Chapter 109 BLOODY ARRIVAL
WILLA'S POV
The twins barely ate their dinner, just poking and pushing their food around their plates. Their appetite was as squashed as their precious little hearts.
And seeing the sag of their shoulders and the evident dimness in their gazes, I didn't have the heart to truly scold them for playing with their food. I told them, of course. But not as firmly as I would usually do so.
Even their movements when they went up and did their night routine were too sluggish with evident sadness. There were also no words exchanged between them.
The air was just so delicate that when I talked, my voice was kept in a low and gentle volume as if any louder would snap the last vestiges that were barely holding on to the pieces of their shattered hearts.
I ran my hand through Calisto's hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. I did the same to Gillian before making a beeline to the door.
But just as I was about to make my exit, I turned around and said, "I love you both. So, so, so much. Alright? Don't forget that, my loves. Mommy is and will always be here. I love you, Cal. I love you, Gil."
Neither of them said anything back. Gillian just hummed, and Callisto nodded his head almost imperceptibly. But then in the dimness of the room, illuminated only by the yellowish light of the lamp, their eyes were glistening with the tears they were trying so hard to keep at bay.
The sight alone made my throat feel tight, and my own eyes welled up with tears too.
"Oh, my sweethearts..."
I rushed back to their sides, kneeling on the floor between their beds and held their hands.
"How could Daddy break his promise?" Calisto asked quietly, gripping my hand as tightly as his little fingers could.
"Maybe, maybe something came up or..."
"He always does this," Gillian cut in angrily as she glared at the ceiling. "He doesn't... He doesn't come back. He doesn't keep his promise. He always, always makes us sad."
"Hey," I said gently. "That's not true. He did come back last time, didn't he? He was late, but he still came back. For you. For us. Maybe he's just late again this time."
Gillian didn't say anything as she harshly rubbed her eyes with her forearm.
"Mommy, can we sleep beside you tonight?" Calisto asked, breaking the silence before it could fully settle around them.
"Of course."
So we moved to my room, the very same one I had shared with Gallahan for a few months already. His scent still lingered all over, albeit a whole lot fainter now.
I settled between the twins, letting them cling to me as tightly as they desired while I soothingly ran my palms on their backs. Gradually, slumber took claim over them, and I slowly slipped out from their loosened embrace.
Then, as quietly as I could, I left the room and headed down to the kitchen to clean up the dirty dishes I had left in the sink earlier just so I could keep the twins company.
I let the mundane task distract me, willing my entire attention to focus on just washing, scrubbing and rinsing the plates and cutleries. But then the task was done too soon for my liking, leaving me all alone with my thoughts and disappointment.
I sat on the couch, exhausted by the events of the day, or the lack thereof. But the exhaustion, despite being heavy on my bones, was more emotional and mental than anything else.
So with no one to share my misery, I nursed my battered mind and heart in the quietness of the living room as I absent-mindedly let my fingers trace random patterns on Gillian's bag.
Meanwhile, anger, pain, worry and confusion whirled together AND warred against each other within me.
I wanted to understand Gallahan. I tried to think of reasons why he had failed to keep his promise.
A part of me was concerned for his well-being. After all, he left while he was still trying to recover from the rogue wolves' blood he had ingested. What if he had some complications? What if he was unable to make a full recovery?
But then I couldn't, for the life of me, ignore the fact neither Gallahan, Zuleika nor Maliya had bothered to update me in the past two weeks. If something had happened, surely one of them had reached out to inform me.
And for fuck's sake! It was as if Gallahan had not learned from when he left after our nesting and returned only after weeks! He still couldn't be bothered to send a word!
And this day really seemed to be a repeat of what happened back then. And I was actually beginning to fear that this might be a recurring pattern with him.
"Fuck," I cursed, letting my head loll back until it hit the couch's backrest.
"Fuck him," I said, my voice carrying a whole lot of vitriol. Because the more I thought about his actions, the angrier I got.
How hard was it to inform us that the plan he had made would be cancelled? That he couldn't make it.
The image of the twins with teary eyes and sadly sagged shoulders fueled my anger even further.
Oh, Gallahan would have a piece of my mind if he ever dared to show his face to me.
Just then, a series of hard knocks brought me out of my thoughts, and then the front door swung open, revealing Gallahan who looked like he had just gone to bloody war.
His olive green long-sleeved shirt was torn and singed in some places. An ugly bruise took residence on his right cheekbone, and there was an alarmingly long gash on his left cheek. His lower lip was slightly busted, and there was a minor gash lining the right side of his chin. He was also holding his midriff as if it was in pain.
The very sight of him sent me to my feet, and my mouth hung ajar in shock.
"Hi," he greeted weakly with a barely there smile as he slightly swayed. But he was able to regain a semblance of balance by leaning heavily on the door jamb. "I'm sorry, Willa. I'm sorry I'm late."