17. Giselle
Giselle
Ifeel like a few hours ago, my world was small. I was so unsure and unaware, trapped in the small box everyone had put me in, and I felt useless.
But now? The world is big. I have so much to do, so much I can do.
I feel like I just solved everything I ever needed to about my life and my family. Most importantly, I can stop feeling like I was the reason why my family fell apart. I have a chance to make everything right again, by actually solving her murder and bringing all of us back together again.
I can feel deep in my heart that Uncle Robert didn’t kill her. I know him. I . . . guess I’m also his. Maybe that’s weird, but wouldn’t you love and miss the daughter you know you had with the love of your life? Wouldn’t you want to know her more?
I can’t even fathom reaching out to my dad, who is God-knows-where hiding away. I’m sure this was all because he knew I’d find out soon. He better be ashamed of it, and one day when I’m finally ready to confront him, I won’t let him talk his way out of it.
I won’t let him leave the room and ignore me ever again. He’s going to have to face me while he sees how much he’s hurt me.
I’m not so delusional that I think Uncle Robert and I will change overnight .
. . but I can’t help but hope that we can at least stay in touch.
My dad is my dad, as much as I hate him right now, but it isn’t wrong to crave something more with Uncle Robert.
Maybe he can tell me beautiful things about my mother that I never knew. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m such a mess.
Artem and Roman seem to think I’m being too optimistic . . . but that isn’t fair. Why can’t I hope to find closure and happiness from this? Why does everyone have to be so damn negative and assume shitty things are coming?
God, I need someone annoyingly positive to talk to so I can work up my nerve to go see my uncle tonight.
Good thing I know just the person.
“Oh, Reina thank fuck you answered. Please tell me you’re not busy.”
“Oh Gigi . . . I’m sorry. I’m getting ready for something,” she breathes into the phone.
“You’re so busy lately,” I try to say neutrally as I walk to the dresser and try to find something to change into.
“Yeah . . . I’m sorry. I just feel like Michael and I are in a fun bubble right now, you know? We’ve been bonding so much and . . . ” she keeps going on, but I find myself quietly following along with a mocking opening and closing of my mouth.
So sue me.
Michael is perfect on paper. Reina loves him and she’s so happy but God . . . all she does since dating him is be with him and talk about him. It’s only gotten worse since my wedding.
“Gigi?”
“Yes! Sorry, I was listening. The best part was when Michael pulled the moon closer to Earth just for you.”
She laughs at my sarcasm. “Okay, okay. I get it, I rambled. But I’m happy. And he occupies my time a lot so I know it isn’t the same.”
“Well I haven’t heard from you and . . . I have a lot going on. Like, life leveling shit.”
“Honestly, I want to see you but I can’t miss this. Oh! Sorry gotta go!”
I look down at my phone in disbelief that she hung up on me. Seriously? I tell her my life is spiraling and she just doesn’t care? Who the hell am I gonna lose next?
I don’t even notice Artem until he pinches my ass, pulling me out of my head as I turn and slap his arm.
“Jesus, just because we’ve had a few crazy days and had a temporary truce does not mean you can touch me whenever you want. Don’t get this all . . . twisted, okay?” I say as I turn my head so I don’t have to see his obnoxiously handsome smile.
“Ah, you keep making up new rules, solnishko. I never agreed to those terms.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood, okay? I’m going to go show up at my uncle’s house tonight and I’m all . . . I don’t know.”
“It seems like you need a distraction. One only your husband can give you,” he coos as he grabs my arm.
“I . . . don’t want anything you could give me.” The words tumble out and even I barely believe them.
“Would it make you feel better if I just took the choice away from you?” He pulls me closer and spins me, so my back is against his chest, his devilish voice whispering in my ear.
“That way you don’t even have to think, don’t have to put on an act for me at all.
I don’t mind taking it from you so you can pretend you don’t want it. ”
“You’re out of your mind, I—”
“Shh,” his lips go to my ear, nibbling it as I accidentally go silent.
Why does he have such an effect on me? I think I made a grave mistake being so vulnerable in front of him the last few days.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to take that perfect cunt of yours?”
I feel still as his hands roam me, his gravelly voice in my ear whispering dirty things. If I do that . . . we will get closer. And closer. And closer. And then, we will change.
He will change.
