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He rolls me back onto my side and resumes his position behind me and I don’t move to wipe away the tear that slides over the bridge of my nose and onto the pillow.
I don’t know what this is.
If he were brutal, it would be easier.
If he made me hate him, I could do this.
But this? I’m at a loss.
“Goodnight, Gabriela.”
I want to say it back, something as innocuous as that. But I’m afraid to open my mouth, to speak because he’ll hear that I’m crying, and I can’t have that.
And I keep thinking that he’s right. I betrayed him tonight. I did more than push him when I compared him to my father, a man he loathes. A man he’s vowed to destroy no matter the cost. And my going to Alex, I didn’t give it a second thought, never once considered telling Stefan about Alex. Asking him to take me there himself.
I behaved the way I would with my father. And as much as I want to believe Stefan is exactly like him, as ruthless as him, as cruel, what he did tonight, all of it, it’s not what I expected from him.
And that’s the hardest part of all.17GabrielaWhen I wake up in the morning, I’m alone, and I feel embarrassed when I realize I’m turned toward his pillow and my arm is laid out across his side of the bed.
Did I do this while I slept? Turn into him? Wrap myself around him like those women at the pool did yesterday?
I have to be careful. I have to remember that he’s much more experienced than me in every way. And I have to remember that no matter what, he has a purpose for what he’s doing.
I am collateral damage. That is all.
Last night, he came across as caring because I’m pathetically starved for that kind of affection. Hell, for any kind of affection. And his touch, his arm around me, his body solid behind mine, as good as it felt, it means nothing to him.
I mean nothing to him.
I am a means to an end. To my father’s end, to be specific.
Didn’t he say as much?
I push the covers back, forcing myself to look at the brutal truth. To remember it and not let myself become confused or ridiculously infatuated.
He was also full of shit when he said he wouldn’t punish me. He took my iPod, my only means of communication with Alex, and the fake passport. I didn’t even think to try to get them back or argue. Last night was an insane whirlwind of events and emotions.
I get up, have a shower and put on the now wrinkled dress because it’s that or the evening gown. I open the door to go downstairs only to be greeted by a soldier standing guard beside my door.
Did Stefan station him there when he left? And when did he leave? As soon as I fell asleep? I wonder if Clara’s staying with Uncle Jack too. All the cousins cozy in one house, in one bed.
I muster my courage and step out into the hallway.
The guard doesn’t stop me but when I make my way down the hallway to the stairs, he follows.
I look back over my shoulder. He keeps a stony face. I just give a shake of my head and walk down to the first floor, following the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee.
A buffet is set up in the dining room and as soon as I enter, a woman in uniform comes from the kitchen and greets me.
“Good morning,” I say, eyeing the coffee.
She explains for me to help myself to everything.
When I ask her if she knows where Stefan is, she just shakes her head.
I get myself a cup of coffee and take a big sip before making a plate of food. I didn’t eat much last night and I’m hungry.
I’m just sitting down to eat my first strip of bacon when Stefan walks into the dining room. He’s been working out because he’s got his shirt off and is using it to wipe his face. It takes all I have to drag my gaze from his bare, sweaty chest. From that tattoo over his heart. From all that muscle beneath tightly stretched, tanned skin.
Rafa follows close behind, the two of them talking.
“Good morning,” Stefan greets me.
My heartbeat picks up and I give him a quick smile before shifting my gaze to Rafa who has a casual expression on his face.
“Missed you on our run,” Rafa says.
It takes all I have to not mention last night. To not remind him how cruelly he’d gripped my arm. To not point out the bruise he left.
Stefan pours himself a big glass of ice water and leans against the buffet, watching us.
“No one invited me,” I tell Rafa while glancing at Stefan over his shoulder.
