“Lev, buddy! You’re out of your room.”
He sidles a little closer to me. “I didn’t want Alyssa to leave me.”
“I think this calls for a cereal celebration,” I decide, leading Lev over to the chair beside George’s. Once he’s situated, I pull out every kind of cereal the kitchen cabinets have to offer and fill my arms with a stack of bowls. I pour Lev a flight of cereals and we laugh, pretending to be sipping wine and praising the notes of honey and cinnamon and this and that. By the end of it, Lev actually cracks a smile.
George glances at me over Lev’s bent head. How did you do this? he mouths at me.
I just shrug and turn my attention to Lev, who’s wolfing down this third bowl. The truth is, I’m not sure how I did it, either.
All I know is that I did something good today.
And that feels like freedom.
16
ALYSSA
It’s amazing how quickly the loneliness can set in.
The walk through the garden is uneventful. After Lev goes back up to his room with George, I wander over to the pool and stare at the ripples in the water that the wind is making. It looks so inviting. So does the option of discarding my clothes and jumping in.
My pregnancy feels like it’s progressing at an alarming rate. But then, I suppose having twins will do that to you. On the downside, it also makes me uncomfortable in my skin. I’m just not used to the belly or how my breasts seem to have doubled in size in the last week alone.
But I’ve been caged up for too long—in a basement, in emotional purgatory, in baggy clothes so Uri can’t creep on me through the cameras. So now that I’ve had a taste of fresh air and sunlight, I want to feel those things on my skin.
I pick out one of the bikinis that Uri bought for me ages ago. It’s dusky pink and pretty risqué compared to the round-the-clock outfit of sweatpants and a hoodie I’ve been wearing since my jail sentence in the basement began. But I feel good wearing it. My limbs feel lighter.
And considering I don’t expect to see Nikolai or Uri today, it seems like the perfect time to stretch my wings.
The first kiss of water on my skin is borderline orgasmic. Dipping all the way under is like transporting myself to a different world. Down here, it’s all aqua-tinged beams of sunlight and bubbles rising up in frothy columns. It’s quiet and cool and there’s no violence here.
Just peace. Just calm. Just bliss.
It’s when I come back up that I remember my problems are all still waiting for me.
So I duck back down again. Then up. Then down. I spend the better part of the evening in the pool, alternating between periods of relaxed contentment below the surface and periods of complete guilt above it. I hate that I have the option of floating around the pool all day while Polly is God knows where with God knows whom.
By the time darkness settles, I’ve had my fill of swimming. I’m pruny on my fingers and toes, though a half-hour basking on a lounge chair has me mostly dry.
I’m padding my reluctant way back to the jail cell when my stomach growls. It’s only then that I remember I haven’t eaten since this morning’s breakfast cereal sommelier experience with Lev.
The house is empty and the staff seems intent on avoiding me—per Uri’s orders, I’m sure—so I figure it’s safe to duck into the kitchen and grab something to eat before heading back downstairs again. Honestly, though, I’ll do anything to postpone going down to the basement.
In the kitchen, I whip a sandwich together and shovel half of it down without even bothering to take a seat. I’m waiting for my post-meal cup of herbal tea to finish steeping when I hear footsteps.
Very heavy, very ominous, very recognizable footsteps.
Oh, no.
A second later, Uri shows up at the threshold. He freezes instantly when he sees me. He scans me up and down. I’m instantly longing for my sweatpants and hoodie again.
Not that I should feel embarrassed. My body is changing because of his babies.
“Hi. I, um… I was just getting myself some dinner,” I say, with a blush pink enough to blend into my bikini.
He raises his eyebrows. “In your underwear?”
I frown. “This is a swimsuit.”
“The difference is lost on me.”
This is not a hill I’m willing to die on. I clear my throat. “Would you like something to eat? I made myself a sandwich and I can’t finish it all.” He looks reluctant, so I add, “I promise I didn’t poison it.”
His brow furrows. “Fine.”
I take a step out of his way as he walks over to the kitchen island. He’s a sight to see today. Dark charcoal suit, his hair all tousled and wind-swept. Just glancing at him gives me palpitations. All these baby hormones are certainly not helping.