Anna went to the studio four nights a week, Monday through Thursday, because that’s when the studio offered adult classes. Most students didn’t go every day, but Devin wanted her to. So she did.
After a few weeks, her life settled into a comfortable, predictable routine. Wake up, watch TV, eat lunch, watch TV, go to dance class, eat dinner and watch TV, go to bed, and start all over again the next day. Friday nights she spent at the Manor. She arrived home mid-day Saturday and spent the rest of her weekend on her ugly teal couch, watching TV. Occasionally, she’d go to the library and borrow a movie or a novel that would hold her attention for a few hours. No romance, though. It was too painful to read.
Isaak offered her tickets to see Swan Lake, but the thought of watching a ballet made her want to rip her hair out. It was bad enough she had to be at the studio four nights a week. He’d also offered her the phone numbers from some of her old friends—Aaron, Jenna, and Travis—but she didn’t want to see any of them.
One Friday morning—she knew it was Friday because she’d had her fourth class of the week the previous night—someone knocked at the door of her apartment, but she didn’t answer it. Only two people knew where she lived—Ian and Devin—and neither of them visited on Fridays because of the Gatherings. Whoever it was probably had the wrong apartment number.
She returned her attention to the soap opera on the screen in front of her.
The person knocked again.
Anna frowned and glared at the door, then sighed and stood, turning down the TV’s volume with the remote. She liked it loud because it kept her concentrating on it rather than other, more depressing, subjects. She slowly walked to the door, hoping that by the time she got there, the person would have left.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and gasped. “Wilhelm?” She stared at him for a long time. “What are you doing here?” The last time he visited, she ignored him. Well, she did that any time he came. Either she was too high to care, or it was too painful to look at him.
“Hello, Liebling.” He smiled brightly and held out his arms. His long coat flapped about his hips in the wind. “I came to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Birthday?” Anna frowned. What day was it? She didn’t pay any attention past the actual days of the week, so that she knew if she needed to be at the studio or not.
“Ja. Your birthday is Sunday, correct?”
Anna shrugged. “If you say so.” Why would she celebrate her birthday? It only signified the day Devin took control of her, sentencing her to a life of slavery and misery.
Wilhelm’s face fell and he dropped his arms back to his side. “What has happened to you?”
She jutted out her chin. “You really need to ask?”
He sighed. “May I come in?”
Anna leaned sideways and saw the rain pouring down over the edge of the covered walkway. She stepped back and opened the door wider. “How’d you find me?”
He stepped inside and gave a small smile as she closed the door. “Your new car. I received notification that the Mercedes had been sold and got your new address through the title of your new car. A Prius, correct?”
She shrugged again. “I didn’t want to keep the Mercedes.”
“I understand. I only want you to be happy.”
She shrugged. “It’s a car. Ian got it for me.”
Wilhelm looked around her apartment. She had a couch, a coffee table, and a TV sitting on a cheap plastic stand. The walls were bare, the vertical blinds open onto the small patio, allowing in what little light the sun offered on any given day. But it was clean. Devin made sure she kept it clean.
Her bowl of cereal sat on the table, half eaten. She never seemed to be able to finish a bowl of cereal. But she tried, because if she didn’t try, Devin would be angry.
“You can sit if you want.” She motioned to her ugly couch. It was an odd shade of teal, but it was comfortable. She had managed to not use the credit cards from either Devin or Wilhelm so far.
Wilhelm removed his wet coat and looked around. Anna snatched it from him with a sigh and hung it in the closet while he sat down. He looked so out of place, standing there in his pristine white sweater and pressed black dress pants. He belonged in fancy hotels and huge castle-like houses, not her crappy little apartment.
“You know, Anna, the house is still yours. You are welcome to live there.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere near that place.”
“Why?” His tone was gentle.
“I don’t want to be reminded of... him.” She didn’t like to say his name aloud.
“You two were very happy together. Why do you want to forget him?”
So many reasons. But mostly because of the piercing ache that consumed her whenever thoughts of him crossed her mind. “I just don’t want to think about him. And—” Anna hesitated. Did she dare tell Wilhelm the truth about his son? “He’s not the man I thought he was.”