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That’s why I’m lying in the fetal position on my bedroom floor, clutching the snow globe I stole from a place I never should have been, and trying to remember how to breathe.
“Oh God,” I gasp. “Oh, God…”
It’s all too much. Just way, way too damn much. Celine. Ilarion. Dad. I looked at him today and saw something like resignation on his face. As though he knows his days are numbered and he is just biding time until the end arrives.
I stare at the snow globe, shaking the base every now and then to start up the spiraling snowflakes once again. My breathing slowly settles.
Then I hear a knock on the door. I shove the snow globe under the dressing table so fast that I take a chunk out of the floorboards.
A second later, Mila walks in. This whole family has never been great at waiting patiently. She stops short when she sees me. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“Um…resting?”
“There’s a bed over there,” she says, pointing at it just in case I hadn’t noticed. “A couch over in that corner and even more chairs in the other one. And you chose…the floor?”
“I like the floor, okay?”
“Riiiight,” Mila drawls with a knowing nod. “Or perhaps you were having a little meltdown.”
I glower at her. “Sometimes, it’s polite to pretend like you don’t know what’s going on when people are in distress.”
“Never been my forte. I call it like I see it.”
“But can you take what you dish out?”
I’m being catty, but then again, I’m not really feeling in the mood to play nice. This family has never been great at sparing feelings, either.
Mila walks over to the bed I’ve ignored and sits down on it, facing me. “Good question. Why don’t you hit me with something? Then maybe we’ll find out.”
“Have you told Dima about your feelings for him?” I ask bluntly.
Her face doesn’t change, not really. It just tightens. Solidifies. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then I guess we have our answer. You can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”
She grinds her teeth. “I forgot how annoying you are.”
“Is that why you were so offended when I left without saying goodbye?” She growls at me, and I laugh. “We’re friends, Mila. Whether you like it or not. It comes with the territory. Now, you wanna keep denying it, or you wanna tell me the truth?”
“I can’t have sex,” she blurts out.
I pause. I was not expecting…that.
“Sorry…what?”
Mila nods, looking more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen her. “Every time I think about sex, I think about…things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Things that make me turn into the worst version of myself. I do have feelings for Dima. Always have. But if I tell him about how I feel, I’ll also be asking him to commit to a sexless life with me, and that’s not fair.”
“So you’d rather just watch him go off with other women?”
“How is that any different than what you’re doing?”
I cringe and close my eyes. When I talk, though, I’m not sure if I’m talking about Mila’s situation or my own. “Maybe he wants you more than he wants sex,” I suggest. “Maybe he wants to be able to make the choice for himself.”
She scoffs. “This is not fantasy-land, Taylor. This is real life. Men want sex. You won’t believe the lengths they’ll go to just to get it.”
I push myself off the ground and walk over to the bed to sit beside her. I don’t touch her because I know she’ll reject it, but I stay close enough to let her know I’m there.
“I’ve thought a lot about you over the years, Mila,” I say. “I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, but I know intimacy can’t possibly be easy after you’ve been…taken advantage of that way. After you’ve been…”
