Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
I pursed my lips together.
Baba tilted her head to the side. “Do you truly understand that?”
Before I could answer, Kaz’s deep voice sounded from the couch. “Do you. . .truly understand, mysh?”
Shocked, I moved my view to him.
He’s up. How much did he hear?
My bottom lip quivered.
Slowly, Kaz began to shed the blanket from his form, casting it aside as if shedding a second skin.
Baba and I remained silent.
Rising from the couch, Kaz’s movements mirrored that of a ferocious lion awakening from its slumber—each muscle uncoiling with a predator’s grace. His large, formidable body stretched and expanded, filling the space around us. The sinews in his arms and the contours of his chest became more pronounced.
With every inch he gained in height, the air shifted more.
And through it all, his gaze remained fixed on the painting next to me. It was as if my artwork had cast a spell, drawing him in with an invisible tether.
He sees them. . .all of them. . .
I felt naked.
So utterly exposed.
I wanted to go somewhere and hide.
Baba smiled, yet a tear fell from her eye. She wiped it away and headed toward the bedrooms. “I will go check on Paolo. He gets up around this time.”
Kaz continued to the canvas and slowly began to take each person in.
And I stood there, trying to steady my nerves for the conversation ahead.
Chapter twenty-six
Meet the Alters
Emily
Kaz stopped right in front of the painting—this visual embodiment of my fractured soul.
I held my breath.
What does he think?
Forcing myself to exhale, I inched back to the window and twisted my fingers in one hand.
I knew he was judging it with a critical eye, and my heart pounded with nervousness.
Say something, baby. Please. . .
I watched the play of emotions across his face with bated breath.
Every stroke on the canvas was a piece of my confused mind, each color a whisper of my fears.
His gaze moved from one personality to the next, and I could see the dawning of realization, the awakening to my inner world’s chaos.
Oh God. This is excruciating.
My pulse picked up.
Shock hit his features first, like the initial cold plunge into an unknown sea, eyes widening as they took in Lunita’s fierce gaze, the innocent clutch of the little girl to her lion, and M’s brooding presence.
Jesus Christ.
I wanted to hide my face.
His expression twisted in hazy stupor as if he were seeing me for the first time again, peeling back layer upon layer to reveal the raw and unvarnished truths I’d hidden even from myself.
I know, baby. . .I know.
On his face, fear followed, a shadow flitting across that chiseled jawline and tightening the corners of his eyes.
Tension gathered in my shoulders.
Was it fear of the unknown depths within me?
Was it fear for us?
For Emilio and Paolo?
Or was he just scared to love me?
Here I was, laid bare in pigments and brush strokes, a mosaic of identities that defied conventional understanding.
Could love truly bridge the gap?
He said he loved me no matter what, but that was in the car with me half naked.
Now it was all in front of him—strangers staring.
I shivered.
Sadness crept in next, softening his features.
The Lion didn’t get sad much, and when he did, it usually had something to do with me or someone had died that he truly cared about.
But there it was. . .sadness.
Filling up his eyes.
Lining the sides of his cheeks.
My heart ached at the sight.
I looked back at the painting.
Did he see what I tried to hide?
The pain.
The trauma.
The disgusting things that had birthed each alter.
I could see it. Maybe he can. . .
Horrified, I put my view back on him.
A flicker of something indescribable passed on his face.
I blinked, not knowing what emotion it was.
Was it hope or despair?
Love or fear?
He took one step back, then another, and really studied it.
The silence stretched between us,
My fingers trembled as I twisted them.
Kaz’s next words would either be a balm to my frayed edges or the strike that would unravel me completely.
He raised his hand and pointed to Lunita. “Is that who I think it is?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
He curved his lips into a smile. “Lunita.”
I didn’t like the way he said her name as if he was fond of her, as if he was happy to see her face.
Then, he nodded to himself as if finally understanding the whole picture.
Eventually, his gaze met mine, and this thick silent tension hung thick between us, like a fog that couldn’t be cut through with any sort of knife. His eyes searched mine as if he was looking for an answer—an answer I wasn’t sure I had myself.
Don’t look at me that way. . .
I gazed at the floor.
With each passing second, the silence grew louder, more intense.
Kaz finally broke the quiet. “They are all you.”
His words hit me like a wave of cold water.