“Something you’ll never be,” I simply said, not giving much thought to the impact of my words, earning a gasp from Mikaela and startled huffs from the other women.
“What’s with all the scars?” Trevena chose to drive her bitchy nails deeper, pointing to the marks on Michaela’s arms that the sleeveless dress exposed. “Are you into cutting yourself? That’s sick and ugly.”
I tensed, expecting Mikaela to retreat into her usual shell. “Battle wounds,” she casually replied.
Surprised, I chuckled, loving her answer and Trevena’s loss of words. “Come, let me introduce you to the others.”
As we walked away, I heard Trevena’s, “Jesus, what is Xavier thinking, fucking a child who looks like she was rescued from the streets.”
When my eyes found Mikaela’s, the misery in hers told me she’d heard. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I struggle, sometimes I want to dance, sometimes I want to die. Then there are times I want to cry and times I want to laugh. Until I can do both, I remind myself that loneliness holds a power not many will understand. It taught me to listen to my thoughts, believe in my strength, and ignore anything beyond that circle of happiness I created for myself. Because if I didn’t, I would’ve died a long time ago. Not from loneliness but the pain brought by company I didn’t want.”
Dumbfounded, I stopped walking to stare at her. To say I was speechless was an understatement. Then I remembered Mark’s words.“Judging by these books, she’ll silently watch people then share wisdom she’ll acquire by insight alone.”
“You’re an intelligent girl, Mikaela. Always keep shining.” I kissed her brow. When I lifted my gaze, it connected with a scowling Trevena across the room. Ignoring her, I walked Mikaela around, introducing her to various guests. As long as I stood by her side, she greeted people, offering one or two monosyllabic answers to their questions until Rhett approached us.
“Don’t mind that I crashed your soiree, uncle?”
Rhett was the type of lad who could brighten the room by sheer insolence alone, or if he were in the mood, he’d steal the limelight with his intelligence. My fondness for him overshadowed my earlier annoyance with him accompanying Mikaela to dinner.
“Would I have been able to stop you?” I asked, smiling.
He grinned, offering Mikaela the crook of his arm. “Care to join me for a walk, Mika?”
Mika?
The stirrings of disappointment in my tendons thrived once more. She shifted her gaze to me, seeking approval, immediately calming them. “Go on,” I said.
I watched them move around the room when I felt someone come up next to me. “You’re choosing her over me,” Trevena said quietly.
“You were never a choice, Trevena,” I replied with a small smile before turning away to speak to her father.
I assumed that would’ve pacified her enough to act her age. I was wrong. After John announced dinner, we all strolled into the adjoining dining room. Trevena sidled up to me once more as I stood at the head of the table, waiting for the female guests to take their seats. Just as Mikaela moved to take the seat on my right, Trevena stepped in front of her.
“As an important guest, I take preference. You’ll have to take the one at the end of the table, darling.” Her tone cattish, she pointed to a specific seat even though one was next to her.
It irked me when Mikaela obeyed without question. “Stop, love,” I said, forcing calm into my tone. She paused mid-step to look at me. So did the rest of the table. “Trevena, if you’ll kindly shift to the next seat, asthemost important guest here, IwantMikaela at my side.” My emphasis had Trevena frowning.
For her sake, I hoped she got the subtle message. Annoyed, she moved one seat over, allowing Rhett to take the vacant one between her and Mikaela. Low conversation filtered over the table as the first of the five courses were set down. Yet through it all, one voice rang out.
“You’re using the wrong fork, Mikaela,” Trevena scoffed. “Did your parents not teach you social manners, girl?” She shook her head, fawning for the entire table’s attention.
Mikaela set the fish fork down and looked at her, her innocence sweetly submissive before her gaze found mine. So far, her meals consisted of soup or a sandwich. She never wanted anything else. Silently cursing for forgetting she hadn’t been taught the etiquette behind fine dining, I leaned forward and linked my fingers below my chin. “Which fork would you like to use, Mikaela?”
She bit her bottom lip, uncertainty painting her cheeks an adorable pink at the same time I caught the jerk of Trevena’s head to look at me. Ignoring her, I waited for Mikaela to answer.
“Um...” she glanced around the table, her shoulders pulled up to her ears, tensing, her expression fearful as if she were doing something wrong.
“It’s okay, love,” I coaxed. “Just choose the one you want.”
Trevena gawked, opening her mouth to say something. I shut it with a raised hand, earning a dismal scowl. Next to her, Rhett’s smirk said a lot more than ‘well done, uncle.’
“Can I eat with my fingers, please?” Mikaela drew my gaze, her tone laced with skepticism.
I heard a few whispers of surprise before I answered, “yes, you can.” Her elation apparent, I smiled, then glanced around the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I request that you honor my guest.” Another slew of whispers caught my ear. My voice firm, I looked directly at Trevena before addressing the table again. “If you will please set aside your utensils and eat with your fingers, I’d be much obliged.” Mikaela gasped. I winked at her. Her eyes widened, telling me she’d never received such a casual response. I shifted my gaze to the other side of the table, lifting a questioning brow at Scott, for whom I was hosting the dinner.
Sporty chap that he was, he shrugged with a smile. “Your home, Xavier. I’m just here to sell these greedy bastards some expensive wine.” His response garnered him a hearty laugh from the others.
