For once, he does what I say.
Then I begin to move. I let the familiar motions fill my body. I spin for him. I arabesque for him. I pirouette for him.
I dance for him.
Mikhail doesn’t look away from me once. I want to sink into his gaze and never leave it. I want to know he cares for me. That maybe he loves me, too. Mikhail is a man of action, not words.
But I need to hear the words if I’m ever to fully trust him with my heart. I can’t tell him how I feel unless I know how he feels.
I finish the dance with a bow.
“That was beautiful. You’re exquisite. Just like you were when I first saw you dance. It was the first time I ever saw you.”
I blush at his compliment. It amazes me that I can still blush after everything we’ve been through together. “The first time I saw you was at the funeral. You scared me,” I admit.
“I tend to scare people. After Alexei died … I made myself the scariest I could be.”
I stand between his legs and place my hand over his heart. “You don’t have to be scary with me, Mikhail. You can be vulnerable.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It can be.”
He cups my hand with his. “For you, maybe. Not for me.”
“Don’t push me away again,” I whisper. “I can’t take it.” I place his hand over my stomach, and he inhales sharply. “I could be pregnant. I don’t even know. But one day, I want to be. And I need to know that I can fully trust you. I know you’ll take care of me, but what about our future child? Or my sisters? I need to know, Mikhail. Please.”
He grabs my hips and pulls me in closer to him. “I will protect your sisters. I know that now. I will never make you doubt me again. As for our future child … I will protect him or her. You have to know that.”
“But will you be able to love him or her?” Will you be able to love me?
“I will try. That’s the best I can offer right now.”
Mikhail doesn’t know it, but he’s breaking my heart. I can’t force him to love me or our child. I just wish he would.
“Ok,” I whisper, holding back more tears. I didn’t think it was possible for me to cry this much.
“Now, let us go to bed.”
“Will you stay tonight?”
“I will stay tonight,” he says.
That’s something, but it doesn’t wash away my sadness.
Unsurprisingly, when I wake up the next morning, Mikhail is gone. And when I go downstairs, Mary tells me he’s left. Of course, I don’t even know for what. Mikhail doesn’t share much information about what exactly he does. I think it might be better if I don’t always know.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?” I ask.
Mary sneers at me. “Do I look like a clock? I have no idea. Mr. Ivanov will return when he wants to return.”
“Look, Mary, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have fought with you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” She’s flattening dough with a rolling pin.
“I’m not expecting an apology from you, even though you were the one to slap me.” I know it’s petty. I know Mikhail expects better of me, but when it comes to Mary, I just can’t help myself. She drives me insane.
“I slapped you because you were acting like a brat.”
Her words feel like another slap. Between crying all night, Mikhail spanking me, and him telling me he couldn’t even guarantee loving our future child, I am exhausted.
And I am tired of Mary acting horribly when I’ve done nothing to her.
Instinct takes over me, and I grab the rolling pin from her hands and smack it against her arm. She cries out, backing away from me.
“I am tired of your attitude,” I hiss at her. “You can tell Mikhail about this all you want. I don’t care. But I am done, Mary. Done.” I toss the rolling pin to the ground. It’s satisfying to watch Mary flinch when I do it. “You will treat me with respect, or I will hit you again with that rolling pin. Look at it as karma. You hit me; I hit you back. Now, do your damn job and leave me alone.”
I leave the kitchen, feeling like a badass. I’ve never had the confidence to tell someone off before. It’s exhilarating.
It’s freeing.
I find Vik and Mila in the living room, watching TV.
“You look oddly happy,” Vik comments, muting the TV.
“That’s because I just stood up for myself. Mary won’t bother me again.”
