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I’m in bed when he knocks on the door. I stay on my side with my face turned to the wall and my eyes closed. Porcelain clatters as his footsteps near. There are no fancy rugs or carpets in this room, only a cold, barren stone floor, just the way I prefer. It reminds me I’m in his prison, not in his home.
A whiff of roses reaches my nostril.
“I brought you a cup of tea,” he says.
The cup and saucer click on the nightstand. The mattress indents as he sits down on the edge. When he strokes a broad palm over my hair, I cringe. He withdraws the touch.
“No one can change what you mean to me, Zoe,” he says. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. When you touch me, I’m alive. You’re the only person in this world who makes me see light. The only good I have inside me is when you’re around.” He pauses. “There’s not much I can deny you. You know that. I’ll make you happy again. I promise.”
I turn on my back and open my eyes. His face is beautiful in its imperfection. It’s a face I hold dear to my heart, but I won’t let him hurt both me and the woman who’s been promised to him. I won’t be the reason for making another woman suffer the way I’m suffering now.
“If you want to make me happy,” I say, “let me go.”
“I’ll give you anything in my power, but not that.”
“There’s no point in keeping me. I’m not a cheater. I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“We’ll go to Venice.”
“Venice?” I bite out. “Do you think that place holds any good memories for me?”
He flinches. “Making love for the first time isn’t a good memory?”
“You stole my virginity with manipulation.” My tears threaten to spill over again. “You stole my love knowing you belonged to another. There’s no place in the world you can take me to make me forget that.”
“Where’s the girl who believed in love and romance?”
“I don’t believe in fairytales any longer.”
He cups my cheek. “But you want to.”
I turn my face away, escaping the touch. “Please. Leave me.”
He considers me for a moment, then stands. Staring down at me, he says, “I’ll give you time to get used to the change.” After another stretch of silence, he walks to the door. In the frame, he turns. “Drink your tea. You’ll feel better.”
When he’s gone, I grab the cup and hurl it at the wall. It breaks with a shattering sound into pieces, the rose petal infusion wasted on the floor.
I don’t sleep that night. I lie awake in the dark, thinking. At daybreak, I have a shower and dress in my favorite leggings and jersey. I brush my hair and put on my makeup. I eat breakfast in the knife-less kitchen. I clear out the room Maxime turned into a workspace for me, packing the fabric, buttons, lace, ribbons, and thread into boxes that I seal. Benoit helps me to carry them down to the cellar. I vacuum and air the room, getting rid of my presence and smell. I make sure there’s no traces left of me, nothing that can hurt another woman. All that’s left when I’m done is my sewing machine. I seal it in its original box and make Benoit carry that to the cellar, too.
By the end of the week, the armchair in the library has been replaced with a new one I’ve ordered online. The old one I’ve burned on the beach. Maxime says nothing through it all. He gives me the space he’s promised. His guards avoid me. They avert their eyes when I go outside for a walk. Even Francine isn’t cruel enough to say she told me so. Like everyone else, she keeps her distance. They’re avoiding me as if I’m on death row.
On Wednesday, Maxime comes to find me in my new room. He’s holding my coat and scarf in his hand.
“Come on,” he says. “We’re going for a ride.”
“Where to?”
“You’ll see.”
We haven’t spoken since the night he promised to give me time, but I haven’t stopped thinking. My thoughts haven’t been quiet for a moment. There’s something I need to know.
“If Damian doesn’t honor the deal you have with Dalton, what are you going to do to him?”
His expression becomes closed-off again. “Whatever it takes.”
“That’s your plan? That’s why you’re keeping me? To use me against him?”
“I already told you why I’m keeping you.” He holds the coat open. “Come now. You’re going to like what I want to show you.”
“If you didn’t have me, what else would you use?”
He sighs. “There’s always someone or something a person cares about.”
“You’ll hurt him or whoever and whatever he cares about to have your way.”
“In short, yes.”
