Basil
"Love?" Tatiana asked softly as she trace patterns in the sand, her attention was lost in the horizon.
"Hmm?" I hummed along with the water waves breaking on the shore.
"What if we just leave the country?" Tatiana stopped following the patterns to look up and directly meet my gaze.
The vastness of the ocean stretched out before our eyes, its like a life without boundaries, a place where anyone could simply exist, away from prying eyes and judgments, like a promise of life I thought we are going to have. The sun was already below the skyline, casting a warm, golden light over everything. The waves that reached the sand seemed to copy the situation we are currently into—pushed and dragged by uncontrollable forces. The boundless sea understood the reason for our escape, it gave us a freedom and haven from the world that had tried to tear us apart with harsh truths and unforgiving judgments.
"Your idea sounds great, but," I paused and decided to look away. I wanted to agree, to say yes, and to start somewhere fresh, but I knew this has to end here. "You know we can't."
"What do you mean?" She asked with a trembling voice.
"I love you and I'm sorry." My heart is pounding as I gently place both of my hands on her cheek and went for a one last kiss.
"You're giving up already?"
"We have to, Tatiana. I know you will be happy even without me." I took a step back, breaking the vital connection, yet impossibly fragile. "Let's end this here, I can't let you live in vain. You deserve better." My fingers glide against her engagement ring, slowly removing it from her skin.
"Basil, please..." Just as she was about to fall to the ground, her parents rushed to her side, their faces imprinted with concern and resolve. "No! Please, don't do this!" The peaceful rhythm of the sea was broken by her sorrow. My heart sank as I witness her soul being torn out with helplessness and heartbreak. She was fighting against their hold, her tears streaming down her face, her breaths coming in violently with irregular gasps as her parents tightened their hold, grabbing her farther away from my view.
The last echoes of Tatiana's presence faded, the silence of the beach weighing me down like a mass I could hardly lift. I glanced down at the engagement ring on my hand, the lightness of the platinum now felt heavier than seeing it on Tatiana's finger. I fall down to my knees, dig my hands into the sand, moving out a small hole in the ground. With one last, look, I placed the ring into the hollow—buried and hidden from anyone. Slowly, I covered it with sand, pressing it down softly, sealing away a part of my heart along with it.
We had been together for five years, sharing dreams and planning for a future that appeared within our reach. Even after a month of engagement, our families celebrated our happiness. However, when Tatiana's family began to look into their family history in an attempt to find her missing grandfather, everything changed. Our relationship was destroyed by what they discovered.
Turns out Tatiana's mother, Claudia, was my distant cousin, which meant Tatiana... was my niece.
The discovery broke through the foundations we had laid like a storm. The loved ones who had formerly cheered us on and supported us with pride now pulled back in disbelief. Their happiness for us, their approval—all of that was overshadowed in a moment by the weight of our genetic ties. All of the things we had spent so many years together were suddenly gone and left in pieces.
"I wonder who will accompany Amara to her wedding gown's final fitting?" Mother asked, stabbing her bacon with a fork. "Claudia probably won't go with her. What if I come instead?" Her gaze drifted into the distance as she think about her own idea.
"Don't worry about her, Mom. I'm sure someone will be there to help. It's not even a real love kind of marriage—rather an imposed arrangement." I answered, somewhat annoyed by her enthusiasm for Amara, which stood in contrasting position to her more silent behavior towards Tatiana, the woman I had truly loved. Her eagerness in accepting this arrange marriage, as though she had already forgotten about Tatiana, was making me uncomfortable.
"Oh, hush! It's normal to feel that way at first, but soon enough, I believe you'll fall for her remarkable appearance. Always remember, mother knows best!" She chuckled softly despite my irritated response, while father on the center at the end of the table smiled as he shook his head, amused by the tension between his wife and his son.
The first time I saw Amara, she was only seven—a quiet, socially isolated child who seemed like an outcast even in her own home. She was Mr. Hawthorne's daughter from another woman, who had abandoned her at their doorstep, leaving only a birth certificate and a short note. I often felt a pang of pity for Amara, watching how Claudia treated her with uninterested approach, and how Tatiana ignored her, never inviting her to play or join in. When Amara turned eighteen and I was twenty-six, both families decided to arrange a marriage between us, hoping it would keep Tatiana and me from seeing each other secretly. But, Amara wanted no part of it and rejected the arrangement year after year. That changed when she turned twenty-two and became entangled in a scandal involving her friend Alistair, who had been distributing and using drugs at his club. I knew Amara wasn't involved in that, despite her stubborn behavior, but the pressure drove her to accept the marriage. I argued with my parents about it, not wanting to go through with the deal. My father, however, threatened to renounce my inheritance and send me abroad. I knew if that happened, I will lose the title of my pride and I'd be kept away from Tatiana. Marrying Amara was just a formality on paper; at least this way, I could catch a glimpse of Tatiana when I am around her.
