Chapter 16 - Nikita #2
His caring coaxes a weird sensation from me, a need to please him. I pick up another slice and bite into it. His eyes are warm as he watches me.
"My brother, Simon… gosh, he'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this," Bardil laughs, a deep heartfelt laugh that rumbles from his chest. "Talia's soap-making obsession got more and more creative, and she bought a bunch of different molds and started making soaps shaped like things.
A heart. A sun. A strawberry. Our bathroom was filled with these weird, half-melted, oddly shaped things.
Sometimes you had to guess what it was, and she'd get offended if you didn't know.
That was… until she made a chocolate-shaped soap.
Man, that soap literally looked like a bar of chocolate.
It was really cool. She was proud of it, too. "
"She's never told me about her soap fetish," I laugh, taking another bite.
"She won't. Because if she mentions it now, Simon gets upset. You see, her chocolate soap was so good that he took a bite of it."
"He didn't," I gasp in horror, pulling a sour face. He gets so excited he drops his pizza and sits up straighter. His eyes are wide and full of amusement.
"Oh, he did. And he chewed it a good number of times before his brain caught up with his impulsive need to steal someone else's chocolate. He was swearing for weeks."
Bardil is laughing loudly now, and I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from choking on pizza when I start laughing too.
He sighs, leaning back against the headboard and picking up his pizza again.
"Did Talia carry on making soap?" I ask.
"Yes, for another year or so before she got bored with that phase and moved on to something else. But I still have the oil burner, and I always have certain essential oils in my home."
"And Simon?" I grin.
"Simon has this weird dislike for chocolate," he laughs again.
"What was Marlen like growing up?" I ask, wondering if it's safe to mention his older brother.
Bardil sighs, a quiet smile on his face.
"Marlen was always the oldest. I mean that in the sense that he was always the one in charge, and he knew it.
He needed us to listen to him, you know.
If we didn't, he would get upset. But then, on the other hand, he's a born leader.
He knew how to talk to people from a really young age.
He was compassionate and understanding and could negotiate like a fucking boss.
Jeez. I don't know how he does it. He can stay calm through almost anything. That's a skill I never had."
"Staying calm?" I ask.
"Staying calm… staying out of trouble… " he sighs.
"I have a bad habit of making impulsive choices that get me into a whole lot of trouble.
I lost my path somewhere along the line.
In my late twenties, I got greedy. A little too focused on money instead of what really matters in life.
I made the wrong friends. Hung out with the wrong people.
I trusted them. They made me feel like family.
When they betrayed me, it felt like the world was ripped out from beneath my feet.
It hurt. And from then on, I kept making the wrong choices by trusting the wrong people.
I get betrayed over and over again, and it never seems to end. "
Bardil fidgets with his pizza for a moment, then bites into it, his heart heavy with memories.
I reach out and touch his arm. "We've all been there, Bardil. You don't have to be angry with yourself for making mistakes. It's not your fault they weren't good people. How were you supposed to know? Especially not when you're young. I do it all the time."
He smiles, his eyes boring into me. "You didn't make the same mistakes I made. I was selfish. And I guess I got the karma I deserved."
"So was I. When I snuck out, I went directly against what my brothers expected from me.
What they pleaded from me. They just wanted me to be safe.
And look where I ended up," I shrug, grinning at him, trying to show him he's not alone.
"And I think I was pretty selfish because they're the ones worried…
" My voice trails off. I swallow hard, realizing how easy it is to mess up and hurt the people you love.
Bardil takes my hand in his and looks down at his fingers threaded through mine.
"You're an amazing person, Nikita. Compassionate and caring. Don't think that any of this was your fault. It was mine." He can't look at me when he says this, and my heart breaks for him.
I study his face. His quiet penance.
It's not the first time I've seen this softness in him.
All of his anger and vengeance have faded away in this moment, and I realize it was only ever there to hide his hurt.
He's fighting the people who betrayed him.
