So I just sit there.
Waiting for her to speak, or to look at me.
For something, anything, that tells me the girl I loved is still in there.
15
ELENA
Ikeep my head down. It's easier to deal with life when your gaze is fixed on things like a crumb or a slight crack in a table.
Adrian is silent across from me, and the quiet stretches, filling every corner of the kitchen until it presses down on me.
I should say something, shouldn't I?
Thank him for the food. Ask him a question. Tell him I appreciate what he did.
But Maxim preferred me quiet. He used to say that my voice got on his nerves, that the sound of me speaking ruined his day.
But sitting here now, with Adrian, my thoughts are starting to flow freely for the first time in eighteen months, and I feel like I have so much to say and nothing at all.
My fingers curl against the edge of the table.
How could that even be possible? To be full of words, to have them pile up in my throat, even, but I can't seem to push any of them out.
What would I even say after everything?
Thank you for coming.
Why did it take you so long?
Do you know what they did to me?
Do you still want me now that I'm this?
My stomach twists.
The clashing thoughts in my head suddenly turn violent, churning everything I just ate into something heavy and acidic.
Cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck and then across my entire body.
My mouth fills with excess saliva, and I swallow, trying to force it back down, but it doesn't help.
The nausea rises fast, climbing up my throat.
Shit, I'm going to throw up.
I clap my hand over my mouth as the chair scratches across the floor when I shove it back and stand.
"Elena, are you okay?"
Adrian's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, but I don't stop.
I bolt down the hallway, my free hand gliding against the wall to keep me from stumbling as I race toward the bedroom I was put in.
Bursting into the bedroom, I try to shut the door, but my hand misses. I don't stop. It's not worth the risk.
My shoulder slams into the doorframe of the bathroom as I throw myself inside and slam the door behind me, my shaking fingers flipping the lock just as the first wave hits.