Here's to Us (Blood Money #2)

Chapter 25 - Artful Seduction

Silas's cries had ceased when I stood at the threshold with my heart in my throat. He was asleep, his head lying on the mahogany of his desk, his hand lolling from the edge.

I couldn't understand this anymore. His eyes were closed from what I could see from here. I told myself for some comfort that he was asleep and it was his nightmare that had him groaning like that.

With panic rising in my mind like boiling milk threatening to overflow, I stepped forward, my hands shaking. I wondered if, in a moment, I would scream.

His study was dimly lit by the Victorian lamp, giving the room thousands of shadows. The veins in his forearms looked dark contrast to his skin. There was no sign of paleness and it soothed me down a little. I wanted to speak out loud, call my husband's name. The thought of him never responding terrified me.

And then he stirred, fortunately, murmuring, "Grave."

"Silas," I summoned him gently.

"You're dead."

Right at this moment, I finally understood that I was terror-stricken indeed.

"Come on baby," I continued to coax him awake.

"Don't. I would never..." His voice broke into a series of whimpers until they turned into full-blown cries. He thrust a hand into the half-empty tumbler glass, the content inside spilling all over the desk. The file he had tucked under his head fell down on the floor, papers flying everywhere.

I held his arms now, shaking him, calling his name until finally, his eyes flew open. The green in them startled me as though I had never seen such vibrant color before. He blinked twice, his bewilderment visible in his pale face. My eyes darted down to his nose and squinted when the tip of it turned nearly red within seconds.

He was going to cry.

I could handle that. I had seen him cry before once when I had locked myself in the bathroom and labeled him as a murderer. Remorse rose within me, followed by fear. Silas's upcoming tears over only a nightmare baffled me. He had woken up to nightmares before too but never crying or maybe wanting to cry.

Tears had finally escaped the barriers when he gasped for air. His breath echoed in my head as he whimpered, "Dawn."

With that, he buried his face in my belly, his arms holding onto me for dear life.

"What is it, baby?" I tightened my arms around him, concern brimming inside.

He couldn't answer my question. All he could do was shudder and shake with heaving sobs coming out of his throat. He tried to speak but only incoherent words came out. His tears soaked my robe slightly, causing me to push him back and see. He looked up with puffy eyes and tears-glistening skin.

"What is it, Silas?" I kneeled down, facing him now.

"A.. uh, dream."

"Yes?"

"But it was so..." He looked as if he was going to cry again. "So bad. I killed dad. I killed my dad, Dawn."

Now, he sobbed with his trembling body. 

"It's okay. Just a nightmare." I kissed the top of his head and pushed the sweaty hair out of his forehead, my fingers tugging at his curls lightly. The smell of alcohol on his breath wafted towards me, unwanted.

Finally, when he paused moving back and forth in my arms, I reached out to fix the tumbler glass, He watched me patiently like a child waiting for his mother to finish working so that she could recite bed-time stories. Wiping the desk clean, I threw the tissues in the wastebasket.