In the early morning light, I tiptoed down the stairs. It had been a long night. After the tedious bus journey, I was exhausted, and I had thought I’d sleep like a log but I had no such luck. I tossed, turned and tossed some more but to no avail. For most of the night, I’d stared at the ceiling listening to the clock tick - echoing amongst the silence. I was waiting. The inevitable would happen, the only question was when. Every noise from the outside had me tense.
Every creak on the stairs filled me with a fresh wave of panic. Was that him? Had he found me?
My own mind had spent the night torturing me, racing for hours, making it impossible to close my eyes for some much-needed rest. Even if my mind had slowed down; my lungs felt like they were filled with rocks, my stomach eating away at itself and my heart... physically hurt.
Was that a real thing? Could I actually be feeling physical heartbreak? It sounded like something you would get in a regency romance. Not something real people experienced.
It had only been twenty-four hours since I had left the King compound and I was a fucking wreck. I didn’t even know how I’d made it this far; it was all a blur. Yesterday passed as though I was on auto-pilot. Leaving the compound, then the bus journey, talking to Rachel, Kaleb’s surprise and Ambrose’s anger. All of it blurred together into one helluva day.
I was lingering on the staircase, slowly making my way down when a clattering sound erupted from down the hallway. The kitchen? I followed it and found Rachel seated at the breakfast bar with a mug in her hand and a plate in front of her. My stomach grumbled at the sight of food. A clang came from my right and I relaxed when I found the sound coming from the maid as she dried and put away the dishes.
“Good morning, dear. Would you like some coffee?”
I smiled in response and nodded, I rounded the island to where the maid was standing, already with a cup in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. “Thanks,” I said as I took the offered cup.
“What would you like to eat? You must be starving. You hardly ate anything at dinner last night.”
“Cereal will be fine.” The maid showed me to a cupboard with a row of cereal boxes, then proceeded to get me a bowl and a spoon.
So far, it seemed like a normal morning. Except it fucking wasn’t, was it?
It was my first night here, my first morning in this house, my first time being in this kitchen. I didn’t expect a parade or anything but why was Rachel acting so damn normal. Like it was any other day, and not the day her daughter came home. I held in my disappointed sigh as I moved effortlessly around the kitchen.
I supposed it was my fault for building it up in my head. I thought that I had learnt a long time ago to keep your expectations for family as low as possible. If anyone was able to cut you deep it’s family, so stay low and keep a safe distance.
There was a thump outside and my ears perked at the sound. A harsh resounding banging started on the front door seconds later. That was him. It was irrational, but some part of me just knew. He was here and I’d bet everything I had that he was planning on dragging me back to Boston.
Well, that was quick. Apparently, I’d had cause for concern during my sleepless night.
Goosebumps rose along my skin at the thought of seeing him again. It had only been a day and I’d already missed him, like we’d been separated for months and not hours.
His presence was one that became addictive without you even being aware of it. Then suddenly I’ve turned around, he’s no longer there - I feel like I’m missing a leg. That phantom part of me has returned now, I know it. I can feel it as real as air, as true as my breath. He is here. He is here. He has come for me. I know it.
I tried my hardest to hide my reaction from Rachel. I was lucky that she wasn’t close enough to notice Nikolai’s effect on me because it was almost impossible to quell the excitement buzzing through my veins. Rachel was too occupied to notice me as she startled at the banging.
“What in the heck....?” Rachel jumped at the sound, looking up from her coffee. “Rosetta, who is that?”
Rosetta, I assumed, was the maid. We hadn’t been officially introduced - and I assumed we wouldn’t be - but I had seen her scurrying around. She seemed timid and I couldn’t imagine how she would last long working here. It was obvious that Rachel struck the fear of god into the poor woman.
There was a commotion in the foyer. My skin came alive, tingling at the sound of Nikolai’s voice. It had barely been twenty-four hours but it had felt like a lifetime.
