The Bars Between Us

45. The Lion's Grown Tame?

The next morning when I wake, I momentarily forget where I am, and that I decided to return home, so when I see Roman sitting in the bed next to me, I nearly roll right out of it. I don't know what's shocked me more, the fact that I forgot, or the fact that Roman is still in bed with me. It's a Friday, not that the day matters because Roman would be in the prison no matter the day, so I would expect him to have already left. He always leaves before I wake up.

"Morning," he greets. There's no sign of any emotion on his face, so I have a hard time reading the situation. Has he gone back to the Roman that he's always been?

"Morning," I greet, not looking directly at him, afraid he'd turn me to stone if I did. He twists, reaching for something on the nightstand. When he turns back around, he's a lot more cautious, and I glance at his hands to see that he's holding a mug.

"I don't know if it's still warm," he murmurs, and I realize that he's as nervous about the situation as I am. I offer an olive branch in taking it, but I still don't look up to his eyes when I thank him. The mug is room temperature, and after a cautious sip thinking that he must have down something to it, I find that it's a perfect drinking temperature. This is another thing that he never does. The last time he woke before me to get me breakfast in bed was... well... probably the first day of the honeymoon. It all went downhill after that. Forgive me if this time I'm a tad cautious about what this cup of coffee will lead onto.

I tap my fingernails on the side of the mug, not sure how to move forward with today. It's not a question of if he has an ulterior motive, but more of what it is, and why he's doing this. Is it to get me to put y guards down so he can reel me right back in, and start up the abuse again? Is it a sick game that he's playing, to see me possibly fall for him again, and then to pull the rug out from under me, and see me fall even further?

"Dee..." he starts. He groans, brushing his hair back from his forehead. I give him the courtesy of looking him in the eyes, noticing that he's hesitant to say whatever is on his mind. I want to play this out, and see where it takes me. No matter what happens, I'm not going to be drawn back in. Not without good reason to trust that he's not going to hurt me again. I don't know what I need to see to trust him again, and maybe that's my answer. I shouldn't trust him.

His steel-blue eyes meet mine, and the steeliness of them has seemed to have melted. It makes him look softer, and like the vulnerable boy that I knew when I fell in love with him.

"I really am sorry," he mutters, leaning in, his shoulder touching mine. I flinch, and Roman notices, he stares at my face, his eyebrows drawing in over his eyes. He moves back, moving his arm so it couldn't touch me in any way. His lips twitch, but his eyes don't smile with the movement.

I gulp down the rest of the liquid, it now being a lot cooler than it was. I bring the empty mug down from my lips, and Roman immediately acts, offering his hand for the mug.

I place the mug on his open palm, and Roman pushes the covers back, taking the mug with him.

"What do you want for breakfast?" he asks, turning when he gets to the door.

"You don't have to..." I offer, starting to go after him. I'm so scared that he'll turn on me if I leave him to do it. Is it a test?

"No, it's fine," he says, waving me off.

"Don't you have to be in the prison?" I ask, sitting back down.

"No, I've taken the day off. I wanted to make it up to you, today, and I know it's going to take more than one day, but one is a start." It nearly bowls me over. Since when does he take days off, when he's not ill. I don't know which person I'm more afraid of, the nice one or the abuser? And do I want to spend a whole day with him?

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