I do not want a problem with him.
No matter how much I fight, how rebellious I am, I know better than to make a problem with Stefan Sabbioni.
He will punish me and the rage that rears its ugly head from beneath that calm, sophisticated exterior, it scares the fuck out of me.
When five minutes pass and it’s still quiet in the hallway, I step away from the door.
I look around for some way to block it. The dresser will be too heavy to push so I take a chair and lodge it under the doorknob, not sure it’ll work to keep him out. Knowing, actually that it won’t. That if he wants in, he’ll be in. He’ll break the door down if he has to.
What I did was stupid. I know. I shouldn’t have pushed him like that.
I slip off my shoes and go into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I’m trying not to look at the ring on my finger, but I do touch the reddened print of his hand on my throat.
What the hell does he want from me? What does he expect? That I’ll meekly do as he says? That I’m remotely okay with having my life stolen so he can take his revenge against my father?
What could my father have done to make him do this?
And aren’t I included in that vengeance? I am my father’s daughter and Stefan seems to think I’m precious. So, to bury my father, to use Stefan’s words, does he then mean to bury me along with him?
I open the bathroom door and walk back into the bedroom. It’s dark, the only lights those from the pool coming in through the still open French doors. I don’t turn the lights on though.
Instead, I open every drawer in the dresser, then search through the closet for a weapon. Apart from the heels on some of the shoes, I find nothing. Maybe I could lodge one in his eye.
But when ten minutes pass, then twenty, then thirty and he’s still not here, I start to relax.
That half hour turns into an hour and I take out my book, sit on the bed to read, although I’m so distracted, I just keep re-reading the same passage.
The night grows darker and I get up to go outside, to look at the sea.
From here, I can see down to where we’d sat for dinner. The table’s been cleared, and candles are lit in hurricane jars. Those, combined with the lights inside the pool, makes for a pretty, elegant affect.
I’m about to go back into the bedroom when I hear voices. First a man’s. I think it’s the same man who was here earlier but I only heard him for a split second so I could be wrong. Then I hear a woman’s laughter. A musical sort of laugh that immediately grates on my nerves. It reminds me of my father’s whores.
I’m barefoot so my feet don’t make any sound on the marble floor. I think every floor in this house is marble.
When the voices grow louder, I walk to the French doors, then edge out a little to get a look at who’s here.
I see the top of Stefan’s head first, then the other man. I was right. It’s the same one who was here earlier. They’re drinking their whiskey and laughing at something.
Stefan says something to the woman who must still be inside because I can’t see her, and the two men laugh as a tall, beautiful, elegant and very naked woman walks out onto the patio.
I’m not exactly sure what I feel at seeing her. She casually walks up between the two men and pushes them away with one hand on either of their shoulders, saying something in a low, husky voice before slinking into the pool and gliding across to the other end to come to rest there.
I feel the strangest thing at seeing this.
Jealousy.
And I know I’m so far out of my league, I’m not even in the same universe.
When I turn to the two men, I meet Stefan’s eyes and freeze.
He’s watching me. He was probably watching me watch that woman.
Embarrassed, I blink first. I slip back into my room to hide like a child. Because that’s what I feel like. A child.
What are they doing down there?
I want to close the balcony doors, especially when I hear laugh. Are they laughing at me? But I don’t dare risk him seeing me again and so I remain in the darkness of my borrowed bedroom and hug my arms to myself at the sudden chill I feel.
I’m alone. I know that. I knew I would be before I got here. And it’s not that I mind it. Even at home, I’ve always been alone. I’ve always hidden in some way.
But at least at home when my dad was a jerk, it was still my home.
Here, I’m not wanted. Not welcome.
No, it’s worse than that.
I’m their enemy.
And if I had any idiotic doubt as to how this would go before, Stefan made it perfectly clear after dinner.
I pad into the bathroom to change and brush my teeth. Even though it’s early, I get into the bed and close my eyes, trying hard to block out their talking, their laughter. I turn my back to the balcony doors and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to hear their little party downstairs.
8
Gabriela
An unfamiliar sound wakes me early the next morning. It’s only five o’clock according to the clock by the bedside.
It takes me a moment to remember where I am, to remember the night and how it took me hours to fall asleep. I wonder if they’re still here. Wonder what they did.
Wonder if the woman slept in Stefan’s bed.
But mostly, I wonder why I care.
A glance at the door tells me he hasn’t been in here, although I swear I can smell his aftershave.
It’s still dark out, and I hear the sound again.
Someone’s swimming.
I push the blanket back and get up, go out to the balcony to peer over it down to the pool and I jump back instantly because it’s him.
It takes me a full minute to get my courage up and look again because he’s naked.
I watch him swim the length of the pool underwater, then come up for air and repeat again and again and again. He’s a strong swimmer. Even from here, I can see how his muscles ripple with each elegant stroke, and I wonder how he doesn’t tire.
When he finally hauls himself up and out of the pool in one smooth motion, I slip out of sight and remain hidden until I hear him on the stairs. I hold my breath, thinking he saw me, and only exhale in relief when the footsteps pass my room and I hear a door open and close.
I walk back outside and look down at the empty patio, then out to the sea at the sliver of light in the far distance.
The sun is rising, and I think how much I want to swim. What I would give to swim. To dive into the pool or, better yet, into the salty water of the sea and let myself float. Just float. Let my ears fill up with the sound of water. I remember how peaceful that always felt. Floating with my ears beneath the surface.
I miss it.
I used to love swimming, but now, even the thought of it scares me.
I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. My stomach growls. I’d kill for a cup of coffee, but I push the thought aside. Instead of choosing one of the dresses he’s bought me, I put on the pair of jeans and a T-shirt I’d brought with me and go out to the balcony to sit on one of the two chairs and watch the sunrise. I think it’s the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.
A sound from my left startles me and I turn to find I’m not alone.
Stefan is standing on the balcony watching me.
I’m confused for a moment, but I remember the closed doors I’d glimpsed yesterday. I hadn’t given it a thought, but I realize now we share the balcony.