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“You can be yourself… at our penthouse.” It was during the evening, while eating the delicious gourmet pizza and being stared at by Raven’s enormous dog – and having my leg scratched to hell by their demon of a cat – that Jonathan sent me pictures of the new sofas. They ones that look exactly like Sabrina’s but black, and it warms me when I see he put her fluffy pink throw blanket and pillow on the sofa. It looks…good. The pink and black together.A mixture of us.
Thank God Parker went straight to his room after we strode the few feet from Raven’s to Sabrina’s to shower and change. Something's up between them. She hardly spoke to him all night.
She groans and huffs out an agitated breath. “I haven’t baked since we left Italy.”
“You can bake at the penthouse.”
“I’ve tried! I’vetried,but it’s not the same. It’s empty and cold there. It feels like I’m baking in a museum and not my cozy kitchen.”
“I bought you all new state-of-the-art baking supplies.” I grumble.
Her eyes soften toward me again. “I know, thank you. But it doesn’tfeellike my kitchen. It feels likeyours. It feels like I’m imposing-”
“You’re not.” How can I tell this woman I want her in my home? I want her in my bed. In my car. At my fights. I want her scent on my sheets. Ialwayswant her with me. Fuck, it feels like I’m grasping at straws now. I can’t explain this feeling other than I want her there. With me. Forever. Christ, when did this happen? “You and I are married now, Sabrina. Is it that you’re scared to fall for me? Hmm? Is that why you can’t stand to be in enclosed spaces with me? Afraid you’ll fall in love with your husband?”
Please say yes.
Her face scrunches up, and she lets out a scoff, but at least she isn’t laughing at me. “You stupid, stupid man. Can't you see that it's not that I can't orwon'tlove you, it's that I can't even stand to look at myself most days? Do you see full-length mirrors here? Do you see how I avoid my reflection? Do you notice how many times I wash my hands or shower? Of course you don’t, if you did, you’d realize that I. Can't. Love. You. Because. I.Hate. Me." She sniffs. "And it's not like I don't try. My therapist says,'do this’and ‘do that’and ‘redirect your train of thought, compartmentalize’and ‘aim my ire at those who deserve it'and yet when I'm forced to look at my face every fucking morning, I still hate the person staring back at me. Even with all the inner work I’ve done. It hasn’t gone away. I still hate myself for being so stupid. So naive.
“I have to stop myself from breaking every time I walk past my reflection.Everytime, Maksim. I have to force myself to wake up and be nice to those whohaven'thurt me. I have to power through meetings in enclosed spaces and smile through it all when all I want to do isscream, Maksim," her voice breaks just enough. "I want to scream like a banshee at everyoneand everythingto leave me the fuck alone, but the only person I'm angry at - ismyself. For being too trusting. For being young and stupid and not keeping my wits about me... when it wasn't even myfault! I didn't do this to me, and yet I still have to live with the consequences."
She exhales, not allowing the tears to fall, but she sniffs. "I am continuously repairing what someone else broke while trying to maintain a semblance of who I used to be, and all I am isexhausted. Everything –lifeitself –exhaustsme so much that it’s difficult for me to evenbreathe.I feel like I'm drowning, and it all makes my skin crawl.” Her chest heaves as she sucks in a breath, blinking rapidly. “And there willalwaysbe a time when I can't push forward, and you will think meweak. Useless. Unworthy. When all I'm trying to do – every second of every hour of every fucking day – is keep my head above water from the moment my eyes open. Because even in my sleep, I'm trying to stay afloat, not letting the undercurrent take hold of me."
"I won't let it." I rasp, wanting to take all of her pain as my own, hating that she heard me call her weak, disgusted with myself for calling her useless. Whatever she went through,wasn’tjust too many alcoholic beverages. The more I see her, the more I’m beginning to seeallof her. The more I want to know what happened. Orwhohappened. Someone hurt her, someone took away the possibility ofus,and I’m going to find out who, and shred them.
Sabrina shakes her head, the glossy golden waves moving with it around her shoulders. "You can't say or promise those things. I wasfine, alone. I was atpeace, alone, Maksim. I wassafealone. Letting myself love you will ruin me."
"And you don't think it'll ruin me?"
She turns to me, "It will. But in the end, you and I both know who actually has the upper hand here. Who can inflict the most pain mentally, verbally, emotionally, and physically... and it isn't me."
My jaw drops in horror and anger. "I would never abuse-"
Green eyes snap to mine, the glare so cold. "Haven't you already? Any chance you get to remind me I'm less than, you take it and you goad it, and you fucking slap me in the face with it."
"You call me an ogre!"
"But I've never called you auselessnor aweakogre, have I? When we're in public I praise you and behind closed doors, Maksim, I've kept my venom to myself, because I'd rather choke on it than inflict the pain I feel every day onto others. You even insult mybest friendevery time you can, and without knowing it, you've insultedmeeach time you've done it. She survived somethinghorrendous,and all you hyper fixate on is that she isn't warm and inviting, oryourversion of normal. As if anything about this life, or how we came to be married isnormal, you self-righteous cockwomble. You haven't even given her a chance towarm up to you, but she loves me... even though I don’t deserve it after I deserted her." She shakes her head, and her gaze travels to the floor, and I let myself truly look at my wife.
She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I will repeat that until the end of my days. I stare openly, speechless, because she's right. Even when she's pulled away from me in public, it was to set herself straight. To makemelook better. More powerful. But now, I can see the way her shoulders sag, the way the faint purple beneath her eyes is more visible even with makeup, gaunt, pale. She looks like the exhaustion is eating her up from the inside out.
I need to fix this, but I don’t know how.
She bites her plump lower lip, letting it go slowly as though contemplating more words.
"Spit it out, Sabrina."
"In three hundred and forty-three days, you get your money back plus interest. It's more than enough. My father will no longer owe you, and neither will I."
She's counting how many days we've been married? I hike a brow, but the blood is rushing to my ears before I can even swallow whatever emotion is crawling up my sternum. "What are you saying?" I choke out, heart pounding.
"I'm saying... I think... the West Coast needs aWinters & Co.Office and... and I should manage it."
Oh no, fuck that. She wants toleave mein a year? There's a gnawing pain in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, Parker’s words from that day on her family’s jet make so much sense to me now.
“All that matters is that she stays alive in your world until you get your money.”
It had felt wrong then, it feels wrong now. She belongs with me. "Sabrina-"