AURORA
Islept without being shackled again last night. Okay, so Liam’s arm was over me the whole time, and I was afraid to move too much, knowing he would wake up and probably tighten his grip. But still. It’s a win.
The thought makes me laugh at myself as I finish brushing my teeth while he dresses in the other room. Like anything about this situation could be considered a win. I must be pretty damn desperate if that’s how I describe it to myself.
I’m coming out of the bathroom, running a brush through my hair, when he stops in the doorway between the bedroom and the hall. Turning around, he looks me up and down. “I think you’ve earned a little entertainment today, while I’m gone.”
I shudder to think what his idea of entertainment is. “Okay…”
He tilts his head to look out into the living room, then crooks a finger to beckon me. Call me hesitant, but I take my time crossing the room.
“Wait a second.” I stop dead in the middle of the doorway, and my mouth falls open in shock at the sight of something inthe living room that definitely wasn’t there last night. “A TV? Where did it come from?”
“The store.” Suddenly, he has a sense of humor. He chuckles when I narrow my eyes. “I ordered it last night, and the guys came in early this morning.” It must’ve been awfully early, seeing as how it’s barely nine o’clock now. I guess when you have enough money and the freedom to use it, you can make surprises happen.
The thing is huge, mounted to the wall. I honestly don’t understand how they made it happen without us waking up, but then I can’t remember the last time I slept so deeply, either. Yesterday was a lot. I guess it was even more exhausting than I thought.
I want to thank him, even if he doesn’t deserve my thanks. Though he did shield me with his own body yesterday. He took a bullet for me. “Thank you,” I murmur, even if I know exactly what I’m thanking him for.
“You’re welcome.” I follow him to the living room, where he hands me the remote. “Happy watching. Make yourself comfortable out here today.”
I can’t help but smile, though I do my best to hide it. It’s been years since anyone did anything nice for me without immediately setting the terms. There’s no such thing as kindness for the sake of kindness—and he is not a kind man. I can’t let myself forget that. But right now, he seems satisfied to let me have free rein of at least this part of the penthouse. I’ll take it. Anything is better than being bored to death for hours on end.
“If you need anything, just ask Maggie,” he says before leaving. Only when he’s in the elevator, out of sight, do I feel free to let out a shaky breath full of relief. Then I spend the morning flipping through streaming services, catching up on shows I fell behind on, keeping my legs elevated since they’re still pretty sore and bruised under my loose pants.
I’m comfortable, I’m relieved to have something to do, but I can’t let myself get totally absorbed by anything on the screen. I’m so grateful, it’s actually almost sad. But I’m also distracted. What’s the price of this little bit of freedom? What is he going to expect from me now?
You don’t grow up with a dad like mine and just accept a gesture. There’s always some kind of angle behind it. I can’t let myself relax too much, and I don’t know who I hate more because of that. Liam, for treating me like a prisoner after forcing me into marriage, or my father for teaching me to be suspicious and always looking over my shoulder.
“Would you like a snack or anything?”
I forgot Maggie was here. She’s so quiet in the kitchen, only occasionally clearing her throat or closing a door barely loud enough for me to hear it. Even then, the sounds sort of faded to the background. It’s nice, normal, homey.
I turn my head to look back at her. Now that she mentions it, I’ve wasted half the day sitting here like this. No wonder my stomach is growling. “I can come get something, if you don’t mind.” My legs are stiff and achy when I lower them, then slowly stand. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”
“I suppose whatever it is you’re watching is interesting enough to make you lose track of time.”
Sure. Let her think that. It’s a lot nicer than admitting I’ve silently obsessed rather than pay attention to anything on TV. The kitchen is cluttered, pleasant, and I look over the canisters, boxes, and bowls on the counter with interest. “You’ve got a lot going on in here.”
“I’m making one of Mr. Knight’s favorites for dinner,” she explains. “Beef Bourguignon.”
My stomach stops growling and starts roaring instead. “That sounds delicious.”
“Have you ever had it?”
“I think so? It sounds familiar.”
I didn’t know I needed her warm smile and understanding look until I saw them. Some of the tension I’m always carrying nowadays loosens, and all of a sudden, I can breathe easier. “Would you like to help me? You don’t have to, but I could always use a little company in the kitchen.”
The question makes me more embarrassed than it should. “I don’t really know much about cooking.”
“You just need someone to show you. I’ll do it. No one is born knowing how.” She makes it sound so simple, so easy. Maybe it is. Just one more part of everyday life I was kept away from. Before I know it, I’m cutting up carrots and onions, while Maggie chops up raw bacon, which she places in a deep pot. “I used to watch my mother cook,” she explains. “I was always so interested in what she was doing. I asked a million questions. It must have driven her mad.”
“Is that how you learned to cook? Or did you go to school for it?”
“I had a little bit of training, but mostly I learned from her. She learned from her mother.”
And what did I learn? It’s kind of a depressing question. I learned never to trust. I learned that you always expect the other shoe to drop. That there’s no such thing as somebody doing something nice out of the goodness of their heart. There’s always an angle. No wonder she looks so much happier than I’ve ever felt.
