Chapter 47
[Cordelia]
+25 BONUS
Someone is holding my hand.
Opening my eyes just a crack, I see Atlas‘ blond hair glowing in the nearby lamplight. He looks softer than he usually does with his hair askew and his shirt unbuttoned with cuffs rolled up to his elbows. He is always so crisply dressed, so cold and distant in the way he presents himself to the world–especially to me. Yet at this moment as he sits here holding my hand he looks soft, gentle, and warm.
I gasp, my chest pounding as I moan in agony. My entire body feels abused and tender.
“Cordelia,” he whispers, hearing me gasp, sitting up a bit straighter. “You’re awake.”
“Atlas,” I try to sit, but cry out in pain.
“Cordelia!” He grabs a pillow and rushes to my side, “Let me help you.”
I shy away from him and his face falls and his eyes grow sad. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. “I just…please, just let me take care of you.”
“I don’t know if I should,” I reply honestly, holding myself away from him.
“I guess I deserve that,” he admits as he gently places the pillow along my back to support me. “I have been…unfair to you. Cordelia.”
“Atlas, you don’t need…”
“Let me finish,” he begs as he looks into my eyes, his blue eyes intensely wavering. “I let my hurt and pain over our shared past, about Angelica and,” he swallows, choking over the name of my sister, “I let that cloud my judgment. I should have given you more attention. I should have tried to get to know you better so that when someone came and tried to get between us I could have seen her for the snake that she is.”
My jaw drops. Is he talking about Sydney?
“I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I didn’t know…….” He looks away, shamefaced. “I should have listened to you. About Sydney, about the wine, about everything.”
“What changed, Atlas?” I ask “Where did all of this come from?”
I listen as Atlas elaborates, explaining in detail all of the things he had learned about Sydney and her plans to tear us apart, including drugging the wine that led to that one unforgettable night.
He tells me about everything she confessed as well–about the kidnappers, framing me for crimes I didn’t commit, all of the blame and guilt she dropped at my feet every time she lied about who or why we were fighting. I had known Sydney was bad news, but Atlas seemed to have a blind spot where she was concerned. Or at least he used to. Now when he speaks about her, there is a cruel bitterness to his words. Her actions finally crossed a line for him.
“Tonight,” he squeezes my hand tentatively, as if afraid might break. “Tonight she had planned to hurt
you
in an unforgivable way. I was able to stop her from succeeding but,” he pauses as if unsure of how to proceed.
“What is it, Atlas?” I lean forward, placing my other arm on his arm.
What haven’t you told me yet?”
+25 BONUS
“I’m guessing you must already know,” I try to smile, but it wilts on my lips before forming fully. “I’m pregnant, Atlas,” I admit. “I have wanted to tell you so many times before but I thought that you would…”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele