"You really should come to dinner at the house," Sabine is saying. "Mama's been wanting to host you properly. She's an incredible cook when she wants to be, and I'd love to show you what we've done with the garden since Anton died."
"I appreciate the offer," Roman says, but it's his cordial voice. He's not being friendly. That gives me some modicum of relief. "I'll keep it in mind."
Sabine chuckles and says, "A girl might start to think you're avoiding her."
"I'm not avoiding anyone. I've been busy." Roman doesn't sound apologetic, though I'm sure Sabine doesn't care. She's too much like her mother to allow herself to get carried away with emotion. She's here playing a part she's been trained to play, nothing more. It makes me so mad.
"Too busy for me?" she asks, and there's a pause that lasts long enough for me to wonder what's happening. I picture her doingthe same crap Sofi did, sitting on his lap draping her arms around him like she owns him. It causes rage to boil up in my chest, but I suck in a breath to calm myself. If I could see what she's doing, I'd feel better.
Then Roman speaks again, and I realize he's been chewing. I hear him start speaking as if a glass is right in front of his mouth, then the glass clinks on the table.
"I want to invite you and your sister and your mother to a gala I'm hosting in a month. It's a benefit for the local hospital, a cause I care about, and it'll be a proper black tie event. The whole city will be there."
"Oh, goodness, you're hosting the gala?" Sabine's voice lifts in surprise, and I remember that night I was trying to speak with Vera about something important when Sofi and Sabine rushed in whining about the gala. "That sounds wonderful." Of course he would invite them.
It makes my chest deflate even more as I push away. This isn't Vera forcing them on him. This is him willingly inviting them out. Roman is making strides to put them in his sphere of influence, and that means he's seriously considering marrying one of them.
How could he do this to me?
The voices on the other side of the door are muffled now, unintelligible, and I continue backing away until I'm out of earshot, then I turn and walk toward the kitchen.
I have no control over a man twice my age who runs his own empire. I can't make him notice that every time he kisses me, it shapes more of my thoughts and makes me want him. And I can't change his plan, either. He wants to take over my familyempire. He doesn't want a wife. I can see by the way he speaks to those two that he's not truly interested in marrying them. It's all a power move.
But I'm right here. He puts his hands on my body, asks me to lie in his bed with him at night, and I'm the one with the real power. Though, I'd never want him to marry me just to get at my family fortune, either, which only makes it all the more real to me that something between me and Roman can never happen. It almost makes me want to cry.
Rebecca is still at the counter when I come through the kitchen door. She's moved on from the dough to chopping onions, and her eyes are red and watering and she looks up at me and sets the knife down.
"What's wrong with you?" she asks, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Nothing." I pull a chair out from the small table near the window and sit down and press the heels of my palms into my eye sockets to keep the emotion at bay.
Sorin says, "She's pale." Then I hear rustling which I try to block out. I should've gone to my room, not come back here.
"I can see she's pale." Rebecca comes around the counter and pulls the chair beside mine and I hear her sit. "Talk to me. What happened?"
"Nothing happened. I'm having a bad day." I lower my hands and still feel the sting of tears, but the urge to cry is past.
"Is it your father?" Rebecca's voice lowers to a whisper. "You're allowed to miss him, you know. That doesn't go away." I told them a few weeks ago when I cried over some horrible thing Verasaid to me that it was about my father. They still don't know why I'm here or why Roman promoted me. They only know what I tell them, and all I do is lie. I feel sad about that, that I can't be real and get real comfort.
But what would they say if I told them I'm in love with Roman and he's courting two women I hate?
"Yes," I say, because it's the only answer I can give her. "I miss him today."
Rebecca puts her hand on my back and rubs a slow circle between my shoulder blades, and Sorin turns back to her pot and stirs without another word.
If only I could be free to tell them everything, I know they'd give me excellent advice. But I won't tarnish Roman's reputation in any way. It's not the right thing to do any more than it would be to tell Roman every horrible thing Vera ever did. I would never want anyone talking badly about me. I know exactly how painful that is. So I won't do it to him, either.
When the tears come again, at the idea that Sabine may just be the one Roman chooses, her business sense and all, Rebecca offers the corner of her apron and lets me cry it out. And it feels good.
I usually hold it all in, bottle it up and pretend I'm fine.
But I'm not fine. I love Roman and I want him to know it, and I want it to make a difference in the choice he makes.
But I want him to want me back. And I want it to be real. Not a business arrangement or an obligation. I want what I've always wanted. Love and a family. And I will not settle for less.
He can have the empire if that's all he wants.
Let him have Sabine too.
