I imagine she's been given a hard time again at school.
I swear, if these petty girls don't lay off I'm going to march down there and give them a piece of my mind.
"Of course, sweetheart. What is it?" I keep my voice as calm as possible, trying not to add to whatever's bothering her.
Yara takes a shaky breath before speaking. "I heard some girls at school talking about Gerald. They were saying bad things."
I stiffen slightly but try to keep my voice steady. "Oh? What kind of things?"
"That he's...he's not a good man. That he's hurt people before." Yara's eyes are downcast. "And that you're not the first, you know, wife he's brought over from another country. That it's all just a show and you're..."
She trails off, but I can fill in the rest.
My fists clench at the thought of such poison being spread about my fiancé, and how that makes my daughter feel. And me, if I'm honest.
"Yara, look at me." I tip her chin up gently. "It's just idle gossip. You know how people love to talk about those more fortunate than themselves. They see this mansion and the lovely clothes Gerald got you for school, and they just can't help themselves."
I smooth back her hair, offering a reassuring smile.
But inside, I feel that familiar flicker of doubt. What do I really know about the man I've entrusted our future to?
No. I can't go down that road.
Not when Yara needs me to be strong.
I'm not going to let some pre-teens and their immature fairy tales ruin this for us.
"This is just part of adjusting to our new home. Try not to let it get to you."
Yara nods uncertainly. I pull her in for a fierce hug, as much to comfort myself as her.
We sit in silence for a while, doubts swirling.
But I can't let them take hold.
I made my choice. Now I must find a way to quiet the storm brewing inside us both.
Chapter 15
Alina
"Idon't know what to do." My tone is hushed, but the room is large and I feel like my every word is echoing, magnified for everyone in the neighborhood to hear.
"Is everything okay?" Dominika asks, her voice rife with concern even through the phone.
"Yes.. yes," I say quickly. "I don't mean to worry you… I just…"
"Spit it out. Youareworrying me," she says.
"Okay well, this is going to sound silly, but… everything is going really well for the most part. He's lavished more gifts on Yara than any girl could ever use, the mansion is gorgeous, he seems nice…."
"Have you slept with him yet?" She interrupts me, clearly wanting to cut straight to the chase.
I laugh. "Yes, Dominika. And that was great, too. Best of my life, even."
"So what's the problem?" Confusion is palpable in her tone. "You're calling me to complain because you've found a wealthy American who can rescue you from all your problems overhere, who lavishes you with attention, has an amazing cock, a gorgeous mansion, who accepts and spoils your daughter with gifts… I'm really concerned that you're going to overdose ongood things, Alina! Should I call the police?"
I smirk as I take in her words. She's right. How am I being such a stress cadet over all of these positives?