“You were still in college?”
“No. High school.”
I try to keep my face neutral, but inside, I’m horrified. She was pulled out of high school just to marry Dmitri?
I can’t imagine giving up years of college, much less high school. I can’t imagine being robbed of my chance to learn and be independent. Even if I found a man I wanted to marry and spend my life with, I wouldn’t give up my dream or my education. If my husband loved me, he wouldn’t ask it of me.
Yet Willow was peddled off as a teenager. Was she even a legal adult?
“That’s… wow,” I say. It’s stupid, but it’s all I can muster for a moment. “That’s intense. I’m supposed to be married soon. I finished college and I still feel too young.”
Willow nods, a look of understanding in her eyes, although it seems like knowledge she’s earned through pain. She doesn’t look happy that she can relate to what I’m saying. She looks exhausted.
“Marriage is a contract,” she says. It sounds like she’s repeating someone else’s words. “Just remember that.”
“A contract,” I repeat. “Is that what it was with you and Dmitri?”
“There was a deal that needed to be made between our parents. Our marriage was a promise.”
“Did you know that?”
“I knew. My husband’s father died before the wedding, but he went through with it anyway. He finished the negotiations with my father.”
She’s only ever called Dmitri her husband, I realize. She never refers to him by name. I’m not sure what it means, or if it means anything at all. Maybe it’s a way for her to keep her distance. Maybe she doesn’t want to say his name.
“Well, maybe you didn’t come here with a lot of friends in Boston, but you have one now,” I tell her, leaning forward a little.
Willow smiles. Despite all the bad memories I’ve probably brought up, she seems happy. Maybe I was right. Maybe talking to someone else will help.
“Thank you, Rose,” she murmurs.
I bite my lip. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to confide in her just a little. Something I wouldn’t mind Dmitri knowing, just in case.
“I’m marrying as a promise too. To keep my father safe.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow says quietly.
“It’s fine. I’m learning how to handle it. And maybe there’s still time for things to change.”
Willow is quiet for a long minute. I wonder if she thought the same thing when she was engaged. Did she know Dmitri at all? Did she like him?
This line of conversation is depressing the hell out of me, so I return to my original goal of giving us both something else to think about for a while. A break from the endless mafia maneuvering.
Shifting the conversation back to happier times, I ask her about New York, listening as she tells me all about the city that was once her home. By the time an hour has gone by, she looks less strung out and dazed, and her smile seems more genuine.
Then she glances at the clock on the wall, and her shoulders hunch a little as she bites her lip.
“You should probably leave,” she says quietly. “Dmitri will be back soon.”
“Okay.” I stand up, feeling bad for leaving her alone, but also eager not to have another encounter with Dmitri. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“I’d really like that.”
She holds the door open for me, giving me a little wave as I make my way toward the car Aiden gave me the keys to a few days ago.
As I drive home, I can’t help but compare her situation to mine. I thought we were in the same boat, and in some ways we are. But in some ways, our circumstances are very different.
Even though I have complicated feelings about marrying Aiden, at least there are the ghosts of real feelings between us. I can’t even imagine being bound to someone like Dmitri for the rest of my life. With him, it really does seem like a living hell.
