His eyes run over my body.
“They’re in the closet.”
I blink. “How?”
“During the wedding I had your things from the penthouse moved over.”
“You could have mentioned that.
“I just did.”
“What about my things at home.”
“You’re home.”
I roll my eyes. “My other home.”
“Your father’s estate.”
He’s not going to give on this. “Yes! My clothes. I have a closet full of stuff I like.”
“You’ll buy new.”
Arguing is futile. That’s fine. I’ll let him think he won.
I finish my eggs, leave the plate on the counter in a show of defiance and stomp out of the kitchen. Childish? Yes. Do I care? No.
I don’t know how to be compliant. That steals my power.
I go back to the bedroom, open the closet and sure enough, the new wardrobe I had delivered a few days ago is now in his closet.
After showering and dressing, I find Nelson waiting for me downstairs.
“Ready?” he asks with that smile I should have recognized way earlier.
He’s a chameleon. Today, he looks like a blue-collar worker. Boots, jeans and worn t-shirt.
This explains why I never picked up on him following me.
I'm going to do better. Be more observant.
Class is abnormally normal, and I am grateful for every tedious second of it. The professor is going through material I know, which means I can sit in the back and consider my life choices. Choice might be a strong word. My hand was forced.
After class, I walk out of the lecture hall to find Nelson waiting for me.
“I’m going home,” I announce.
“Okay.”
“Not Sergei’s home—mine.”
“Your home is Sergei’s home.”
I slowly shake my head. “I’m going to talk to my father, and I’m going to pack as much as I can. I wantmythings.”
“I can’t allow that.”
I laugh. “Nelson, you’ve been watching me for a while now, right?”