Chapter 26
Daphne
Something's weighing me down, literally. I feel it press against my sternum, making it impossible to move. For a second I remember the dream I woke up from. I'd been running through a forest, dodging falling branches and splintered tree trunks that fell from above.
My eyes are still closed, my body heavy with exhaustion as I reach up for the log, hoping to push it off me. My fingers traverse smooth skin and my eyes snap open immediately. Alexei's arm is propped over my chest, the dead weight making it hard to move.
I turn to look at him and he's fast asleep. He mumbles something incoherent and buries his face further into the pillow. He looks so utterly at peace. It's hard to imagine this was the same person clutching his head on the bathroom floor last night.
His arm is so heavy, it's like his veins are filled with lead. For a second, I just lie there, staring up at the muted sunlight flickering across the ceiling. But then my stomach growls loudly, and I remember that I have eaten since lunch yesterday.
Food had been the last thing on my mind.
I clutch Alexei's wrist, my fingers barely able to circle it completely. Yesterday feels like a fever dream. Us at the bar, the stranger waiting for us at the penthouse, and Alexei being engaged.
My fingers tighten around his wrist and I push him off me after struggling a bit, not caring if he wakes up. He shifts in place, the sheets swishing around him and I watch as he moves his arm to hug the pillow his face is currently pressed against.
My stomach convulses again and I slowly get out of bed. I need to eat something before my gastric kicks in.
I limp downstairs to the spare room, putting less pressure on my injured foot and quickly wash up before heading to the kitchen. I try to stall the hunger by guzzling down two glasses of water and can't help my disappointment when I search through the fridge.
There's barely anything in here, aside from eggs, bread and bacon. That's all I've been eating since I got here.
I dig around hoping to find something else. There are some tomatoes, an unopened packet of lettuce and some wholegrain wraps lying at the back of the bottom shelf. I sincerely hope nothing is expired because this will have to do.
My friends would be proud that I was able to make a burrito with only these ingredients, plus the eggs and bacon, because there's literally nothing else. I do a double sweep through the cabinets hoping to find some sauce. It's going to taste so bland without some seasoning.
Crunch.
I spin around at the sound. Alexei is seated by the table, my burrito in hand as he bites off a huge chunk of it. My hunger spirals into rage and I head over to grab my food back from him.
"That's mine," I snap and he stands up, holding the plate out of my reach.
"It's good. Make another one." He ignores my beet red face and takes another huge bite.
"Give it back...you...you...you..." I don't know what to say, I'm so angry, I could hit him.
He holds the plate high enough and I jump around like an idiot trying to grab it from him. After a while I give up. I lean against the counter top and glare at him as I catch my breath.
"I hate you," I grumble and turn around to make myself a new plate.
He chuckles to himself and helps hand me the ingredients as I heat up another wrap on the pan.
"Here," he reaches over, brushing my side as he opens the top cabinet and pulls out some salsa sauce. So that's where they were. I see mustard, ketchup and barbecue sauce as well so I reach out and grab them.
Our bodies brush against each other and it's like an invisible force pulls me towards his warmth. I want to succumb to it until it burns me. I wonder if he feels it too, because he doesn't move away. Instead he looks down at me, an imperceptible look in his eyes.
And then I remember that he's engaged.
I tear myself away and focus on preparing my food, trying my best to ignore him. He sits down at the table and I can hear him scarfing down the burrito like it's the tastiest thing he's ever eaten.
"You should really stock up your fridge. There's barely anything inside." I say as I carefully roll the wrap, wincing when some ingredients pour out of it.
"I rarely eat at home, but if you're cooking, sure. Let me know what you need."
It's the first time he's ever agreed with me so easily that I do a double take.
The two of us share a look and the whole thing feels so domestic that I'm suddenly awkward. I clear my throat and move to sit across from him.
"So are you going to tell me what happened to you last night?" I ask, deciding to change the topic. I have so many questions, I need to pace them out.
"It's nothing. Just a headache I get now and then." He gets up then and heads over to the sink. His back is to me as he washes his plate at the pace of a snail. It's clear he wants to avoid this conversation.
"That didn't look like a headache to me," I mutter and then bite into my burrito. God, I'm so hungry that this is the tastiest thing I've had in years. "If I were you, I'd get a brain scan." I say between mouthfuls.
He laughs at this and turns around, crossing his arms over each other. His smile is devastating and the muscles in his forearms flex as he stares at me. Suddenly, my mouth goes dry and I have to gulp down some water.
"I appreciate your concern, but my brain is fine. I've had this problem for years." He winks at me. "Never found anything on the scans, or blood tests."
I focus on my food, not wanting him to see how relieved I am at hearing that.
Alexei sits down again and he puts his hand out, looking like he's reaching for me but then he stops mid way across the table. "I'm sorry if I was rude to you last night. I wasn't expecting a guest. I was caught off guard and didn't want you in the cross fire."
"Who was he?" I try my luck, wiping the edge of my mouth with my thumb. Alexei's eyes trail my movements, lingering on my lips for a few seconds before he looks up at me.
"Someone who was not invited over." He grunts and when he sees me struggling to swallow the last bite I took, he pushes the glass of water closer. "Can't you pace yourself? The food isn't going anywhere."
I swallow it down gratefully, but I'm not satisfied with his answer. "You're really not going to tell me who it was?"
There must be something on my cheek because he reaches out and brushes it away with his thumb. But he doesn't remove his hand after, instead he strokes my skin.
"Daphne," he sighs. "The less you know about us, the better it is for you."
"No, it's not," I argue weakly. Everything inside of me is screaming to give in. I want to lean into his touch so badly, it hurts. I put my hand over his and reluctantly pull him away.
"You're engaged," I say lowly, heart thumping in apprehension. Inside, I'm hoping, praying that he'll laugh like I misunderstood everything. That last night had meant something to him, not just me.
His eyes widen for a second, like he's been caught and my stomach plummets, sinking into the floor. His lips purse and he pulls away from me before straightening up.
"Yes."
That one word shatters everything inside of me. We've kissed. We've slept in the same bed. We've done things that I've never done with anyone else.
And this whole time, he's been engaged.
The confirmation feels like a punch to the gut. I stand up on shaky legs and head over to the sink, wanting to put some distance between us.
I hear him shuffling behind me, feel his presence before he closes the space between us.
"Daphne..." He trails off and I shut my eyes tightly as they burn. I feel his hand on my shoulder and immediately whip around, pushing him away. Which is kind of useless since he's like a wall who barely moves an inch when I press my palms against his chest.
"Please," I beg and his face falls, the turmoil in his dark blue eyes a storm I can't decipher. "Please just leave me alone."
The silence is stifling as he stares at me and my hands bunch into fists against him.
He finally relents and backs away, but the sudden emptiness between us is somehow even worse. I look away, pretending to busy myself with cleaning up until he finally leaves, leaving me alone in the kitchen.