The soft chime of my phone buzzed through the dinning area making everyone inside shift their gaze on my side—It was Tatiana, her name flashed on the notifications. I wiped the corners of my lips before pushing my chair back to rise.
"I'm done, excuse me." I said, leaving my parents who continued with their meal.
Their conversation faded as I moved into the garden just behind the dining room. I looked at the notifications on my phone and hesitated for a second, my fingers resting just above it as I resisted the need to ignore it. However, I had no choice but to tap the notification simply because of an irresistible magnetic pull, and as I prepared myself for her next words, the message appeared in front of me.
Tatiana: Love, can you come and get me? I'm at my cousin's party, it's getting wild here... boys won't leave me alone.
I stared at my phone, re-reading her message, my eyebrows met and my forehead wrinkled. My first thought was just to ignore it—after all maybe she's just exaggerating. But, the image of her surrounded by strangers made a tight knot of worry settle in my chest.
Basil: Where are you?
Tatiana: I'm at Elysium right now.
Basil: Alright, just stay where you are and
wait for me.
Tatiana: Ride safe.
I can't deny Tatiana's hold on me, even if we had previously broken up. We couldn't simply stop seeing each other. I can't help but come whenever she asks me to, regardless of the time or situation. Every time, I would approach her without giving it a second thought, pulled by an unexplainable or unavoidable force. I was always drawn in by Tatiana's alluring wishes, and I would comply with her calls without question.
I went back inside the house to grab the keys of my car. As soon as I set my foot outside, I felt anxious when I finally entered my vehicle, it was like a competition against the speed of my mind. I admit that I still love Tatiana, but something has changed ever since I discovered she's my niece. I just couldn't understand why I always felt the need to exert extra effort for someone who seemed to try my patience all the time. However, finding out that her usual confidence was replaced by discomfort, made me accelerate my car even more.
When I finally reached the club, I shifted my car's gear to park, locking its transmission into place to stop the wheels from moving. I stepped outside and the bouncers nod at me, a sign that I am already familiar to them. The atmosphere of the club was an exciting combination of energy, music, and heat. Over the crowd, dim, colorful lights danced and flashed, turning everyone into neon green, electric blue, and deep red. The aroma of alcohol and a slight trace of smoke affected the air, creating a cloud that seemed to soften the room's boundaries. The floor boomed with heavy bass beats that vibrated in tune with the crowd's movements, creating a smooth wave of people locked in time. Shouts and laughter echoes through the room, broken and distorted, above the music. The environment was constantly singing as the bartenders worked swiftly, clinking bottles and pouring shots.
I made my way through the crowd and spotted Tatiana, leaning against the bar alone looking unsteady and lost—There was no one bothering her, no unwanted company. With several steps I reached to her and stood in front to catch her attention. She pulled herself up with a faint smile on her lips despite being in daze.
"Basil!" She stumbled, her voice was mixed with surprise and unexpected happiness.
"Are you okay? Where are they?" I asked, settling beside her and scanning the room for any sign of the guys she mentioned in her texts.
"I know you wouldn't come if I wasn't in danger." I frowned, realizing that her message was extended by the alcohol
"You wasted my time." I was about to stand and leave her when my gaze landed on a sight that rooted me to the ground. What the hell is she doing here? Isn't she supposed to be fitting her gown? Standing on top of a neighboring table was Amara, moving unreserved attracting attention from all over the room with each elegant turn and sway of her hips. She was laughing, her head thrown back, cleavage flowing above her red tube dress, eyes flickering under the lights as she move to the rhythm.
A sea of guys circled around her, staring at her, fascinated by her mesmerizing charm. As I watched her effortlessly capture the attention of the room, I suddenly experienced a wave of conflicting feelings, part annoyance, part something I was having trouble putting my finger on. It was both captivating and frustrating because of her boldness, her careless attitude, and the way she appeared to live in her own world. I gritted my jaw and shook myself out of it, determined to get her off that table and out of those lustful eyes. This was not my first time to see her like that, but it was rare to catch her in this state—alive and unapologetic, a part of her existence that disregard her cold demeanor.
"Love," Tatiana snapped me off from my thoughts, reminding me that I am here for her not for anyone else. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She said placing her head on my shoulder.
