Adrik
When I claimed her, that was it. I made her mine and betrayed her. She longed for a story that wasn't mine to narrate, so I did the only thing a man like me would-I sent her back. Little did I know the secret she was keeping. The worst of all...
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I can't deal with this sore heart any longer than I have these past five days. I'm tired—my eyes are strained and swollen, my limbs torn apart, or it feels like it, and I think I've gotten influenza. That's not good.
I twisted and turned until I sat upright, and the mess before me made me wince and sigh. Used tissue paper is on the duvet, and the water Greta brought me is untouched.
Is this what my life has become because of a man who couldn't look me in the eye and say I love you? My eyes started to cloud with fresh tears when the door slammed open, and an irritated Greta stepped in. Here we go again. It happened yesterday and the day before.
She matched furiously to the curtains and yanked them to the sides; I swore they tore and winced when the sunlight hit my face. "Get up." She chastises, causing me to roll my eyes. "And enough of that!"
"I don't feel too well. I feel like a lousy dog in the streets." I groaned, faking it because I didn't feel like dealing with this nonsense.
"Well, too bad you're not in the streets, and if it weren't for you refusing to eat, drink or at least leave this bed, you wouldn't feel like a lousy dog, so get up."
"I leave this bed!" I gasped, slipping back beneath the covers.
"I'm not arguing with you today, Giulia. I am tired of watching you like this, and if I don't do something about it, it won't be good for any of us."
"Us? I'm the sufferer because the man I love sent me away!" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. My chest rose and fell, and my heart thudded in my ears as the room fell silent.
"Giulia—"
"No," I warned. "You're right. I will have a shower, although I planned on taking one after I finished sulking." I shoved the covers away and started to gather my mess of five days.
"If you can't talk to me, Giulia. I cannot help you."
"Can't you see, Greta? No one can help me. What? Can you go back ten years to prevent the nightmares that haunted me? Or three months ago so I wouldn't meet Adrik Mikhailov?" His full name on my lips shattered me. He wanted to break me until I bled or until I was nothing but putty beneath his fingers. He won so mercilessly, and I lost, thinking he could care for me more than he let out. I wanted to hate him so badly.
"Tell me, Giulia. I am lost; I don't understand because you speak in broken lines. I force myself to believe he hurt you because you've changed." I looked at her with teary eyes. "He is the king sitting at the top of that throne, Giuls. He is ruthless, the most feared man in Russia and cold-blooded to every goddamn shit in this world. Now you're telling me you love him." Oh, we're no different to loving the same men, Greta. The retort was on my tongue, but I swallowed it as I turned to make this bed.
"He hurt me," I took a deep breath to stop crying. "The night he took me."
"I'm sorry, Giuls." Greta's whisper echoed through me. "I'm so sorry."
