She was his cousin’s love, but she had been his wife. And dammit, he loved her. He lost her too soon, even by normal standards. They should have had another twenty or thirty years together, at least. She died so young.
He pushed his guilty conscience aside and spent the night loving her, wishing he could run his hands over her body in real life and not just in her mind. It was still good, like this, but he longed to smell her, bury his face in her still-damp hair, and really taste her.
He didn’t need sleep, but she did. Around midnight he talked her into rolling over and letting him draw her into a peaceful slumber, the first truly good sleep she’d had since he died. She curled around Matthias’ pillow, while in her mind she was cradled in Rafael’s arms.
As promised, Matthias returned late three days later. Even though Taz was still awake, she rolled over on her side when she heard his footsteps in the hall, pretended to be asleep when he opened the bedroom door. With closed eyes she opened her mind and tracked his progress—quietly putting his bag in the corner to unpack later, going into the bathroom, and gently closing the door before turning on the light and undressing. Then he turned off the light and came to bed, standing next to it for a moment and looking at her before slowly sliding under the covers.
He didn’t try to touch her. He rolled onto his side, facing away from her on his side of the bed. In five minutes, he was asleep.
She let her tears fall. She didn’t know how to reach out to him, encased by her self-constructed wall. Afraid to hurt him, afraid the secrets she already held would break his heart.
Maybe the kindest thing would be to let him go. The thought of that broke her heart. She loved him. Somehow, she would figure this out. If it was nearly any other problem, she would turn to her dad or Albert, even Tobias, but knew they would immediately tell Matthias if she confided this.
Taz hoped Matthias would wait for her to figure out what to do.
Matthias was still asleep the next morning when she awoke at four thirty. She grabbed her workout bag, changed in the downstairs bathroom, and waited until she pulled onto Tarpon Springs Road to turn on the radio, the subwoofer throbbing. Rafael took over for the rest of the drive. She spent over an hour in the gym and was already showered and working by seven thirty when Matthias stopped in her office doorway.
“Good morning.”
She looked up, smiled, and turned back to the file. “Good morning, Matthias.”
He stepped inside and closed the door. She didn’t look up, fighting her nervous agitation. He wanted to talk.
He pulled one of the chairs close to her desk and sat, not saying anything, not probing. After ten minutes, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“What?”
“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of our lives?”
“I have a lot of work to do.”
“Life isn’t just work, Taz. You’re using it as an excuse to avoid me. What did I do to piss you off?”
She closed her eyes. “I’m not mad at you, Matthias.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
Because your dead cousin, who I love, is now living inside my skull and I make love to him in my mind. “I’m not ignoring you.”
“You were awake last night when I got home.”
She swallowed. “Then why didn’t you say something?”
“I figured if you wanted to talk to me, or wanted me to talk to you, you would have said something and not lain there pretending to be asleep.”
She looked down again, trying to avoid his eyes.
“Taz, please. Talk to me.”
It took every ounce of will in her body not to give in to his heartbroken voice. “Matthias, I have a lot of work to do. I’m not mad at you. I’m trying to settle into a routine, that’s all. It’s been a rough couple of months, and I’m still trying to come to terms with everything.”
She saw his thoughts. He believed this was because of the executions. “I knew I never should have agreed to let you—”
“Matthias! What I do or don’t do as a member of the Tribunal, frankly, doesn’t concern you.”
He studied her, sensing her newfound strength. He nodded. His voice sounded quiet when he spoke. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He stood and walked to the door.
She felt horrible. God, just rack ’em up, Taz. The big List O’ Guilt gets longer by the minute. “Matthias, I’m—”
He held up his hand, turned. “Anastazia, I love you. I know it’s my fault this all came down on you. Maybe not directly, but if I had been more patient, waited longer to bring you in, maybe things would have been different. Please know that when you’re ready to let me back in, I’m here. I won’t force you. I know you need time and space, and I already told you, I’m willing to give it to you.”
He gently closed the door behind him.
Taz always drove Rafe’s Mustang. Her new routine consisted of leaving before Matthias was awake, working out in the gym for an hour, then putting in twelve to fourteen hours in her office. Even on weekends. Then returning home late, frequently after eleven. Sometimes Matthias was home, sometimes he wasn’t. He took several business trips. Tobias, Albert, and her dad left her alone, watching her out of the corner of their eyes when they stumbled across her in passing.
She wasn’t talking to anyone. Even Murry avoided her, and she took care to close her office door when she expected to talk to Rafael, not sure how much the familiar could sense and not wanting him to tip anyone off.
She spent her nights curled in bed, eyes closed, in her mental room with Rafael, her head in his lap. Sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting there, feeling his hand on her shoulder.
Sometimes making love, but only on the nights Matthias wasn’t home.
She found herself looking forward to evenings with Rafe, their talks during her drive. She took the long way every day, even though it added at least a half hour to her drive each way. It was time she could spend talking to Rafael out loud, without worries anyone would catch her doing it. It was even better when Rafael drove, leaving her free to talk with him, explore the parts of his mind he willingly opened to her.
In bed, Matthias didn’t try to touch her, waiting for her to make the first move. She tried to time her arrivals and departures so he was asleep or not home, and she feigned sleep if he came in at night while she was there. On the one hand, she ached for his touch. On the other, she didn’t know how to make love to him, or even let him touch her, and completely maintain the barrier in her mind around Rafe’s presence.
Especially after what she’d been doing with Rafe.
She sensed Matthias’ loneliness, caught him watching her at work or at home, but still made no move. One evening he was reading in bed and she went downstairs with the excuse of getting a snack, then curled up on the sofa and fell asleep while talking with Rafe. When she awoke several hours later, someone had placed a blanket over her. Who, she didn’t know.
She didn’t ask.
Six weeks after the funeral, Rafe brought up the radio.
“When are we going to take the ’65 to work? I love that car.”
“The radio.” She didn’t want to drive it unless she could hook the MP3 player into it.
“Let’s hook it up.”
“I don’t know how.”
“I did Matts’ Mustang. You can do this. It’s easy.”