"You're just sleepy, let's get you out of here." I snaked my arms around her shoulders guiding her carefully out of the chaos towards my car. I helped her settle in the back seat before closing the door. Pausing for a moment, I glanced back, my jaw tightened. I can't leave without her, I need to get back to Amara—not when she's drawing too much attention to herself. I headed back to the club quickly, pushing through the throng of people. Amara was still on the table with a flushed cheek, swaying her body unrestrained.
"Amara!" I called in a firm tone, I caught her attention but she only chuckled, bending down to brush her fingers against my jaw. Her unexpected electrifying touch sent shivers down my spine.
"Yes, hubby?" She smiled, creeping me out with the name she called me leading me to stop her by grabbing her waist with a gentle and steady strength.
"Let's go home." Without hesitation, I lifted her down from the table. The men who had just been admiring her earlier started to scatter, their curiosity faded as I intervened, my presence making it very evident that Amara was no longer alone. Before blending back into the mass, a handful of them glanced at me, some in irritation, some in unconscious acknowledgment.
As we make our way out of the uncontrolled excitement of the people in the club, Amara was trying to pull out from my grasp and I couldn't help but to notice how her movements emphasize her cleavage as her dress slightly slips down, offering a peek of her breasts. For a brief moment, I let my eyes wandered through the rhythm of her movements. But the thought of Tatiana waiting inside the car, forced me to look away, fighting back the sudden rush of my sexual desires.
"Hey, stop moving!" I said, tightening my grip on her waist to steady her.
"I don't need your help." She said under her breath, and just as she pushed against me, she became dizzy, leaning her head forward, vomiting on my coat.
"Great," I murmured, removing my coat and throwing it to the bin, slightly pulling back enough just to look at her with a mix of patience and annoyance. "Let's try to avoid making things worse, shall we?" I was taken aback when she answered me with a slow blink, her stubbornness turned into a playful chuckle. She leaned a little closer laughing uncontrollably as though the entire thing—the stumbling, the persistent wiggling, even the embarrassing accident with my coat—was funny in some way.
I took a deep breath, this woman's behavior seriously runs through my patience. All too mindful of the multiple feelings boiling above the surface, I gathered my last courage and led her cautiously to the car. She needed someone to protect her in this fragile state because I know she was more than the self-assured and annoying person she presented herself as. When she's already settled, I bent over to fasten her seatbelt, and I just can't help but to look at her directly, her eyes are closed, her breathing is calm, and my defenses are once again down by the narrow space between her breasts that is poking my arms as I click the seatbelt into place. I retreated, after taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I slipped into the driver's seat.
I glanced behind at Tatiana, who was sound sleeping and cuddled up in the back seat. My eyes then unconsciously returned to Amara, who was sitting next to me, her face softened by the streetlights passing through the windows. There was something very different between the two sisters, Amara was surprisingly soft her expression is angelic in her peaceful state, whereas Tatiana's features had a strength, a furious beauty that is intimidating. Amara looked quite separated from the fearless, rebellious lady I had just taken out of the club. If they were in the same room, Amara would probably attract more attention for her powerful radiance.
I exhaled softly, turned on the engine, and drove off toward the Montgomery estate. As I traveled through the peaceful streets, I began to feel something unusual—Tatiana the first woman I had ever loved was just a few feet away. However, I couldn't help but to keep glancing at Amara who's sleeping beside me, and my eyes just kept going there. Her normal coldness had disappeared, it was replaced with a calmness I hardly ever saw. Despite doing my best to ignore it, a silent realization began to creep into my thoughts. I shook my head, pulling my attention to focus on the road, trying to remind myself of the person I'd always cared for, the reason I was here tonight—Tatiana. Yet, the thought of Amara weaving itself into my mind refusing to be disregarded. Or maybe, I am just horny. The last time I got laid was three years ago.
The vehicle rolled into a gentle stop in front of the mansion of the Montgomery. Their parents are waiting at the entrance, both faces are worried. The moment I stepped out of the car and they hurried over Tatiana at the backseat, who could barely keep her eyes open.
"Thank you, Basil," Mrs. Montgomery said. "We weren't aware of how their night would turn out... it's good to know they had someone looking after them."
"They're both fine, just a bit worn out." I answered.
"Basil, please take care of Amara for me. Rosita will guide you to her room." Mr. Montgomery said leaving me and Amara behind.
I looked back at Amara who's already wide awake, crossing her arms around her chest, watching her parents disappear with Tatiana—it was as if she was outside the circle of her family's attention. I noticed a small changes in her expression—a sadness that softened her nerves, exposing her vulnerable side that she always hide. My chest somewhat tightened as I realized the impact of their carelessness against her. I went to her side and opened the door to catch her attention, I lend my hand but she refused to accept it and forced herself to stepped out of the car alone, but she tripped over.
