A tear trickles over her cheek, and I wipe it away with my thumb before I pull her into a hug. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I whisper, “I want you to be happy, Yuki. It’s the only thing that will ease the relentless remorse I feel.”
A soft sob sputters from her, and it has me tightening my hold on her while kissing her forehead. “No one will ever abuse you again. I’ll protect you the same way I protect my family.”
Yuki places her hands on my sides, and for a moment, I think she’s going to push me away, but then another sob bursts from her, and she presses a little closer to me.
As she cries against my chest, I get the feeling it’s not only because of everything I’ve put her through, but for the hellish life she’s lived up until now.
Rocco, one of the guards, comes around the corner of the house, and the instant he spots us, he makes a U-turn and leaves.
When Yuki manages to calm down, she pulls back and wipes her tears away with her fingertips. She sucks in a shaky breath before looking at me.
Her expression turns pleading as she asks, “Do you really mean everything you say?”
“I do.” The urge to keep comforting her is overwhelming, and I can’t stop myself from placing my hand on the side of her neck. Trying to lighten the mood a little, I joke, “Besides, my mother will lose her shit if I hurt a hair on your head. She already loves you.”
Yuki’s chin quivers, and she swallows hard before she admits, “I really want to believe you.”
“It will take time.” I brush my thumb along her jaw, reveling in how soft her skin feels. “As we get to know each other better, you’ll learn to trust me.”
When I pull my hand back, Yuki lifts her fingers to touch the side of her neck while she glances at the pond. A breath quivers over her lips, and it’s only then the thought slaps me upside the head.
This woman has been pretending to be a man since she was eleven.
“You never got to be a woman,” I say, sadness for her creeping into my voice.
She shakes her head. “I’m still trying to get used to my face.”
Jesus. Yuki must be going through one hell of an identity crisis on top of everything.
“What do you want, Yuki?” I ask the question she’s probably never been asked in her life. “What gender do you prefer?”
If this woman wants to become a man, I’ll support her in every way I can.
Her teeth tug at her bottom lip, then she replies, “I want to be a woman.” Her eyes touch on mine before she looks at the pond again. “When I saw Gianna in the club, I was jealous becauseshe got to look so pretty, and then Riccardo looked at her with so much love, and I wondered what it would feel like.” Her voice grows softer as she admits, “I want that.”
Yuki becomes uncomfortable and shy because of what she just confessed and walks closer to the water to look at the koi.
At least I know in which direction to move.
I pull my phone out again and search how to help a woman feel feminine, hoping there’s something I can do to make things easier for her.
Show appreciation. Be chivalrous. Compliment her femininity. Romance, affection, and being gentle.
I can do all of that. With a mother and two sisters, it’s practically second nature to me.
Let’s start with chivalrous, gentle, and appreciation.
My eyes land on the flowers that were planted along the path. Picking one with white petals, I go to Yuki, and standing behind her, I hold the flower in front of her face.
“Thank you for opening up and talking to me.”
With her eyes locked on the flower, she turns slightly, then her surprised gaze flits to me.
On the spur of the moment, I gently tuck the flower in her hair above her ear, then smile at my handiwork. “Beautiful.” I stare at her expressive features, then slowly, I lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead.
Taking a step back, I hold my hand out to Yuki. “Let me introduce you to the guards, then we can get to know each other more.”
She hesitates for a few seconds before she lays her palm in mine, and remorse curls tighter around my heart when I notice how my fingers engulf hers.
