I reach out and take his hand.
There’s an initial stab of fear when I first make contact. And then our fingers link together and it feels natural. Like we’ve been holding hands our entire lives.
“I get it now. The high walls, the security, the basement. It’s just all the ways you’re trying to protect him. To keep him happy and comfortable.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure if he’s ever truly happy.”
I can hear it in his voice—the burden of falling short. The burden of feeling like whatever you do is not enough. I felt something similar after Ziva’s death.
In the end, all you’re left with is guilt to add to the grief.
It doesn’t help.
I squeeze his hand, surprised and happy that he hasn’t pulled away. “He loves you, Uri. He looks up to you. He didn’t say a lot but from the little he did say, I understood that much.”
Whether by accident or intention, I don’t know, but his eyes meet mine. And he doesn’t look away. “You’re crying,” he whispers.
“I cry only when it’s important.”
I’m not sure who leans in first. Maybe it’s him; more likely, it’s me. But our lips collide. It’s gentle, soft, maybe a bit desperate, but there’s nothing remotely tentative about this kiss. It feels like an emotional lifeline.
And it feels as much for me as it is for him.
The entire time, he doesn’t let go of my hand.
We’ve had sex before—twice now—and yet it’s never felt quite this intimate. There’s something about this kiss that’s different. There’s something about the last few minutes that have changed everything.
Maybe Uri realizes the same thing, too, because he breaks the kiss abruptly and pulls his hand out from underneath mine.
Then he’s off the bed so fast that I think he might have just given me whiplash. I bring my fingers to my lips, still tasting the phantom kiss he’s left behind. I can only see his profile from the way he’s standing, several feet away from me now.
I feel like I’m supposed to apologize. But honestly? I’m not sorry.
“I should go and check on Lev,” he says gruffly, already turning for the door.
I hate the idea of leaving him like this, but I know that asking him to stay will only make things worse. We’ve both crossed yet another line—and trying to pretend like we have a normal relationship, if you can even call it that, is never going to work.
“Uri?”
He stops short and glances at me over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Um… when we had—when we were together, we didn’t use protection.” I can feel the color flood my cheeks. “Either time. I think I need Plan B, just to be safe.”
He nods without argument. “I’ll get it to you.”
I’ll get it to you. Not I’ll bring it to you. That one hurts more than it should. It’s entirely irrational but that’s what doing stupid stuff like kissing men you shouldn’t be kissing will do to you.
“Thanks. And, er… one more thing?”
He frowns but stays still. I get off the bed and walk around him so that I’m blocking his path to the door.
“Now that Lev knows about me, could you maybe let me out of this basement?” I plead. “I can’t stay down here for much longer, Uri. I’m already going crazy.”
His jaw clenches and his gaze flickers over me. I’m sure he’s going to refuse me. Then something imperceptible in his face softens and his shoulders drop. “If I do, you are not to leave the grounds under any circumstances. Is that clear?”
The relief coursing through me is immediate. “Yes.”
“I’m only agreeing to this because it’s what’s best for Lev. He’s been out of his basement for too long and it’s starting to show. I don’t want to push him towards another episode.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
His gaze lingers on me for a few seconds.
And then he’s gone.
26
ALYSSA
It takes two more days before Uri makes good on his word and gives me a room on the upper floors of his house. “House” is in some serious quotation marks, though. This place is a palace if ever I’ve seen one. They need to have maps hung up at regular intervals like kiosks at the mall.
I don’t see Lev or Uri as I follow Svetlana through the halls. But I catch his cinnamon-smoke scent the moment I enter my new room.
At first, I’m taken back by all the light. It’s just so damn bright. My eyes are actually hurting from it. Once they’ve adjusted, I examine the space. One thing is immediately obvious…