Page 163 of Facing Off
“But this studio is adream. Her voice breaks again, a whisper of disbelief. “You’re giving me a dream, and if it’s taken away…”
My heart shatters.
All at once, I understand. What any kind ofhomemeans to Sonya. The way her foster guardians treated her, what she never had growing up, how she’d never invited anyone to her apartment before I was there because her space is so privately guarded, and why Madame Kozlova kicking her out was such a stab of betrayal…
Because when nothing stays, you have to keep vigilantto survive things when they’re gone. That’s what she’s afraid of.
“I’m calling my lawyer,” I say.
She leans back, startled. “Why?”
“This house will be yours, and this studio is yours—and?—“
“That’s—” Sonya balks, throwing her hands into the air. “That’s—ludicrous.You can’t be serious. Why would you say that?“
I look at her, my mouth softening even as my heart beats hard in my chest. “You already know, darling.”
Sonya gulps, her throat moving like the sound physically hurts.
“Remember in Oslo,” I say quietly, “when I went down on my knees. Remember the questions I wanted you to ask me…”
“Right now?” she whispers.
“Right now.”
She shakes her head slightly, as if trying to hold on. “Adrian.”
“Sonya, darling.” I run my hands up and down her arms. “Be brave. Find out.”
Using the back of her palm, she’s rubbing at her eyes, sniffing. “When was…? When was…the last time you had sex?”
“Before all the fun I’ve had with you, darling? Over two years ago.”
Her arm stalls, mid-air. “That can’t be?—”
“There’s a second question, Sonya. Ask me that one, too.”
Her breath hitches. “…who do you think about when you touch yourself?”
“The only person I think about is you.” My voice is low, rough. “Now, one more.”
“I don’t know which?—”
“It’s a new question,” I whisper, my heart on the floor at her feet, clenching uncontrollably.
“…okay.”
“Ask me who I love.”
Her whole body jerks. More tears spill over. She shakes her head, lost. “I…I don’t know what to say. I want to give you the words, but?—”
Carefully, I reach for her face, my thumbs brushing the tears she can’t seem to stop. Her skin is hot beneath my fingers, flushed from crying. “I don’t need words. Because the fact that you’re not running for the exit… Are you kidding me? I’ve won.”
“No, but you deserve the words, Adrian. All of them.”
“Not if they come with more tears,” I whisper. “Because I swear, I just lost ten years of my life seeing you cry.”
She presses a watery kiss on my mouth, then turns around. “I need you to unzip my dress.” She looks over her shoulder at me, explaining, “I said I’m not good with words, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel them. Maybe I’ll show you in another way? But I can’t move in this dress, so I need you to help me.”
