“Things will sort themselves out, don’t worry.”
Later that night, I was eating another plate of the carrots Liza brought me when Konstantin arrived. Greta and I had been talking in the sitting room while watching an old rom-com, but she excused herself to go check something in the kitchen. And that was when he came in, with the bald man following after him, per usual.
I considered ignoring him, but since the couch I occupied was facing the entrance door, doing that would mean his arrival affected me. And I’d rather carry a backpack of rocks than admit.
I won’t greet first, though.
If he deems it fit not to, I won’t either.
With my eyes fixed on the television and my upper body relaxed into the leather couch, I didn’t turn my head towards him
“Alina,” he called, making me turn to the side in time to see the bald man nod at him and walk towards the stairs. He looked weary but handsome in his dark jeans and black leather jacket, which was unzipped, revealing the white shirt beneath. “You’re still up.”
“I am,” I replied in a flat tone.
“You should go to bed. It’s very late.”
“I’m a nurse who works night shifts. Orwas,” I answered, looking pointedly at him. “What is it to you if I don’t sleep at all, anyway?”
“You—” he started before I cut in.
“I won’t drop dead from exhaustion, so your great investigation can go on. Happy now?”
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his displeasure was clear.
As if I care.
“Alina,” he uttered, his voice cooler than I’d expected.
“Stop calling my name!”
He opened his mouth but closed it again. His eyes darted from me to the stairwell and back to me. Then he left the sitting room and went up the stairs, the only sound coming from the somewhat violent breaking of carrots into my mouth.
A few minutes later, when Greta received Hans’ message about the boss being ready for his dinner, I went up to my room. Needing to calm myself down, I took my time showering, brushing my hair, and changing into a pair of pajamas.
From where I sat at the foot of the bed, I heard his boots approach and stop at my door again. And then he left. Again.
I swallowed, feeling the irritation I carried from the living room rise within me again. I was further irritated because I couldn’t pinpoint why. I shouldn’t have any reason to feel the way I did. But I did.
**********
Showing up at my door but never knocking, let alone coming in, had become a norm for Konstantin in the past few days. I would say it never bothered me—or at least, that it had stopped bothering me—to anyone who asked, but that would be far from the truth. Every night that he came to my door and retreated, filled me with more questions than answers. Questions that our brief and accidental encounters only propagated.
“Good morning, Alina,” Konstantin greeted, his stormy blue eyes holding mine hostage as he pulled me out of my thoughts, making me pause on the stairs.
He was nursing a cup of what I perceived to be coffee by the window of the dining room.
“Morning,” I answered, descending the stairs and hugging my sweater-clad body.
“How did you sleep?” he inquired, turning around to fully face me as I approached the dining table.
“Stop asking me those stupid questions. It’s not like we have an audience or anything,” I chided, pulling a chair back to sit.
He was beside me in a minute.
“This is your seat. You’re the lady of the manor. My wife,” he declared, pulling the chair next to the head of the table out.
My annoyance surged. The only thing that kept me from yelling in his face or kicking the damn chair away was that I didn’t want him to think he had that power. So, I heaved a sigh and sat.
