the place with new eyes and different feelings. In a way, this house had felt like her prison for a long time. The home her father bought her after the attack—she would deal with that another time—and the place that kept her hidden away from the world. Here, she had felt safe, like nothing could hurt her and no one would ever know how broken she truly was when she closed the front door.
Like keeping the world out.
The thing was, she knew that in fact, all she had been doing was protecting herself in the only way she’d known how. She was building those walls up higher and higher because she couldn’t afford for someone else to climb over them and hurt her again.
It was like a part of her knew …
Some part of her just knew what her father had done even though she’d never asked, and he’d never told her until now. She’d been naive enough to believe for a long time that despite the fact her father was a horrible human being, he wouldn’t be that person to her. In all truth, she hadn’t wanted him to be that person to her, so she’d chosen to overlook a lot.
The way he treated others.
Things he did to his sons.
Everything.
Literally everything about her father was a constant reality check about who he actually was beneath his tailored suits and welcoming smiles. Sure, he reminded her of years gone past, and a childhood that was filled with a girl being spoiled and adored by her daddy … but she was just another pawn for Vadim at the end of the day. He’d let her think that his affection and adoration was because he truly felt those things, when, in fact, they were just another form of his manipulation.
She was not a special case.
She was not the most loved.
He didn’t give a damn about her.
So yeah, despite the fact she knew for sure now, it was only because she couldn’t pretend anymore. She was mad at the part of her that had to know but still went ahead and ignored it, anyway. Everything made so much more sense now, in a way.
Because wasn’t she nastiest to those she loved? Wasn’t she coldest to those who were supposed to care and protect her because the one she cared for and loved the most had been the same person who’d hurt her?
“Could you give us a moment?”
Pav’s voice drew Viktoria from her thoughts, and she realized then that her hand was still on the door handle, but she hadn’t actually made the attempt to open it. She was still sitting there in the back seat of a vehicle while she stared at her house, going over every moment of her life that passed her by in the last two years.
All her fears.
The mistakes she’d made.
Her pain.
The pain she’d caused.
“Now, if you wouldn’t mind,” Pav snapped at the driver when the man lingered in the front a little too long for his liking. “Move.”
The driver finally got out of the car.
Viktoria still didn’t move.
“I stopped looking into mirrors after it all happened,” she said when it was just them alone in the back of the vehicle. “I told myself it was because I didn’t recognize the person who was staring back at me.”
Pav cleared his throat. “It’s just a house, babe.”
Viktoria made a noise in the back of her throat. “It’s not … it’s a prison. One I made for myself after someone else handed me the keys. I didn’t stop looking into mirrors because of that, I didn’t like who was looking back at me. I didn’t like who I had become, and the way I treated the people around me.”
“Vik—”
“They wanted to help, but I just wanted to die. I couldn’t have them get too close. They might hurt me, too, but if they didn’t, then I wouldn’t want them to be hurt when the inevitable finally happened. I didn’t want them to feel pain when I died because I wasn’t even worth that. Does that make sense?”
Pav’s sigh echoed in the quiet car. “I suppose, in a warped way, yes.”
“I don’t know what I feel about this house anymore.”
“We don’t have to stay here.”
His words were simple.
And true, she knew.
Everything seemed to be that way for Pav—things either were or they were not. He wasn’t the type to add frills and nonsense to anything. He was very much black and white, and she appreciated that more than he could possibly know.