Page 108 of House of Lies

“Easy for you to say. He’s not looking at you like he wants to kill you.”

“Oh, don’t think the thought didn’t cross his mind.”

If he’s trying to comfort me, he’s failing miserably. Maybe he was trying to prepare me for this in our previous interactions.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’re a foreigner,” he continues. “He’ll never fully accept you but may come to respect you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to be the scared little Italian girl he thinks you are?”

“Of course not. But I still don’t see your point.”

“Stop avoiding his gaze. Stop looking like you’re about to break down any second. I know you’re stronger than this. But do you?”

I don’t even know why I care if these people like me. I’ll be gone in a couple of months, and then Kaz will marry someone more to their liking. It’s funny how the thought of him with someone else turns my stomach upside down. I imagine him with another woman, touching her with his long, tattooed fingers, kissing her like she’s the air he breathes, and doing everything to keep her safe. His voice echoes in my head, promising her an end to the nightmares and vowing to guard her heart with his life. I hate how my heart has become a grave. Mattia shattered me into a thousand pieces, and I’m trying to pick them up and put myself back together, but it’s not working the way I thought it would. I can’t wait for time to heal my wounds. I don’t have that much time left. It’s also exhausting to keep fighting against what I feel for Kaz. My only fear is that I will not turn back once I allow myself to feel.

I adjust myself in the chair, sitting as straight as I can. I stop fidgeting with my hands under the table, convinced his grandfather will notice. He’ll probably laugh later at Kaz’s weak wife. I’m usually good at not caring about what the men in my life think of me. My father treated me like I was invisible for most of my life. My husband abused me, kidnapped me, and raped me. I shouldn’t be intimidated by him, but I am.

Kaz returns to the dining room a few minutes later. I can’t bring myself to eat, so I stop playing with the food on my plate. He sits back in his chair, touching my hand as he says something to Vanya. I intertwine my fingers with his, wondering if he’s aware of the small gestures he makes. His grandfather makes a comment that makes him tense. Kaz raises his voice in response. Everyone falls silent, and then his grandfather stands, slamming his fist on the table.

“Is this about me?” I asked Vanya.

“Yes,” he replies.

Kat intervenes, chattering in Russian, so I can’t understand anything. Words are exchanged back and forth. Anya and Vanya’s mother also joined in, making me feel exactly what I am—an outsider.

“I should leave,” I try to stand up, but Kaz refuses to let go of my hand.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve felt this uncomfortable. I don’t want to be the reason for their argument. They’re speaking too fast for me to catch anything. The air is thick with tension, making it hard to breathe.

“Kaz,” I whisper his name. “I can leave. Don’t argue with your family over this.” I try to reason with him.

Kaz lets go of my hand, standing up. He places his palms on the table, leaning forward. Taking a deep breath, he says something else. His grandfather storms off, muttering furiously. Vanya’s mother looks like she wants to do the same but doesn’t dare. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who notices. Kaz speaks again, this time more calmly. It takes less than ten seconds for everyone to stand up and leave the room, leaving me alone with his anger. He sits down at the now-empty table, taking a sip of whiskey and inhaling sharply.

“What did you say to them?” I ask my voice barely a whisper.

“To leave and not come to my door until they all learn to respect my wife.”

I don’t know what to say about this.

“You shouldn’t have, Kaz.”

“Why the hell not? Do you think I’m going to allow these people to come into my house, sit at my table, and disrespect my wife?”

I don’t know what he would or wouldn’t do since I’m still learning new things about him daily. I understand that no one has ever protected me as fiercely as he does. It messes with my head and heart, but I won’t be his wife for too long.

“They’re your family,” I try to remind him.

“They may be my blood, but you’re my wife. You’re my family now.”

I could pretend that this is fine with me and that I’m used to being treated like this, but I doubt it would improve things. I should remind him that I’ll be gone in a couple of months, and it’s not worth the trouble, but it would be like adding gasoline to the fire.

He’s giving everything to make this marriage work. I don’t think he’s pretending anymore. He may have pretended while playing the role of Mattia, but he’s not doing it now. And I’ve given him more of myself for less than this before. I can risk lowering my guard. My freedom doesn’t seem so important tonight. I don’t feel trapped beside him, so I’m losing sight of what matters.

I stand up, squeezing myself into the space between his chair and the table. I sit on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

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