Roman Flames

Chapter Twenty-Six: I Can't Leave

Chapter Twenty-Six: I Can’t Leave

Marcus

I needed a distraction. There was too much running through my head. I was reeling. I ran through the streets, wanting to see Samara. Her father was gone today. I knew as much.

When I got to her house, I knocked on the door impatiently. “Samara.”

She opened the door, and the moment she did, I swept her in, slammed the door shut, and kissed her.

“Mmph—Marcus.” She pulled away slightly. “What’s going on? You know that Father’s not home.”

“I know,” I said, my voice low. I pulled her back in and she giggled as I traced down her neck. She let out a breath when I reached the spot just below her jaw, her hand clenching on my robes.

“Marcus,” she rasped. I hesitated.

“Hm…?” I murmured. She let go of me and stepped away.

“This might seem indecent. Father isn’t home.”

I grabbed her hand, pulling her close again. “Your father trusts me.”

She sighed. “Is something wrong?”

I kissed her forehead. “Why must something be wrong for me to be here?”

She trailed her thumb down my lips. “Your heart is racing, Marcus. And you look troubled.”

“I’m fine,” I lied again. “Just ran to see you is all.”

She kissed me. “Alright then. So you’re here.”

“I am,” I said, trailing my hand down her arm. She pressed herself against me.

“What now?” she whispered.

“Well…” I had come for a distraction. She met her lips to mine again and I kissed back, trying to forget what Odoacer had told me. I deepened the kiss, curling my fingers in her hair.

“Mmph,” she protested again. She pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

I frowned. “Nothing.”

“Marcus,” she said softly. I sighed and let go of her.

“I…” I didn’t even know how to form the words. “I have to go back to Rome.”

Samara gasped, backing away. “What…?”

I ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m leaving Damascus. For good.”

Her eyes welled up. “Why?”

“Odoacer—the bank—remember that day I delivered that letter to your father? It stated that the Bank of Damascus would be expanding, and that there would be a new branch in Rome. Odoacer…he wants me to be the head of that branch.”

She sat down, wiping her eyes. “I’m happy for you, then,” she said. I went over and sat down next to her, placing my hand on her back.

“I’m not ecstatic about it either. There is a reason I left Rome.”

“But can’t you tell him no?” she begged. I shook my head.

“Odoacer has been nothing but kind to me since I came here. He has housed me and taken care of me, and he believes me to be the best candidate for the Roman branch. I cannot let him down.”

“Then can I go—”

“No,” I told her. If I were caught as a Christian, she would be in trouble too. I cleared my throat. “I cannot take you from Damascus. This is your home, and you would be unhappy in Rome.”