"Hold me," I suggested, yet she ignored it, pushing herself once more causing her to lose her balance. "Stop pretending to be tough, I know you're fragile inside." I went down on her level, turned my back against her—offering a piggyback ride. Luckily, she accepted her defeat, placing her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.
"Why do you care so much?" She whispered.
"Because someone has to." I replied.
As we walk towards their house, she rested her head against my shoulder, her pride melting away—she was too tired to argue. My role to Amara tonight felt different than before—an out of the blue feeling of responsibility, even protectiveness, seemed to remain as I carried her toward the house.
"Up the stairs, sir. I'll show you the way," Rosita whispered, Amara's loyal nanny, taking the lead.
Reaching her room, Rosita gently opened the door, stepping aside to give way. I continued to carry her inside till I laid her carefully on her bed. Rosita was about to cover Amara with a blanket when I noticed small scratches on her knees, it was from when she stumbled outside of their house.
"Wait, her knees have wounds," I said, stopping Rosita from completely wrapping Amara. "Could you please bring me the first aid kit?" I asked.
Rosita hesitated, glancing at Amara, then back at me. "Are you sure, sir? I can—"
"I'll take care of it," I cut. "She's had a rough night. I'll make sure she's alright." Rosita gave a small nod.
Amara's room was simple, it has a clean white walls and minimal designs. There was a tiny vase on her bedside table filled with fresh flowers. Simple furnishings and muted colors made up the basic decoration, which was selected more for its practicality than for its aesthetic appeal. My gaze centered on the picture frame on the left side of her room—it was photos of Amara alone in every shot. The door screeched when Rosita came back with the first aid kit.
"Thank you, Rosita, I can take it from here." I said and took it from her
She stared at me, with a smile on her face. "Thank you, sir," She murmured softly. "She may act strong, but she needs people who truly care for her. I can see you two are a great match." After her last sentence she left without being told.
In that quiet moment, I sat on Amara's bed just below her knees. I couldn't deny the feeling of pity that is consuming me. The way her parents hurried and attended Tatiana's needs right away, while she was left in my care as if she was a second objective. Even while she was extremely independent, frequently active, and unbending, it was incredibly obvious to me now that a large part of her strength appeared to have come from being neglected.
I carefully raised the hem of her dress to check the scrapes she had previously gotten on her knees. Using a controlled movements, I applied an antiseptic to the scratches with a cotton pad, being cautious not to hurt her and avoid touching her with my fingers. Amara's face loosened up as she twitched slightly, moaning quietly but remaining sound asleep. A strange caution and a sense of duty that went deeper than I was expecting had replaced the normal stress I felt around her. After cleaning and bandaging her wounds, I took a moment to study her sleeping face with a thoughtful gaze, realizing she turned this night around.
The soft knocks at Amara's door pulled me out from my thoughts. I rose from her bed and walked over to open the door. When I turned the knob, I was surprised to see Mr. Montgomery standing there, with a calm expression. I opened the door widely and stepped aside, inviting him in. But, he remained where he was, his gaze shifting quickly to her sleeping daughter before returning to me with a slight smile.
"Thank you, Basil," he said, his voice carrying a tenderness that I wasn't prepared for. "For looking after both of my daughters tonight."
I nodded, slightly astonished by the sincerity in his tone. "It was no trouble, sir. I just wanted to make sure they got home safely."
"I know Amara can be a pain in the neck," he said, a sign of delight in his voice. "But it means a lot that you were there, at least someone can carry her when I'm not around or when I'm no longer around." He chuckled.
With one last look at Amara, Mr. Montgomery turned back to me. "Goodnight, Basil," he said, before making his way down the hallway, leaving me standing in the doorway, a recently discovered affection stayed in my mind.
Mr. Montgomery vanished down the corridor and a silent revelation settled over me. The man was not careless about Amara—He appeared to carefully conceal his love for her, possibly believing that his power would be enough to protect her without the warmth she so much needed. His words rang through my head as if it was the hint why he chose me to be tied to Amara—it was a responsibility that is beyond the deal; he was making sure that his daughter would be taken care of, protected, and understood even when he is no longer around. I felt new goals growing inside of me as I twist to face Amara again, her sleeping face relaxed in the shadows. She wanted someone who would be by her side, someone who would see her for who she truly was. In the quiet moment, I realized I was not here for obligation but because I wanted to.