ll take me to the hospital.”
I close the door slowly, the heavy thud and click of the lock a comforting sound. I turn and walk back into the living room. The crackling fire in the hearth casts dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the plush velvet furniture and the antique Persian rug beneath my feet.
My gaze drifts to the large windows, looking out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. I’m overwhelmed by a sense of relief, a sense of gratitude.We’ve escaped. We’ve survived.
Alexander sits in a plush armchair by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames, his hand rubbing his beard thoughtfully. The heatof the fire warms my face as I slump onto the couch. The worn leather cushions sink under my weight. The memory of the fight, of the violence, of the fear still clings to me. But it’s further away now, like a bad dream fading into the darkness day by day.
“That was—intense,” I say. “I’m not used to visitors other than Sarah.”
Alexander nods, his expression unreadable. The firelight dances in his eyes, reflecting a kaleidoscope of emotions—relief, exhaustion, a lingering sense of loss. He looks up, his gaze meeting mine, and I see the love but also the shadow of pain reflected in their depths.He’s carrying so much. He’s been through so much.
“At least Katerina is put away for good, and the women are okay,” Alexander says. “They’ll be integrated into society slowly, offered simple jobs. They’ll have a chance to start over, Harvey said.”
I nod, “yes, the police did good.”
He stares into the fire, his gaze distant, as if lost in his thoughts. “And Harvey will retire, he told me so,” he adds.
The soft music, Beethoven, is playing in the background.Did he put it on for me?
“He deserves it, retirement. And Tyler’s girlfriend will take on his job. Who knew she was a police officer?” I scoff, a smile playing on my lips.The world is full of surprises, and the truth is often stranger than fiction.
“Mmmhh,” Alexander says. “I wouldn’t mind a little rest myself.”
He’s thinking about the future. He’s thinking about what comes next.
“And Nikolai?” I say. “I forgot to ask—well, to be honest, I didn’t want to ask.” I still can’t believe it’s over sometimes that this nightmare is finally behind us. But a part of me is still afraid, haunted by the memory of his cold gaze and his cruel smile.
“Harvey said he’s declared dead. They haven’t found his body, but there is no way he could have survived such a fall.”
I sigh, letting my shoulders relax for the first time in what feels like forever. The weight of the past few weeks, the fear, the danger, the chaos—it all seems to fade away.
