Page 227 of Mine Again
I shove myself up and head for the bathroom, praying for a shred of privacy there. Maybe the cameras stop at the threshold. Maybe.
The gaudy dress scratches against my skin, heavy with his taste in excess, and I rip it off and fling it against the tiled wall. It slides down in a heap, like something rotten I never want to touch again.
The shower is still damp from earlier, but I crank the water hot again. Scalding. I step under the spray and sink to the floor, huggingmy knees to my chest. The rush of water pelts down, masking the tears that break free no matter how hard I fight them.
I’ve been nothing more than a pawn. Again.
First, my father decided my fate, moving me like a piece on his board. At least with him, I always knew where I stood.
He made no secret that he despised having daughters and that he wanted to use us to his best advantage. I never expected love from him, never warmth, only his expectations pressed on me like shackles.
At least with him, I could brace myself against the cold, knowing it would never thaw.
But Sebastian?
It was different with him. He offered warmth, tenderness, affection… all the things I craved after missing Luca for so long.
He made me believe I was wanted.
And I leaned into it, only to find out the fire was false. It burned me worse than the ice ever did.
I thought he was a choice I made for myself, a path to freedom, even if it meant settling for less than the deep, all-consuming love I had with Luca. But that had been a once-in-a-lifetime love.
With Sebastian, I believed he respected me, liked me, and wanted to build a good life together. I built a fragile hope around him, convincing myself life could turn out all right even with Luca gone.
But I was wrong. Yet again, I was nothing more than a piece to be maneuvered, bartered, sold. It was all a lie.
This cuts deeper than my father’s control because, at least with him, I understood the truth. With Sebastian, I believed the illusion… and that makes the betrayal sting worse.
The knowledge claws at my chest until every breath scrapes raw. My last meltdown on Luca’s island floods back, mocking me. The progress I thought I’d made feels like a joke because I’m still questioning what choices in my life have ever truly been mine.
Was every step I’ve taken nudged by someone else’s hand, each decision a manipulation dressed up as freedom?
The notion swallows me whole.
How do I take back my power when I’m not sure I’ve ever had any?
And how do I stop being a pawn when that’s all I’ve ever been? Can I even become a queen, or is that fantasy too far out of reach?
The questions sting worse than the heat of the water, searing through skin and bone until they burn in my chest.
I picture the chessboard in my mind, black and white squares stretching endlessly. Pawns march forward and fall.
But the queen?
She moves anywhere she pleases. She bends the whole game around her.
Could I ever do that? Or am I destined to be tipped over and swept from the board before I’ve even learned how to play?
I press my forehead against my knees, squeezing my eyes shut until spots dance behind my lids.
Pawn, pawn, pawn.
I repeat the word in my mind.
With Luca, it doesn’t fit as easily.
Yes, he has taken choices from me. Like making me his wife without my memory of it, carrying me to his island where escape was cut off by sea and by him, even making love to me that first night when I assumed he was someone else.
