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It took a few moments, but eventually the door opened, and Giselle stood there, her blonde hair down and her body wearing ivory pajamas. A pair of rather short shorts and a button-down shirt with short sleeves that looked like it was made of silk. She looked… well, she looked amazing, but that was to be expected when it came to Giselle.
“Oh, it’s you,” she whispered. “I thought you were my father.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” Not sure why I said that. Not sure why at all. Half the time I was pretty sure Giselle resented her father and everything he stood for. I supposed, if I was her and had my freedom basically taken away, I would resent him, too.
“What are you doing here?”
I glanced down the hall. I knew we were alone here, but still, that didn’t mean this was easy. Technically, Miguel could waltz up here at any time and overhear our conversation. Looking back at her, I spoke in a soft voice, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Things got a little… weird tonight. I’m sure it was a lot to handle.”
She stared at me with eyes much like her father’s, and yet hers I could read a bit easier. Her walls were up as high as they could go, her guard up as strong as it could be. Giselle didn’t trust me, and it made that stupid thing inside my chest ache. “I’m fine.”
“Really?” I asked. “Because you didn’t seem fine when you were sitting with Rocco Moretti and his son.”
Her face twisted into one of fury, and before I could say anything else, Giselle slammed the door in my face. It was a good thing I hadn’t moved an inch into her room, otherwise she would’ve got me.
I leaned my forehead on the door, closing my eyes. “I know it might not mean much to you, but I want you to know I’d never let a man like that hurt you.” That was as heartfelt as I could get; talking about certain things… it wasn’t easy for me. Men in my position didn’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. They couldn’t. If they did, it put those they loved in danger.
Although Giselle was already in danger, simply being Miguel’s daughter—especially with how she’d been paraded around tonight, flaunting her white dress in a sea of black.
There was no movement inside the bedroom, no sounds coming from it, and I was slow to pull myself away from the door. I didn’t want to leave, but it was clear Giselle did not want me there. It was for the best. These feelings I had for her were just stupid, anyway. Heaving a sigh, I turned to leave, to walk away, but that was the moment when she spoke.
She didn’t open her door to do it; she simply spoke through it, much like I had: “I know men like Rocco, so trust me when I say nothing you can do matters.” Giselle’s words sounded so sad, so defeated; it didn’t even sound like her.
I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to hold her close and ask her what she meant, if there was more to this story I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to push her tonight. She talked back to me through the door, so I’d consider that a win. A teeny one, but a win, nonetheless.
So, instead of doing what I wanted to do, I said, “Goodnight, Giselle.” And then I walked away even though it was one of the hardest things I ever did.
That girl… I didn’t know what to think of her, but the realization hit me as I walked out of the house. That stupid priest, Zek, was right. Men wanted what they couldn’t have. Giselle was the boss’s daughter. I could spend time with her, I could be kind to her every single day from here on out, but it wouldn’t change anything.
I was in love with a girl who could never be mine.
