“Go to sleep, princess,” he whispers. In the moonlight, I can see the wealth of worry in his eyes.
“I can’t sleep.”
“You need to. Don’t worry about anything. Go to sleep.”
He covers my hands with his, and I notice his wedding ring. His fingers lock with mine, and I think of how he feels like mine again. That’s what lulls me to sleep.
It feels like a few seconds have passed, but when I open my eyes again, it’s morning and he’s not beside me.
I sit up, thinking first that he’s gone to work, but then I catch sight of the open sliding doors.
I reach for my robe and pull it on, then walk out onto the balcony, where I find Mikhail sitting on the little bench.
He’s shirtless and smoking a Cuban cigar. His hair is ruffled and seems a little longer like that.
A lock falls over his eye when he looks at me. He tucks it behind his ear and reaches his hand out to me.
I walk toward him, and he puts the cigar out.
I smile when he pulls me into his lap and kisses the bridge of my nose.
“Good sleep?” he asks.
“Yes. Are you going out today?”
“I have to. There are a few things I need to take care of, but we have to talk first.”
Talk.
My heart squeezes, and I look away. He, however, guides my face back to meet his.
“Natalia, you know we have to talk, don’t you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He lifts my left hand and kisses the bruise on my wrist. That remorseful look enters his eyes again, and he kisses my skin once more.
“The first thing I need to say is I’m sorry for the way I treated you yesterday.”
I’m shocked by the apology. He apologizes to no one.
“I understand why you did it.”
“That doesn’t make it right. You’re my wife. I… just lost my shit, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I’m not a monster. I’m not. I don’t want you to think I am.”
“I don’t.”
“Thank you. I’ve… been doing a lot of thinking.”
“Because I’m not the princess anymore,” I fill in.
“Yes and no.”
“How did you find out?”
“I don’t want you to worry about that.”
“Did you speak to José?”