Chapter 26
He opened it, stood in it and looked back to his friend.
"I understand your need to break from Ulfr, Derrik, but when that happens, know you will be missed and welcomed back should that desire return to your heart."
Derrik made no move or noise. He just held Apollo's eyes.
So be it.
Apollo moved to leave him but Derrik finally spoke.
"Take care of her."
Again, he looked directly into Derrik's eyes and when he said the words, Derrik knew him well enough to know what they were.
And what they were was a vow.
"I will."
He left it at that and moved out of the door, closing it behind him.
In the step it took him to reach his own, he pulled in a deep breath and braced.
Then he opened the door and entered the room, eyes glued to Madeleine sitting at the table, a bowl of untouched porridge in front of her.
She was wearing a very becoming dress the color of the inside of a blood orange. He had her side but he could still see the deep cowl that dropped down her chest, likely exposing skin behind it. The sleeves were knitted to fit tight at her arms and her long skirt was belled out on the floor around her chair. Her hair, as it had been yesterday, was pulled back at her nape in a satin ribbon the color of a mushroom.
Normally, she would have been a vision.
But she had one hand wrapped around a forgotten cup of coffee and her other elbow was on the table. Her head was turned to the window but her back was bowed so she could hold it in her hand.
He felt his throat begin to close at witnessing her pose of defeat.
He closed the door and when she heard it, she jumped. As he took two paces in the room, slowly, she lifted from the table and turned her gaze to him.
He halted when he saw her beautiful eyes swimming with tears.
G.o.ds, G.o.ds, he'd damaged her worse than he thought.
"Madel-" he started.
But she spoke over him.
Her voice trembling, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
That was not what he expected to hear.
"Pardon?"
"So, so sorry." She kept whispering.
"Madeleine."
She shook her head. "So, so, so, so, so sorry, Apollo."
She was sorry?
"My dove-"
"I'm selfish," she stated and he stared. "It's a weakness. Selfish and self-indulgent and thoughtless and stupid."
Not liking her words, he took a step toward her but she sat back in her chair and lifted her hand his way.
"That tea was..." she started when he stopped moving. "I don't know what it was. But you were trying to be nice. Trying to take care of me. Trying to be gentle. And I pushed it because I wanted something and..."
Suddenly, she looked away, her neck twisting so deep, he only had the back of her ear and head before she twisted back and he saw the tears chasing down her cheeks.
"As usual, I got what I wanted, d.a.m.n the consequences," she whispered brokenly and continued in her tortured voice. "Hurting you in the process."
He remained where he was, distant, as caution dictated he do in her state, and asked, "Poppy, how on earth did you hurt me?"
"I look like her." She informed him, her voice now agonized and he finally understood. "I look like her and you miss her. I threw myself at you, and first, you're a guy. What are you going to do? Turn down a sure thing?" She shook her head. "No. No way. But one who looks exactly like your-"
At that, he was done.
He moved to her, pulled
"I did not make love to my wife last night, Madeleine. I made love to you," he said there.
"Well, yes...I know. I was there, but-"
His hand tightened in her hair slightly and he lifted his head to capture her eyes.
"No buts."
She looked deep in his eyes, hers still wet, and came to a conclusion.
The wrong one.
"You're just being nice."
"Mad-"
"Like you've been nice all along."
"Maddie-"
"Since the beginning. Except that one time when you weren't nice but that was understandable."
"My dove, will you cease speaking so I can-"
"And I've been a b.i.t.c.h."
Apollo shut his mouth.
She had to let it out?
He'd allow that.
And he knew she had to let it out because she didn't stop.
"A silly, childish, selfish, thoughtless b.i.t.c.h."
Apollo said nothing.
"And that's not nice but last night was way not nice. It was cruel. I'm cruel!"
Her voice was rising but Apollo held his silence.
"I'm a silly, childish, selfish, thoughtless, cruel...b.i.t.c.h!"
Apollo remained silent and Madeleine fell into the same.
After some time, her eyeb.a.l.l.s rolled this way and that. Finally, they stuck on him.
"Um...why are you holding me in your arms?" she asked hesitantly.
"Because you were weeping and saying foolish things and I wished to comfort you and a.s.sure you that you were being foolish. However, you wouldn't be quiet and allow me to speak so I couldn't a.s.sure you that you were being foolish so that left just my holding you in an effort to comfort you."
She stared at him a moment before she queried, "You want to comfort me?"
He gave her a squeeze and answered, "Yes."
"But I'm a selfish, thoughtless, cruel b.i.t.c.h," she reminded him, and with effort he successfully fought back his chuckle.
After he accomplished that, he stated, "My dove, the more time I spend with you, the more I learn about you and the more I come to understand there's much to learn. What I have learned is that you are amusing. You are spirited. You can be charming. You can also be disagreeable. You can further be vexing. You're annoyingly very good during an argument. But that simply means you're quick-witted, which is not a bad thing, unless one finds themselves in an argument with you."
She blinked endearingly and he finished.
"What you are not is a selfish, thoughtless or cruel."
She studied him closely as if his face would tell her the veracity of his words and she must have read it wrong because her eyes again clouded.
"But, Apollo," she started softly, pain beginning to thread its way back into her voice. "I look like-"
He gave her another squeeze and dipped his face close.
His voice was threaded with steel when he declared. "Ilsa is gone, Madeleine. And you are here. You look like her, indeed. But you are not her."
"But you said looking at me felt like brands searing into your eyes."
b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, she remembered his exact words.
"And that, my dove," he whispered, "was me being selfish, thoughtless and cruel. But when I spoke those words to you, I genuinely was, and you..." He shook his head. "You had drunk adela tea and were not in control of yourself. That is not selfish, thoughtless or cruel. That is simply what was."
"Adela tea?" she inquired.
"I'll explain later," he said.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed and he nearly smiled.
There she was.
"Did you order it?" she asked.
"Valentine connives," he answered and her eyes grew huge, and at that, he did smile.
"She was here?" she queried.
"Twice," he affirmed.
"Twice?" Her voice was pitched high and he felt his smile widen.
"Twice. I'll explain that later too."
She held his eyes, the astonishment left hers and dark started seeping in again but through it she asked, her voice now almost timid. "So you don't hate me?"
He gathered her closer and whispered, "No, my poppy, I don't hate you."
The darkness receded and her body started to calm in his hold but she wasn't done with her interrogation.
"Your poppy?"
His hand still in her hair pulled the tail over her shoulder and up between their faces. Sliding his thumb and finger together through the soft strands until he captured one like he was searching for, he held it and looked back to her.
"The color of poppies," he said softly and then went on to say openly. "Ilsa did not have poppies in her hair."
The skin around her mouth grew soft and she asked, "Did she spend much time outside?"
"She was not fond of the out of doors."
"I am," she whispered, again it was shyly and this time he knew why.
She was sharing something of herself with him and she was concerned how he'd take her doing it.
He dropped her hair and wrapped both arms around her, again pulling her close.
"This pleases me," he whispered back.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her little white teeth came out to worry her lip.