My lips curled in a calm smile. I took a step closer to him. His gaze still penetrated through me. Then I heard the sound of distant footsteps. As if the day couldn't get any more surprising, Isabella and Emilia walked in, and the very sight of them brought butterflies to my belly.
***********
I didn't wait for them to come to me; I walked all the way to them. We had a group hug. It felt warm and welcoming. Emilia had that scent of hers, and Isabella kept her face nonchalant.
“I've missed you,” Emilia's words made me smile because I knew she meant it. Isabella wasn't fazed by this. I knew she missed me, too, but she was too proud to say it.
“Come, this way, please,” I said, leading them towards the drawing room.
They sat on the soft foam of the sofa, and the level of concern that clouded their faces alerted me. I knew there were questions that were going to be asked, and I had no intention of hiding them. If there was anyone I could tell anything to, it was my girls.
“What the hell happened to you, Liza? What's all the news we've been hearing these days?” Isabella shot at me.
“So, would you like to know the whole thing, or would you rather have a nice summary?” I asked.
“We're here for a while, so I'm sure we won't mind knowing the whole thing,” Emilia replied. I stood and walked across the room.
“Oh my goodness…” I said. “Where the hell do I start?”
“Uh…the beginning works fine with me,” Isabella uttered in retort. I stood up from the sofa, sighed, walked to and from the chair at an even pace, before I began to narrate all that had happened. I spoke of the kidnapping, the scandal with my dad, and how the Lobanovs are in search of him. At some point, I stood still, and I gave careful thought to telling them about the worst of it all. How my father intended to sell me off to the point where I thought of running away from home. But I couldn't tell them that. The thought of it was so embarrassing. Why on earth would someone treat his daughter like that? It was insane, and I didn't want it to get the best of me.
“Are you okay?” Emilia's voice got my attention, and I nodded my head in response. I walked back to the sofa and took my seat between them. Emilia's arms wrapped around me, and Isabella patted my back gently.
“Don't worry about it, okay, we're here for you every step of the way. I know it’s not easy, but you can be assured that you have our full support.”
Emilia's words brought calm. Her voice soothed my mind, and though I tried to hide my tears, it felt nearly impossible to hold them back.
“On the bright side, Roman is probably the best person to be forced into marriage with, don't you think? I mean, for someone like you who's in the media, he seems to be the right fit.”
“Why do you act like that?” Emilia asked Isabella, who shrugged. I smiled. They were both the perfect parts of me expressed in a different body, and I loved it. Their presence was better than anything I could have asked for. I was dying for someone to talk to, for people who'd treat me as an equal, not like a slave. People who realized that I had a life and a choice. I wondered what Roman had in mind, but I knew that all I wanted was this. Love and connection, and I would stop at nothing to keep it.
We had another group hug after I saw them off. I didn't want to let go, but I had to. God, I wish I could cajole them into staying, but I couldn't. Roman’s mansion didn't really feel like home because I was forced into it. Regardless, I knew that this wasn't the end.
Shortly after their departure, I turned to head back, and Stepan approached me. I stood still, cautious of whatever he wanted to say or do. He looked dangerously buff, and his voice was like the gentle roar of a wildcat.
“The designers are here to help you choose a dress for the gala tonight. If you don't mind, they're up in your suite,” he said, and I exhaled.
“Tell them I'll be with them shortly,” I said before he walked off. I could swear that each step he took was twice the step I'd have to take to catch up with him. But I stayed back a little bit, trying to feel hopeful for whoever and whatever was going to come my way.
***********
We spent hours with the so-called designers and their surprising taste in color and style. I had one pick me a nice fitted white gown with a flowery collar. It was the best out of all the things they brought for me to try on.
“Roman said the theme was mostly plain, so we decided to bring plain colors for you to try on,” they said. A horriblegala that would be, I thought. I kept on trying, the stylist kept at it, and I felt tired of saying no to almost everything they brought along. The only dress I gave a second thought to was the champagne gown that had a long train. It was long enough to hide my shoes, and it stood out because it was bolder than the rest.
Later that night, when it was time for the gala, I deliberately chose a wine dress instead. I put my makeup on and glossed my lips in bold red. Roman walked into the room to check on me, and I saw that he was unhappy with what I wore.
“Out,” he said. “Everybody.”
The designers and stylists walked out of the room, and I stood still, with every step he made bringing him closer to me.
“I see you like challenging me,” he said.
“Well, I don't like being a prop. If I'm going to do something like this, it'll have to be on my terms.”
Roman turned his head to the side and ran his hand through his hair. His steps towards me were careful, as though rehearsed. His face nearly touched mine, and I traced his beauty with my eyes. Truly, his eyes were one of his best features, and I prayed that no matter what happens, he wouldn't do anything that would catch me off guard. I felt something touch my back. I looked down and saw that his hand was at my waist.
I knew he was displeased with my gown, but I didn't know what his touch meant. Was he trying to see if it fit me? Was he trying to pull it off me from behind? It could be something good or bad, and I hated the uncertainty.
