Page 93 of Love to Defy You
Again.
This is Aleksandr. Leave a message.
I hang up and throw my phone across the room, and it hits the wall before clattering to the floor. Falling back into my pillows, I blow out a shaky breath, trying to keep my shit together and failing miserably.
Someone knocks. “Willow? Are you okay?” My father’s voice is muffled through the closed door.
“I’m fine, Dad,” I call back.
“What was that sound?”
I run my hands down my face. “I dropped my phone.”
“Oh, okay. Why don’t you wash up for dinner? It’s almost ready.”
His footsteps thump against the wood, growing quieter as he heads down the stairs. It takes every ounce of energy I have, but I sit up in bed and glance in the mirror of the French vanity in the corner. Even from back here, I can see the dark circles under my eyes, and my hair is sticking out every which way from my messy bun.
I’m a mess. An ugly, depressed mess.
I take in my bedroom and the feminine French furnishings. Everything in here is pastel pink or cream, and my bed has gauzy linen hanging from the ceiling. There’s even a vase of fresh flowers on the bedside dresser. This room is light and airy and every girl’s dream, but it doesn’t do anything to lift my black mood.
Nothing makes sense. Even if Alek was unfaithful five months ago—and that’s a big if—that doesn’t explain why I haven’t heard from him. I mean, we’re engaged for fuck’s sake, and if Enzo didn’t show me that picture, I’d be blissfully unaware that our relationship is in trouble. We were happy before he left for the Trial of Hubris. He told me he loved me as he took me against the window and kissed me fiercely. He promised he’d be back to see me off.
I think back over the course of our relationship, and I haven’t questioned his love for me since his father made us break up. He made me believe he didn’t love me anymore to protect me. Is that what he’s doing now by ignoring me?
What if something bad happened and he can’t call me? All sorts of horrific scenarios come to mind, and if Mikhail were still in Zurich, I’d ask him to go by the apartment to check up on Alek. But he and Josie went to Ibiza for spring break.
I send him a quick text.
ME
Hey, I haven’t heard from Alek. Can you try calling him to make sure he’s okay?
With a sigh, I slide my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants and head downstairs. The aroma of savory spices and freshly baked bread wafts through the house, but not even Galina’s delicious cooking can spark my appetite.
The dining room has turned into the Grand Central Station of weddings. Boxes upon boxes of tulle and pillar candles and vases and wedding favors are stacked against the walls, and Galina’s seating charts on paper plates and sticky notes are spread across the table. My name is on a pink Post-it next to a blue one with Enzo’s name.
Did Alek find out that Enzo brought me to Andarusia? Oh, God, is that why he won’t talk to me?
I slump into my seat at the dining room table and pull out my phone.
ME
If you’re upset about Enzo, nothing’s happened. I promise. Please call me back so we can talk this through.
I love you.
One minute, I’m mad at Alek, and the next, I’m begging for his forgiveness. It’s like someone is flicking a light switch in my brain, making me jump from one emotion to the next. I’m getting whiplash from my own mood swings.
But the longer he waits to call me back, the more I start to believe Enzo’s version of events. If Alek didn’t do anything wrong, why isn’t he calling me?
Is he with her? That girl in the photo?
Alek is out of my league, and deep down, I’ve known this bitter truth from the moment we met. How long did I expect to keep him satisfied in bed before he grew bored with me? I have nothing else to offer him.
This inner turmoil is exhausting. All I do is go round and round on a hamster wheel, thinking about the million reasons he isn’t calling me, and it zaps every ounce of energy from my body. I fold my arms on the table and lay my head down.
“Everything okay, kiddo?” My dad walks into the room wearing oven mitts and carrying a casserole dish.
