Chapter 10 If it had been before, I would have even laughed

The car came to a gentle halt, and the engine was turned off. My mother turned to face us, a weary smile on her face. "We're here," she announced, her eyes gleaming with relief and fatigue.

I didn't move. The comfort of my aunt's lap was something new and unexpected, and I was reluctant to leave it. It felt like I was hooked, even though it was the first time I had experienced this kind of coziness.

My aunt chuckled softly, a playful smile lighting up her face. "Looks like someone doesn't want to get out," she teased, her eyes twinkling with humor and affection.

My mother laughed in response, a sound that seemed to fill the car with warmth. "Come on, get out already. I'm hungry," she insisted, her playful tone hiding the seriousness of the situation.

I gave a half-smile, an odd and uncomfortable feeling forming in my chest. If it weren't for the recent revelations about my parents - the mutual betrayal, the lies, and the secrets - I probably would have laughed and felt genuinely happy.

Instead, I thanked my aunt for the comfort she had provided. "Thank you for your thighs," I said with a smile, trying to ease the growing tension.

My aunt smiled back, her eyes full of anticipation and teasing. "I don't mind if you want more," she replied, her words sending a wave of warmth through me.

With a reluctant sigh, I got up from my aunt's lap and stepped out of the car. Even with the coolness of the night seeping into my skin, I could still feel the residual warmth that emanated from her.

We entered the house, a modest and cozy building that had been our refuge for so many years. My mother went ahead, starting to prepare the food that my aunt had brought.

I sat down on one of the sofas, my mind spinning with recent events. Despite the circumstances, I felt oddly calm, as if my aunt's presence had given me a sense of security I hadn't had before.

My aunt came into the room, the soft fabric of her clothes rippling with every step she took. She sat down beside me, the couch settling under her weight. She turned to me, her questioning eyes meeting mine.

"Do you want... do you want to lie on my thighs again?" she asked, her voice gentle and kind. The warmth in my chest intensified, and I felt a smile forming on my face.

"Yes, I would love that," I replied, my voice more enthusiastic than I had expected. I saw a smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes in such a way that it almost took my breath away.

With a gentle gesture, she settled on the couch, allowing me to lie comfortably. My heart pounded as I rested my head on her thighs, the comforting warmth spreading through me. I adjusted myself, finding the perfect position, and took a deep breath, savoring the moment.

Gathering my courage, I decided to ask something that had been on my mind for a while. "Why didn't you divorce your husband?" I asked, my voice careful. "Since he was aggressive towards you."

Her expression changed instantly. The smile that had previously lit up her face vanished, replaced by a look of sadness and pain. She remained silent for a moment, her eyes downcast and her hands restless.

I could feel the tremor in her thighs, a soft vibration that made me realize the extent of her discomfort. I was about to apologize, to say she didn't have to answer if she didn't want to, when she finally spoke.

"I... I thought he would change," she said, her words coming out strangled. "I thought he could become a better person. But he only became more violent, more cruel. He never hit me at first, but the words... his words were like daggers."

I stayed silent, absorbing her words. I had many questions, many things I wanted to say, but I knew that now was not the time. So I just snuggled closer to her, letting her know I was there for her, offering the same comfort she had given me.

I looked at my aunt, confused. "At first?" I asked.

She nodded, her eyes fixed on some distant point. "Yes, at first it was just cursing and swearing. He started doing that when he started hanging out with some guys from our street. But he started hitting me when he found out something about me."

At this point, my aunt stopped speaking. I stayed silent, watching her. She seemed scared to continue, scared to reveal what her husband had discovered. I was ready to use my ocular powers to see her thoughts and get the information I wanted, but she opened her mouth, trembling.

"He forced me to drink," she confessed, her voice almost inaudible. "Even though I didn't want to, I drank to please him. But I didn't expect that when I drank, I would talk too much."

She stopped speaking again, her expression distressed. I could see the internal struggle in her eyes, the battle between the need to share her story and the fear of the consequences.

"It's okay," I said softly, squeezing her hand. "You don't have to continue if you don't want to. But I'm here for you, no matter what."

She looked at me, her eyes glistening with unspoken gratitude. For a moment, we sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

She took a deep breath, struggling to gather the courage necessary to continue. Her throat was dry, and she swallowed in vain before starting to speak again.

"One night, after we had been drinking together, he asked me if I still loved him," she began, her words coming out shaky, laden with emotion. "I... I told him yes, I loved him. But I also said that I loved you."

My aunt stopped, as if the words were stuck in her throat. She seemed to be struggling to breathe, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I held her hand, encouraging her to continue, but also offering a means to stop if necessary.

After a moment, she continued, her words coming out in a whisper. "I told him that I loved you, but not as a nephew... I told him that I loved you romantically."

Her words had no effect on me since I had left on account of my powers. But even so, I had known my aunt all my life, but never once did I think that she could have feelings for me. But now that she was saying it, everything made sense - the comfort she gave me, the way she looked at me, the way she cared about me. If it weren't for these ocular powers of mine, I would never have known. Or perhaps she would have spoken.

"When I said that," she continued, her voice trembling, "he went mad. I don't... I don't remember anything after that. The next thing I know is that I woke up all bruised, covered in wounds all over my body. And after that day... my life became a living hell."

There were tears in her eyes now, and I could feel the pain in her words. I got up from her lap and hugged her, holding her tightly. She returned the hug, her body shaking with silent crying.

"I'm sorry," I whispered in her ear, "sorry for making you bring up these painful memories."

She pulled away slightly, her eyes meeting mine. "No," she said, her voice firm despite the tears. "I'm glad to finally be able to talk about it. I... I needed this."

I nodded, although I didn't know what to say. But one thing was for sure - I would never let her suffer again. I would be there for her, no matter what happened. And, whenever she needed, my lap would be there to give her the comfort she gave me in that car, that night.