I tried to make it to the bathroom alone, counting each step. My knee smashed into a table leg and I went down hard, biting back a cry.
The door flew open.
“Elara! What are you doing?” Julian rushed over. “Why didn’t you wait? I was only gone a moment.”
A lie. He didn’t smell like the outside world.
“I’m okay,” I said calmly. “Go back to whatever mattered more.”
His hand patted my hair. “Nothing is more important than you.”
Those words once meant everything. Now they meant nothing.
He helped me up and escorted me to the bathroom like a jailer.
Afterward he asked, “What do you want for lunch? I’ll make anything.”
“I want to go home.”
He hesitated. “But your condition—”
“I don’t know this place. At home I won’t keep crashing into furniture.”
“Fine,” he agreed.
Back at the villa, I was already planning my escape when he spoke again.
“A friend of mine lost his wife during childbirth. He was in an accident yesterday… he didn’t survive. He asked me to take care of his baby.”
I sipped water, masking the disgust. “Bring her here tomorrow.”
He hugged me. “That’s why I love you. You’re always so kind.”
He cooked dinner. I barely ate.
“You hardly touched it,” he said. “Want me to make something else?”