Page 47 of Delivered to the Devil

I’m about to untie the belt and put the robe back, but then Janos’s praising words from last night ring through my mind.Good girl. My hands fall away and the robe gets to stay.

With hesitant steps, I find my way into the hallway. Usually, I’d head straight back to the bedroom and sink onto the mattress—sometimes to the floor if the self-deprecating thoughts are loud enough. But my feet don’t want to go back there. Instead, they carry me to the living room, where I find Janos by the dining table with his laptop.

Our eyes lock as he lifts his gaze, and for a moment, we remain caught in the intensity of our mutual stare. When he returns his attention to the screen, I scan the room, pondering what to do. Everything has been at a standstill for so long that I have no idea how to spend a day off.

My hands fumble and my feet shuffle as I try to decide. It’s only when I feel Janos’s gaze on me again that I spur myself into motion.

Taking a seat on the pink couch, I retrieve the remote from the side table drawer where I put it two months ago. For the first time, I turn on the large screen on the wall. It turns out I not only have a bunch of different channels but also several streaming services at my disposal, and I end up choosing a sitcom I used to like.

For once, I can stand to watch something besides thin air or water.

I stay there, glued to the TV as the episodes keep running on autoplay.

At one point in the middle of the day, Janos disappears. He doesn’t say a word, just leaves. When my pressing bladder forces me up from the couch, I check the kitchen and bedroom to confirm that he is, in fact, gone.

Once I’ve relieved the pressure in my belly and return to the empty hallway, I pull in a staggered breath as I try to push down the disappointment. It would be so easy to sink into bed and let the emptiness swallow me up.

I hover at the bedroom door, staring at the bed for several minutes before I decide I’d rather go watch TV after all. So I yank the comforter off the mattress and bring it with me to the couch where I curl up and press play on the remote.

Apparently, there’s still a bit of fight left in me.

Several hours pass while I sit there, wrapped up in the comforter, watching TV. Somewhere along the way, I even find myself chuckling at the characters’ crazy antics.

I frown when I look up at the clock and see it’s past seven. Usually, I would have received a food delivery an hour ago. But instead of worrying, I let the TV pull me back in until my stomach growls.

It actually growls.

It’s a lovely sound. A sign of life I haven’t heard for weeks, maybe months. It has undoubtedly been there, but I’ve been too detached from myself to notice.

I pad through the apartment and check if there’s a delivery bag outside the front door. I might have been so engrossed in the TV that I missed the bell. But there’s nothing. So I close the door, and driven by my newfound hunger, I make my way to the kitchen in search of something to eat. A couple of crackers and some fruit is all I manage, but it’s a big step up from needing a threat hanging over my head to eat at all.

Then I return to the TV and let the episodes run on end.

A couple of hours later, I freeze at the sound of the front door. I stare toward the hall with my heart pounding in my throat, expecting two suit-clad men to enter.

But it’s just Janos, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, carrying a white plastic bag. “I’m sorry dinner is late,” he says. “I got held up.”

My shoulders fall back in place, and I press a hand to my frantic heart as I watch him bring a chair across the room.

Unheeding the TV, he takes a seat right in front of me and starts unpacking the bag on the coffee table. My eyes flicker back and forth between the TV and the delicious-looking food as I try to decide which is more appealing.

Janos must have been to the Jewish district because there’s both pita bread, falafel, labneh, hummus, and spicy meat. Before my life here in Budapest turned upside down, I used to go there to get a meal like this whenever I could spare the expense. The colors and scents alone are a feast for the senses, and I find them slowly waking up after weeks of dormancy.

I eagerly open my mouth when Janos holds up the first bite, and I gobble up everything he gives me as he alternates between feeding me and himself. Sometimes, my eyes linger as he licks his fingers, then uses the same ones to feed me a new bite offood.I want to feel those lips too—feel them crashing against mine as his tongue invades my mouth and his hand wraps around my neck.

God, our kiss is an all too vivid memory in my mind, and I force it out by turning my eyes back to the TV.

With Janos in my line of view, I have to crane my neck to see the screen. At first, he doesn’t seem to mind my divided attention, but after a while, he starts pushing my head back to face him whenever I lean away. Yet I keep doing it, unable to keep my eyes off the newly discovered entertainment.

When he grabs my jaw and holds me in place as he feeds me a hummus covered falafel, I realize he’s annoyed. His eyes narrow as he clenches his jaw. Even so, my eyes drift away once he releases me. Something inside me has awoken—something that wants to live, watch TV, and eat good food. And I want it all at once.

Janos growls in frustration, and my eyes jump to the always impassive man with surprise. He grabs the terry belt around my waist, unties it, and yanks it free. I yelp at the sudden motion, expecting him to tear the robe open. But he doesn’t touch the white terry cloth again. Instead, he wraps the soft material around my head several times to cover my eyes and ties it at the back of my head.

Reflexively, I lift my fingers to investigate, but large hands grab my wrists. Harshly. Impatiently, even.

My hands go slack in his grip as a surge of submission swooshes through me. The reaction seems to be what he’s looking for because he eases his grip and breathes an almost relieved sigh. His thumbs start stroking my skin, up and down, taking his time to feel me.

My breaths rush in and out through my parted lips as my skin awakens. God, I want more. I dart out my tongue to wet my lips, and Janos immediately tightens his grip again.

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