His anger is his shield because he doesn't know how else to deal with that betrayal.
He got hurt. Badly.
It turned him into this version of himself, hell-bent on revenge, even though it's not the real him. The real version of him is someone who loves his family and speaks of them as though they mean the world to him.
I push my pizza box aside and lift his arm, draping it around my shoulders so I snuggle against him.
"I feel much better after eating and being comfortable in these fresh sheets," I whisper, closing my eyes.
He sighs, content and calm as he wraps his arm tighter around me.
"Thank you, Bardil," I whisper sleepily.
"It's my pleasure, little rabbit," he whispers back, then leans down to kiss the top of my head.
***
In the morning, Bardil is still in my bed. The pizza boxes are on the floor next to my bed, and he's holding me against his body while he breathes deeply, still dreaming.
I wiggle free so I can stretch my legs out. To my relief, they no longer ache, and my stomach doesn't feel unsettled at all.
I slip out of bed and stand, steady and strong.
"Thank goodness," I whisper, happy to be back to my normal self.
Bardil murmurs, and his eyes flicker open. "Good morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?" he asks immediately, sitting up to look at me.
"So much better," I smile.
"That's good. Do you want tea?" he asks, swinging his legs off the bed and leaning down to gather the pizza boxes.
"No, I think I should wait and make sure I'm ok first. Just in case."
"I've got to go out this morning. But I can cancel again if you'd rather I stay?"
"Again?" I ask, confused.
"Yes, I cancelled last night. I was supposed to meet with a client, but I didn't want to leave you," he explains.
"Oh," I stammer, realizing he set everything aside to help me, and also realizing that he didn't leave my side for more than a few minutes the entire time. He prioritized me over everything else.
What does that mean?
"You should go to your meeting. I'm really much better today," I smile. My heart pulls and pushes, and I fight against the feelings.
"You sure?" he asks, standing next to me and gently touching my forehead.
I nod. "I'm sure," I smile.
***
When Bardil is gone, I climb into the shower with my hair tied up and out of the way.
Afterward, while I'm getting dressed, a wave of nausea hits me, and I groan in horror and run to the toilet.
With my face over the bowl, my stomach heaving, I have a thought that terrifies me more than anything, ever.
These are the symptoms of pregnancy!
No. No, it can't be!
This is morning sickness.
Impossible. I was only with him once.
But the thought won't leave, and there is only one way to stop myself from obsessively worrying about this. I need to get a pregnancy test and prove that it's not that. It's just a virus.
Bardil is out for the day, but he left me with some money in case I needed something, like medicine. It's way too much money, but it's fine. It'll be a good cover for my story.
Dressed, I head downstairs to find one of the guards and ask him to take me to the mall. Bardil has already told them to take me wherever I need to go if I ask, so there is no problem.
At the mall, I go to the pharmacy, relieved when the guy waits outside, obviously assuming I'm getting something for the stomach flu they think I have.
Then, to cover my tracks, I also stop at the grocery store and get all the ingredients to make peppermint tarts as well as lasagna.
I've never made the tart before, but I really want to say thank you to Bardil for everything he did to help me last night.
I'm sure I can find the recipe somewhere. I saw a few cookbooks in his library.
***
Back at the mansion, I can barely keep my hands from shaking as I wait for the test results to appear. Thank goodness Bardil isn't home yet.
I'm upstairs in my bathroom with the door closed, counting the seconds until the test is ready. My stomach isn't churning with sickness now. It's churning with horrible anxiety.
I stare at the little stick in my hand. Unable to look away.
Two solid lines appear across the white screen.
No. Please no.
I shake the test, trying to change the results, but it does nothing.
Pregnant. As clear as day. Right in front of me.
Tears sting my eyes and rush over my cheeks. I fight for breath and toss the test into the bin, covering it with tissue paper to hide it.
I can't believe it.
I can't believe this is happening.
What am I supposed to do?