Her dark hair tumbles wildly around her shoulders, and I'm struck again by how young she is to carry such heavy burdens.
"I shouldn't be reprimanded for wanting to live my own damn life," she continues. "For wanting to choose who touches me, who I give myself to."
I watch her for a moment, my chest tight in a tug-of-war of emotions.
I want to shield her from this world, yet I know I can't. I want to give her the freedom she craves, but that freedom doesn't exist for either of us.
"Valentina." I rise from the bed, not bothering to cover myself as I approach her. I take her face gently between my hands. "I agree with everything you just said. You deserve freedom. You deserve a choice."
Her eyes search mine, hopeful yet skeptical.
"But that's not the world you were born into." My thumbs stroke her cheekbones, hating that I can’t give her what she deserves but realizing now more than ever that neither of us can do a damn thing to change her fate. "It's not the world I was born into either. We can fight it. We can even win small battles. But pretending the rules don't apply to us will only get us killed faster."
19
VALENTINA
I pull away from Cristian, frustration burning hot.
The most beautiful, perfect moment of my life has been shattered by his bringing reality back.
"I know what world I was born into," I snap. "How could I forget? I’m reminded every day that I have no power. That my value comes from my vagina.”
He winces at the word vagina, which only makes me more angry. “Now you’re repulsed by my vagina? You certainly didn’t mind it a few minutes ago.”
All of a sudden, I want out of this room. It doesn’t feel like the sanctuary it did when we got here.
"I’m sorry for the life you have to live, Valentina. I’d change it for you if you could. Hell knows, I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how to help you, but I’m as powerless to change your life as you are. At least in a way that doesn’t have you looking over your shoulder every second of your life.”
He’s right.
I shouldn’t take out my problems on him, when all he’s been is gentle and protective of me.
He’s risked his life more than once.
I’m selfish and greedy to ask for more.
“You should sleep," Cristian says, his deep voice gentle. "Tomorrow will be difficult enough."
He approaches from behind, his warm hands settling on my shoulders.
The concern I feel through his touch only makes me more frustrated.
Even his comfort feels like another form of control now.
"Don't you get tired of it?" I ask, not turning around. "Having every aspect of your life dictated by someone else's rules?"
"Of course I do," he admits. "But I made my peace with it a long time ago. What’s different is that it’s my choice. I chose this life. You didn’t."
I turn to face him, anger and frustration gone, replaced with defeat. "I don't think I can make peace with it. Not when it means giving myself to a monster."
Cristian pulls me against his chest, and I let him.
His arms are the only safe place I have, and yet another reminder of everything I can't have.
"I just want to choose my own fate," I say. "Just once."
He doesn’t say anything, but what is there to say? Nothing.
