“Alright, I’ll believe you.” She walks back to the counter and lifts the pot into the sink. “What you went through...it was terrible. I’m sorry you had to see that. You should be asleep, getting all the rest you need. Why are you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” The single word holds more weight than anything else she’s said this past minute. It’s like an unspoken understanding of the burden that weighs on my shoulders. She doesn’t say much, but I understand the contorted expression on her face.
I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Tati...”
She turns around, wearing a pout that should be a sign of her displeasure, but it makes her look super adorable instead. She crosses her arms over her flower-patterned nightdress and crosses one leg over the other as she leans against the counter.
“None of this is your fault…or your brother’s,” I say softly, hoping she gets that I would never resent her or Leo for anything. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
“Not listening?” I shudder, suddenly replaying the argument I had with him about not needing extra security, not wanting to be trapped in his world.“He knows more than I do. He’s an experienced man; he’s seen it all. He knows how this...thisworldworks. Your brother tried to protect me…and I guess that’s what he’s been trying to do this entire time. I just didn’t see it, and I feel ashamed for not trusting him.”
Her shoulders lower and the guilt slowly fades from her gaze. “You’re not at fault for any of this. Heck.” She lets out a laugh. “If I were in your shoes, I’d probably do a lot worse. I’d demand to be released and sent back to my life. Sheesh, I’d be totally unbearable.”
“I doubt it. You’re too adorable to be unbearable.”
Tatianna waves away my teasing with a smile, and then her eyes turn serious. She flicks her braid over her shoulder. “But Leo is my brother, so I believe I’m in the best position to say he’s fiercely protective over people he cares about. And he does care about you, Elena, a whole lot. I’m not going to lie—sometimes he’s over the top, but it’s not without good reason.”
She bites her lip and I sense she has more to say, so I don’t interrupt her.
“When a man like him lives through numerous losses in his life, he’ll automatically do all it takes to make sure he keeps his family breathing. As long as it’s something he can control, he’ll do so, unapologetically.”
Maybe months ago, even after listening to Tatiana talk about Leo dealing with the losses in his life, I would have still called my abductor a monster and a control freak.
Not now. Not anymore.
Tatianna offers me an encouraging smile and shrugs when she says, “Just talk to him. Be honest about your feelings instead of burying the guilt. That’s my advice.”
I attempt to stifle the smile that quickly forms on my mouth. “Interesting advice. Honestly, this entire session has been life-changing. You ever considered becoming a therapist?”
She smirks. “Actually, yeah! Sounds pretty dope for a career option. I have thought about it, and who knows? I could sign you and Leo up as my first clients.”
“He needs it a lot more than I do.”
Tatiana gasps. “Elena! That’s so not nice.”
“But you know it’s true!”
Tatiana and I continue bickering in the kitchen until we finally settle on preparing a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and maple syrup, all before the sun rises.
The rest of the day is spent calmly, with Tati doing everything—including talking about movie stars and introducing me to funny games—just to take my mind off the disastrous events of the previous day. Her insistence and determination pay off, because soon we’re singing our heads off to songs we only partly know, passionately hitting off-key notes while doing karaoke at dusk.
Later that night, after a hot bath and a sober reflection on the current reality that is my life, I put on one of Leo’s big black shirts and amble over to the balcony to look at the stars.
I cross my arms on the railing, letting the cold night air bite at the exposed parts of my skin and whisk my damp hair behind my back. Behind me, I hear the door creak open and click shut, and a flutter erupts in my chest.
“Elena?”
He’s back.
The subtle hint of concern in his deep baritone ripples over my skin and causes my toes to curl. “Over here,” I call back.
In the quiet night, I hear heavy footsteps muffled against the rug as he advances like a soldier on a mission. The second he steps onto the balcony, his familiar scent wraps around me like a vise—cedar and musk, with a tinge of sweat and exhaustion.
I turn around, and sure enough, there are stress lines between his brows and a frown on his hard mouth. “It’s cold out here. You’re barely covered up.”
