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NATALIA
They used to think I was crazy.
And once upon a time, I believed it too.
No one was ever bold enough to comment, but their eyes would say everything their mouths never did.
I was wild, but I was in control.
Always.
So, I allowed them all to believe what they wanted, and that was their misfortune, not mine.
Now, however, I think I might actually be crazy.
Everything I’ve strived for is slowly slipping through my fingers as if everything is made of fine sand, and I’m losing my grip.
I knew coming back wouldn’t end well, but ever the optimist, I told myself to keep quiet and storm the kingdom, take back the crown that’s rightfully mine, and everything would be okay.
Then Beckett Knight happened.
Beckett-fucking-Knight.
And suddenly, everything I worked for, every fear I’ve driven, and every single threat I promised teetered on the edge of uncertainty. I need to get a grip.
Breaking at the first hurdle, my father’s voice mocks in the chambers of my mind. How very predictable of you, Natalia.
“You’ve got that look again.”
Andreas’s soft tone pulls me from the reverie, louder than my father’s.
I twist, my body curls closer against his, and I make sure he realises I need his full, undivided attention. We’ve been sitting here since the sun began to set, leaving everyone to their own devices as we sank into a companionable silence.
It’s nice. This moment of domestication.
“You’re in this for the long run, right?” I ask, my hand reaching to touch his, forcing a physical connection. “I need to know your trust isn’t empty.”
“Tally.”
My nickname is a soft blow against the quiet of our flat. My name in that tone is a peaceful litany that says a thousand words that I needed to hear all at once.
Trust is a double-edged sword, and as much as I trust Andreas, I know that everything I have told him, everything he has learned and will learn, is all ammunition he can use against me. While it gives me comfort, it also tells me I’m getting too close.
Yet, I can’t deny him anything.
Andreas is as much a part of me as I am him. We are forged in grief, bound in honour, and while he may use that against me, I wouldn’t do the same, unless necessary.
“I just need to know I’m worth the faith you give me.” I sit up, pushing against his body to force a minor space between us. “My father always said trust is like a paper coffin. I never quite understood until I watched all of the trust I had in people go up in flames. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”
“Never had your father down for poetic, but it works, I suppose.” He gives me a small grin, laced with reassurances I don’t even think he’s certain about. “I told you we’re cut from the same cloth. No matter how many times you argue the point, I’ll disagree. Our lives aren’t easy, Tally, but we found one another for a reason.”
“But I have no idea how this will pan out,” I whisper, hating how weak I’ve become under the strain of this moment. “You wanted freedom. I can’t give you that until I’m done here.”
A calloused hand comes to brace the side of my face. Andreas’s tenderness is always something that astounds me. He’s built of muscles and stature; he shouldn’t be able to master gentleness like this.
“We found one another for a reason. I believed that then, and I’ll believe it tomorrow, and the day after that. I just need you to promise me that there are no more secrets, Natalia.” The hurt from my prior discretion still reigns in his eyes. “I don’t like to be blindsided. You did exactly that.”
“And I’m sorry for that.”
