She turned slightly in his arms. “Everything happens for a reason.”
Maybe that was true.
Maybe not.
But he kissed her shoulder and finally,finally, she slept.
Chapter 43
The next day, the guys came back.
Of course they did.
They brought coffee and luckily, any awkwardness from the day before had melted away.
Faolan was curled in the oversized armchair again, ‘The Sparrow’ open in her lap.
Maro collapsed onto the adjacent sofa, lounging like he owned the air. “What are you reading?”
She held the book up so he could see the cover. “Sci-fi.”
“I like sci-fi,” he said mildly.
She tilted her head, considering. “I can see you as Sandoz.”
“Who is he?”
“The tortured priest guy.”
He gave a slow smirk. “Fits. At least celibacy is not a problem.”
“TMI, Maro.” She winced.
She turned the page. “He’s not just tortured, he’s thoughtful. Grieving. Completely undone by what he thought was kindness.”
Maro nodded, quiet for once. “Maybe it fits more than I like.”
There was a pause, the hum of something unsaid.
Then, softly, he asked, “Could you read something? Just a bit?”
Before she could think about how familiar it was, Faolan nodded.
The room settled. Zel sat on the windowsill, one knee up. Lirian slouched into an armchair, eyes drifting shut, but listening. And Thane… Thane perched on the arm of her chair, his thigh brushing her shoulder. Ever since the night, he was never more than an arm-length away. The morning was filled with a hand on her butt, the small of her back, being cornered against the kitchen island with his hands threading into her hair. He was more possessive than ever and eyed Maro with a hooded gaze.
She flipped to the dog-eared section and began.
“So, God just leaves?” John asked, angry where Emilio had been desolate. “Abandons creation? You’re on your own, apes. Good luck!”
“No. He watches. He rejoices. He weeps. He observes the moral drama of human life and gives meaning to it by caring passionately about it, and remembering.”
“Matthew ten, verse twenty-nine,” Vincenzo Giuliani said quietly. “‘Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it.’”
“But the sparrow still falls,” Felipe said.
Her voice trembled at the end. The line struck her every time she read it. She looked up.
Lirian’s eyes were still closed, a deep furrow between his brows. Zel was watching the light outside the window, but his hand was clenched. Maro had leaned forward, elbows on knees, his dark gaze locked on her face.
