Just speak to me.
When I don't say anything, she reaches out and snatches the box angrily. The lid falls to the floor when she pops it off.
Inside is a gold chain and a tiny gold rabbit pendant holding a bright, glittering diamond in its tummy. Hanging with the rabbit is a long silver sword made of titanium, symbolizing her strength, and also inlaid with diamonds.
I smile.
"It's because you are sweet, but feisty. Never to be underestimated," I muse.
She huffs loudly, shaking her head.
"Why would you do this, Bardil?" she demands, standing up to retrieve the fallen lid. She snatches it off the floor and pushes it back onto the box.
Her eyes are bright with anger when she grabs my hand and holds it palm up, then pushes the box into my hand.
"I don't want anything from you," she snaps.
Nikita climbs back onto her bed, sitting down and picking up the book again. I leave the little box on her bedside table and walk out of her room. Half of me is thrilled to have felt her touch. Her fingers on my hand. To have heard her voice. The other half is thinking that the gift wasn't enough, and I need to try harder.
That evening, when Nikita comes downstairs to get herself something to eat, the entire foyer is filled with the reddest roses. She has to walk through them to get to the kitchen. Some are so tall they tower over her, others crowd the floor at her feet.
Along the way, she spots a card with her name on it and plucks it from the bouquet to read it. I watch from the living room. Tense.
"Sorry?" she scoffs loudly. She shakes her head and tosses the card onto the floor. In a rage, she kicks at the flowers, shoving them out of her way. When she turns to glance over her shoulder, sensing my eyes on her, I see tears running down her cheeks.
I'll try again tomorrow. I won't stop trying.
And day after day for over two weeks, I do my best to win her back. But she rejects everything.
The longer I can't reach her and pull her back toward me, the more it makes me lose my mind.
There has to be a way. There has to be something.
Maybe I shouldn't be buying her gifts, and I should be talking to her instead.
Maybe I should justtellher. Speak to her from my heart. Explain to her how sorry I am.
That night, I lie awake, running over and over the things I want to say to her. I can't get them in the right order or make them come out in a way that doesn't make me seem crazy.
I practice for hours until I fall asleep, exhausted.
But the next day, Nikita had her bedroom door closed.
My instincts tell me that if I push too hard against her boundaries, she'll hate me even more, so I try my best to be respectful.
All day, I wait patiently for her to come out for something to eat or to walk around the garden like she enjoys doing. Or to choose a new book from the library. But she doesn't. It's late afternoon, early evening actually, almost dinner time, and she still hasn't left her room even once.
I can't take it anymore. An entire day without even seeing her has me breaking down completely.
Giving in, unable to give her the privacy she's clearly after, I try the handle and find it locked. My heart constricts with worry.
What is going on?
"Nikita, open this door immediately," I demand, banging my fist on the door, my voice heated with stress, making me sound angry. I take a breath and try again. "Nikita, are you ok in there? Please, let me in."
The silence is deafening.
She says nothing, and my blood boils. The panic gives me no other option, and I slam my shoulder against the door, close to the lock. It splinters and opens on the first try. The door swings and I catch it before it slams against the wall.
