“What are you thinking about?”
I blinked, slightly surprised that Alexsei had spoken, much less that he’d asked me that. I’d gotten so lulled by the cracks and pops of the fire and the ugly thoughts of memories in my head that I hadn’t really paid attention to him seated in his chair, reading on his phone.
“Hmm?”
He sat up a bit, shifting his weight to cross his legs. “You look pensive.”
Because I was.
This was another stepping stone. I could tell. I felt the importance of this moment because until now, he hadn’t asked me an open-ended question like that.
Until now, no one had ever asked me for my opinion so casually. Like it was a normal thing to share thoughts with others.
But you can.
He’s not Erik.
He’s not Yusef.
He made an observation and asked a question.
That’s it.
I didn’t know if I could fully trust him, but I found myself wanting to. If he was planning to con me or manipulate me or harm me, wouldn’t he have done it already?
Tell him.
Try.
I cleared my throat. “I was thinking about the happy ending of his story.”
“He hasn’t finished it yet,” he said lightly with a little chuckle.
I appreciated the warm tenderness on his face as he gazed at his sleeping son.
“Well, we both know how it will end,” I replied.
“The guy will get the girl after he slays the dragon.”
I nodded.
“It has me wondering if one of those neat and tidy happily-ever-afters could ever happen to me.”
He sighed, furrowing his brow. “I’m not sure they everhappento anyone. I think peoplemakethem happen.”
I liked that. His perspective suggested participation in making a future what he wanted it to be. That was something I strongly wished to work on. To decidemylife. Not for others to dictate it.
“I want to agree with that,” I said carefully, trying my hardest not to flinch and choke at the risk of speaking my mind. “But I don’t know how to make that happen for myself after all I’ve been through.”
Peeking up at him, so nervous and worried, I was surprised to find him watching me soberly. Not with judgment, no ridicule or expectations. Just listening. “Do you want to talk about what you’ve been through?”
No. I really didn’t. Something about his patient tone and the cozy quiet of the cabin propelled me to take that leap. To open up. To vent and share so that maybe it wouldn’t weigh as heavily on my chest.
“Do you want to hear it?” I asked, focusing on breathing steadily.
He nodded. “Only if you’re ready to share. I won’t pressure you into anything, Kalina.”
He didn’t say the words, but I interpreted his reply as a promise that he wouldn’t expect me to tell him about my captivity in exchange for anything else.
