Page 54 of Keep

And then I slept.

THIRTY-ONE

Fawn

Three Months Later

I took a deep breath and then knocked on the door. He’d told me I didn’t have to do that, but what he said and how I felt were seldom the same thing, not when his words welcomed me with open arms but his voice, his body, his ice-cold eyes told me to stay away.

He opened the door and stood in the entryway, looking down at me with a frown and question on his face. He seemed the same physically, imposing form, cold expression, but he was burdened now, changed, and even though I couldn’t imagine all the things he’d seen and done in his life, I could see that he was different, weighed upon.

I planned to do my part to lift at least some of that burden.

“I’m going to Esther’s,” I said.

“One of the men will take you. Stay as long as you want.”

He turned, but stopped when I spoke. “No, Vasile. I’m going and I’m staying.” He looked at me, seemed to notice for the first time the bag that I held in my hand. He focused on it and I saw a fleeting flash of regret across his face. But then his expression closed, and he shut down completely.

“It’s probably for the best. I’ll have someone watch the house.”

And then he again turned to walk away, but I stood rooted in my spot, frozen. I knew I was doing him a favor by removing myself, but to hear him so casual, almost relieved, broke what little was left of my heart.

My vision watered, and the room went blurry.

“You want this. Why are you crying?” he asked, sounding as if he was inquiring about the weather or some other mundane concern.

“Why wouldn’t I cry? There’s so much to cry about,” I said.

“Like what?” he said, voice flat.

Anger, burst through the pain, sharp and stinging.

“We almost lost her, Vasile! Our daughter, Maria. You remember her, don’t you? She’s in the hospital, but she’s coming here soon, back to what was supposed to be our home,” I said, voice hitching.

He visited her every day, but when we were inside these walls, he acted like I, like she didn’t exist. Had even emptied her nursery. “Just in case,” he’d said, like not having her stuff here meant I wouldn’t get attached, that he wouldn’t get attached. He’d shoved her into a box, tried to keep himself distant so it wouldn’t hurt as much if she didn’t make it. Seemed he was trying to do the same to me.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, voice harsh, icy eyes filled with pain.

“Too late.”

He had come back to me, and through watery eyes I could see the serious expression on his face, the anger that was the first sign of life that I had seen in him for months. As then I was grateful for even that, welcomed any sign that the person who had captured my heart might still, somewhere, exist.

“You know I don’t like that, Fawn,” he said, voice edging dangerously.

“Why does it matter? I was stupid, stupid to think I had a chance,” I said.

“You have a chance. And he won’t ever hurt you again.”

“He doesn’t have to hurt me—he’s done his worst. He almost took my daughter from me. He did take you away from me. He won.”

I met his eyes and was shocked to see surprise there.

“Me?”

“He did, didn’t he? You don’t look at me. You don’t talk to me. You pretend like I’m not even here. So I may as well not be.”

His face dropped, something almost like confusion crossing his features, so unlike him.