He won’t be the same, and I can’t handle more change. Not from him. I need one person in my life to be who they say they are and stay that way. I don’t need to get attached to him, and need him, and have it change like everything always does in my life.
“We . . . don’t do that, Artem. We can’t.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
What I need? I need . . .
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, then why can’t you let me have the burden? I’ll take it on for you.”
“S-stop saying shit like that okay?”
“What is going on with you?”
God, fuck if I know. He’s simultaneously saying everything I do and don’t want to hear. Well, I want to hear them, but I never wanted or expected to hear it from him.
“I don’t know, I’m fucked up in the head, is that what you wanna hear?”
“We can pretend to extend the ‘temporary truce’ as you call it, or I will take you however I want anyway on this bed. Either way, I will have you.”
I feel tingles going up my spine at his declaration. I . . . want it. The stupid fucking distraction. This stupid feeling. He knows I do. I don’t like feeling like I’ve given in, yet I . . .
The back of his hand runs down my neck until it cascades down my shoulder, gently pulling my sleeve down with it. “Do you need help?”
When he asks, my eyes only stay glued on him. I feel weak.
He grabs me by the shoulders, moving me to stand in front of the long mirror before turning me to face it, his hands placed firmly on my shoulders.
When I look at myself, I feel off. I look sad, my eyes a light shade of pink from the sudden swirling of emotions taking over my mind.
“Why do you look at yourself like that?” His hands are still there, grounding me, as his tall frame allows his full face to show above mine in the mirror. “What has happened to my feisty wife who knows she’s better than everyone else?”
What has happened to me? Everything. I don’t think I’ve had a day of peace in weeks, and my brain never shuts off.
I’m so busy thinking about everyone in my life and how I’m going to make everything go right every waking moment because if I don’t then I might have to look at myself and think about what’s going on with me.
“Stop. Just turn it off.” His voice is warm and low as it tickles my ear.
And what will happen to everyone? I’m the fixer.
I want to make everything right again, for Caesar, for my mom, for me.
I don’t know how long it’s going to take until I can feel like my life isn’t falling apart anymore.
I guess I never realized that I haven’t stopped all my manic thoughts since my mother’s death.
And now, who do I have? I can’t trust my family yet, my only friend is too busy for me, I—
“You’re bad at listening, solnishko. Look at me.”
My eyes move up in the mirror, and it feels like he’s baring down my soul, something only he seems to have always been capable of.
He pushes my other sleeve down now, not yet exposing my breasts but my upper chest. “I want it, too. Don’t you think we’ll both feel better if we release the tension?”
“You play dirty,” I say as I roll my eyes, about to take a step forward but he holds me in place. “Artem seriously, I—”
“It isn’t up to you, I get to decide what’s good for you now.”
My eyes look back up to his as a smile creeping onto my face at his ridiculous comment. “Oh, do you?”
“That’s right, I’m in charge, you know that don’t you? I only let you feel like you have choices,” he coos as he fully slides my shirt off my arms and takes it off me.
I suppress a laugh, because even if part of him means what he’s saying . . . he’s playing with me. And fuck, I need to play right now, even if the game has changed.
Fine, I’ll bite.
“Okay, almighty pakhan, then what? You declare I must fuck you?”
“I challenge you to shut up and let me make all the choices,” he rasps into my ear as he pushes down on my corduroy skirt, exposing the black lace hiding underneath. “You wear shit like that because you hope I’ll see, don’t you?”
“Fuck you, I—”
“Do you admit defeat already? I guess I should’ve known you couldn’t do it.”
God damn him. My jaw clenches tight as I glare at him through the mirror.
“Good girl, you learn fast. I’ll let you try again. If you manage, I’ll owe you. Anything you want.”
Anything, huh? If he manages not to weasel himself out of his end of the deal, that might be worth the challenge.
I feel my skirt pool around my ankles, and now I stand bare in front of the mirror, only my black lace panties shielding me. His hand trails down the center of my chest down to my stomach, stopping to tease the seam of my panties.
“See, you’re so pretty when you’re like this,” he says, his eyes glinting as he watches the defiant look on my face. “I love when you do that.”
I take a small breath when his whispers that into my ear.
I truly hate this man. I hate that he’s the only person in the world who pays attention to me, who notices every little thing about me, every little expression on my face.
Is Artem really the only person I have who knows me?
The only one who knows everything I’m thinking without needing to say it?