The mansion became silent as darkness finished devouring the sky. The lights that illuminated the wide hallways during the day remained off, and the massive building seemed submerged in a deep calm, as if even the walls were resting after the constant movement of the day.
The cold that Delilah felt on her thin arms was finally the only reason that convinced her to turn off the kitchen lights and head to her room. She had stayed there much longer than planned, going over small tasks that no one had asked of her directly, but that she still considered necessary.
She walked toward the exit, and as soon as she touched the small switch to turn off the last light, a clear and unexpected voice emerged from the darkness.
—It is quite late. I didn't know you were so diligent.
Delilah was slightly startled.
Cain's silhouette appeared shortly after, entering the kitchen as if he hadn't noticed the lights had just gone out.
—Do you always sleep so late? —he asked calmly as he stepped forward.
—There is a list of things I must check —she responded, trying to regain her composure—. There will be a large celebration soon.
The weak moonlight coming through the enormous windows was enough to reveal his figure leaning against the table. Cain crossed his arms calmly, finding a more comfortable position while he observed her in silence.
The subject of the Marquise's party didn't seem important enough to justify that conversation at such an hour. Remembering everything that had happened during the day, Delilah began to suspect that, in reality, she was being held there on purpose.
—So... —she finally said, looking at him cautiously— have you managed to reject the girl?
She tried to make him uncomfortable with the question, hoping to speed up whatever intention he had by starting the conversation.
It took Cain only a few seconds to react. He straightened up from the table and began to walk slowly toward her.
—Eilith is a girl who is very clear about what she wants —he responded calmly—. And she doesn't seem to have any secret intentions.
Delilah frowned slightly.
His answer was reasonable... but she didn't understand why he kept getting closer as he spoke.
—Then it's fine for you —she murmured.
She tried to step away. But Cain gently took her arm before she could. The gesture was not rough, but it was enough to stop her.
—I am not strong enough to control the pain and the hatred —he said suddenly, lowering his voice—. That is why I have kept my distance from women who seek something serious from me.
His fingers loosened their pressure on her arm slightly.
—Perhaps it is true that I am a bit disordered.
Delilah looked at him, confused. Something strange seemed to be happening in that man's mind. Observing his eyes up close, it seemed to her that the confident shine that usually accompanied him had gone out, leaving only a tired shadow.
—People's lies hurt much more than you could imagine —Cain continued in a low voice.
Inevitably, a memory she had been trying to bury for a long time returned to her mind.
—You know, Delilah... —he finally murmured— I always wondered if Layla's behavior was entirely my fault.
—Layla?
The name escaped Delilah's lips with uncertainty.
She hesitated for a moment. She didn't know if she should allow him to continue or try to stop him. Cain's expression was completely different from what he usually showed.
Something inside him was changing.
The hand with which he held her arm tensed slightly. Cain's past was not an extraordinary story; something like that could happen to anyone. However, the wounds still burned like the first day. Hatred continued to spin inside his heart like an endless cycle, and yet, he wished to forget it with all his might. He hated the fear that invaded him every time he remembered that nightmare.
—Even now, I try to convince myself that I can be happy for her —he continued with a bitter smile, as if those words weighed on him—. I force myself to be understanding.
He lowered his gaze for a moment, unable to sustain his own thoughts.
—But I am a hypocrite. In reality... what I desire is her misery.
His words remained suspended in the silent shadows of the kitchen.
—Nothing can erase that night in which I experienced true hell.
The confession was vague, fragmented, as if the memories resisted taking shape. Delilah couldn't know if those were still his current feelings or if they were just echoes of a pain far too old that still refused to disappear. There were also no words capable of freeing someone trapped in such deep suffering.
After a moment, Cain slowly raised his hand and brushed Delilah's hair. His fingers trembled for just an instant.
The memories still tormented him. It was hard not to feel compassion for him.
Then Delilah spoke.
—Can I touch you, too?
The question took him completely by surprise. Cain blinked, as if waking from a dream.
—Why would you want to touch me?
Delilah lowered her gaze a bit before responding, as if searching for the right words.
—I think... at least I should hug you. Even if it doesn't serve to calm your suffering.
The silence that followed was long.
The idea of being hugged by her was completely outside of Cain's reasoning. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. Meanwhile, Delilah's cheeks began to flush as she became fully aware of what she had just said. But it was already too late to take back her words.
Cain took a deep breath. Then he gently let go of her arm.
—It's late —he finally murmured—. I'm leaving. Good night.
He turned around and left the kitchen without looking back.
When the door closed, Delilah's heart was beating with a completely uncontrolled intensity. She could pretend that nothing had happened, but she would have had to be completely crazy to have actually thought about hugging him.
She put a hand to her face. Her cheeks were burning.
Her own body had betrayed her.
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