Mrs. Montoni’s words from the previous day crash through me.You don’t know him. You don’t see what I see.
He could do anything to me right now. Anything at all. And I couldn’t stop him.
I thought Cristiano was kind. Thoughtful. Gentle. But all this time, I only saw what he wanted me to see.
And now he’s holding me down like an animal.
He is his father’s son after all.
The fight drains out of me, like water from a broken vessel. I go limp in his arms. Silent tears stream down my face, soaking into his palm, my body shaking with quiet, hopeless despair.
“Will you listen to me now?”
I don’t respond. I can’t. There’s nothing left inside me. No anger, no fear, no fight. Only emptiness.
“Mina?” Cristiano’s grip loosens slightly. “Mina? Please say something. Please look at me.”
He removes his hand from my mouth, but I don’t scream. What would be the point?
He shifts us so he’s sitting up, leaning over me. His hands come up to cup my face, turning it toward him, and I let him. I’m a rag doll. A broken thing. I cry silently, my shoulders trembling.
“I’m sorry.” He wipes my tears away with trembling fingers. “I didn’t mean to— I never wanted to—”
He breaks off, breathing fast.
“I just can’t lose you,” he whispers. “I can’t. You’re everything to me. The only good thing in my life.”
“I was worried about you. That’s why I came here.” My voice comes out flat. Dead. It doesn’t sound like me. “Isn’t that funny?”
His head bows, and I feel him deflate. All the desperate energy draining away.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened just now. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just—”
He stops. Swallows.
I don’t respond.
His hands are on my face, still wiping away tears that won’t stop falling.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, Mina. I’ve loved you since we were children.”
I finally look at him. Really look at him. The boy I’ve known my whole life. The boy I held in my arms. The boy I kissed in the garden.
I don’t recognize him anymore.
“Don’t ever come near me again,” I whisper.
His face crumbles. “Mina.”
“Don’t.” I pull away from him, my limbs heavy and clumsy, and rise to my feet. My legs are shaking so badly I can barely stand. “Just don’t.”
I turn and walk toward the door.
“Mina, please.”
I don’t look back.
The door opens. The hallway stretches before me, endless and blurred through my tears.
