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2
Leander
Sculptures, paintings, photographs — it didn’t matter. Bennett was a walking encyclopedia, chattering on about various artists and time periods as we moved through the museum. My own personal docent, it seemed. Though anyone who happened to be in the vicinity lingered to listen to him and his colorful explanations.
It had been that way almost the entire trip to Puerto Rico. Every historic site, every cultural highlight — he had a slew of information to pass along, his hazel eyes bright and his ringed-hands gesticulating with the dramatic flair he was so known for.
Not a single day passed that he didn’t amaze me in one way or another. The simple fact that he was there, everyday, never ceased to amaze me.
More than once I’d woken from the throes of yet another nightmare to see him right next to me. Even if I could never bring myself to tell him why there were days I couldn’t eat, why sleep was so fleeting, the fact he wastheremeant more than I could ever fully articulate.
I treasured the levity he brought to my waking hours as much as the quiet comfort he provided every night through his mere presence alone.
“—and supposedly that’s why he chose photography over…” Bennett cocked his head as we strolled through the gallery, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Are you ok? You’ve hardly spoken since breakfast.”
“How many times have you been here?” I asked, stopping when he did, my hands clasped behind my back.
“Here? As in, the museum?”
“I meant Puerto Rico, but sure. The museum.”
He furrowed his brows at me, the corner of his mouth ticking up into an amused smirk. “This is my first time. Why?”
“Then how can you possibly know all of this? Venice was one thing, but here?”
He laughed quietly and took a step closer so we were nearly chest-to-chest. Licking his lips, he inclined his head slightly, his voice low. “The answer is quite scandalous... Are you sure you really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.” I met his wry grin with a smirk of my own. “Besides, I’m no stranger to scandal, Mr. Reeve. Unless you’ve already forgotten I stood accused of murder not that long ago.”
Shifting forward, he circled behind me, dragging his fingers from one shoulder to the other, across my back. “I can’t forget anything when it comes to you, which is why I’ll tell you my secret, my love, even though the ramifications will be costly.” He leaned in again, on the other side from where he started, and skimmed his lips across my jaw. “I read a guidebook at the airport.”
Mouth agape, I gasped in outrage that wasn’t entirely faked. He laughed and slipped his hands around my waist, pulling me close to nuzzle my neck. “You had a guidebook and you didn’t let me read it? How could you? Of all the loathsome things...”
“I wanted to spend this time withyou— not youanda book. Sue me.” He snickered at his own lawyer joke.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough of looking at art.” I pulled out of his arms and started toward the exit. “We’re going to a bookstorerightnow.”
“Whatever you want, my love.”
We made our way out of the museum and after Bennett ascertained the location of the nearest bookstore, we were off. The way Spanish rolled off his tongue was just as mesmerizing as the Italian he spoke, or the French. Even Latin.
Hewas mesmerizing. I could spend hours watching him, and I did. For the past three weeks, I’d been by his side every waking moment, making up for the years we’d already lost due to time, circumstances, and stupidity. I certainly wasn’t about to waste any more.
Watching Bennett bask in sunlight on the beach, study the Spanish colonial architecture in town, or charm the old women in the marketplace were all things I observed from afar and locked away in my memories. My hope was that if I collected enough of them, they’d eventually replace the evil that lurked in the corners of my mind. During the day, it worked. Nighttime was when I lost control.
The horrific dreams were a constant, needling reminder that my family’s curse was still there, waiting to claim its next victim. I felt the weight of it daily, doubly burdened by the knowledge that I had responsibilities at home requiring my attention. My company, for starters, demanded I return at some point before it fell into complete ruin. The terms of my grandmother’s exacting trust also ensured I eventually had to go back to Easton or I’d forfeit everything.
Then there was Lorelei.
I had neither seen nor spoken to her the whole time we’d been gone. It wasn’t entirely by choice. In our —my— spur of the moment decision to be completely selfish and run away, Bennett and I left our cell phones behind. To truly escape from the demands in both our lives, we had to be unreachable.
And it worked.
In the rare moments I wasn’t thinking about reality, things were perfect. It was just Bennett and I, together, unstoppable — the way it should have always been from the beginning.
But, Lorelei cast a shadow over our summer escape.
Bennett must have felt it too. He asked about her, on occasion, a thread of hostility woven through every word, however innocent. Thus far I’d been mostly successful in deflecting the questions, but I knew I couldn’t hold him off forever. Soon, he’d stop asking and would simply demand answers. But answers might chase him away and that was the very last thing I wanted now that I had him back. So I avoided anything that could remotely bring her up in conversation and when she haunted my dreams, I lied to the love of my life and told him it was nothing. Because itwasnothing.Shewas nothing. She’d been something — or the possibility of something — once before, but none of that mattered compared to what I had with Bennett. As much as I’d wanted her to fill the void he left behind, it was impossible. No one could replace him. No one could even come close.
