Page 101 of Petite Fleur

I feel helpless to anything and everything going on, but during sex it feels different. It doesn’t feel so scary.

The thought of Leon coming home and taking me again has me panting with need. What is wrong with me? Why am I like this?

Better yet, why is he like this?

What does it take to make a man want somebody so badly that they’d kidnap them?

And why me?

Nobody has ever wanted me, especially not badly enough to steal me from my bed.

While this situation isn’t ideal, I’ve grown comfortable here for the most part, I’m just scared of getting sick again.

I’m so scared of feeling how I felt that day. I know it’s only been a few days, but I can’t handle it again, and I know if Leon hadn’t intervened, I would have ended up needing to go to the hospital.

I’m not even sure if he would have let me go. Would he have just killed me if I became more of a headache that he signed up for?

I’m already nervous for the day that he realizes that celiac can cause infertility.

I’m scared that he’ll kill me and dump my body on the side of the road when he realizes that I may never be able to give him a baby.

So while I don’t want a baby, I hope I’m pregnant.

At least then I know I’ll be useful to him.

That also means that I can’t risk eating anymore gluten. It’s not just my health that I have to focus on, I have to think of any potential baby’s health.

I genuinely don’t think a fetus could survive an immune system flare-up like that.

I don’t know, I’ve never looked into it before, I was never ready for kids, and I’ve never made it past the first date to even have to think about it.

If I had my computer and were allowed access to the internet, I’d look it up, but I haven’t been given any permissions since coming here.

Leon probably thinks that I’d contact someone to help me, but I wonder if he knows that there’s nobody I could turn to for help.

God that's embarrassing to even admit.

My mother would just be excited that I'm 'dating' a doctor, and none of my friends would really care. Not that I can say any of them are actually my friends. If they were, I'd assume someone would be looking for me by now?

I've been gone for what, a week now? I don't even know. It could be longer for all I know. All I've done is sleep, read, and cook.

At least I can add cooking to the limited amount of things I’m actually allowed to do, so it’s something to add to my routine and help pass the time.

However, I must say that my motives are selfish.

I’m too scared to let Leon cook in his own kitchen. What if he doesn’t disinfect everything well enough? What if he doesn’t eat gluten-free at all and I get sick again?

No, it’s easier for my mental health if I do all of the cooking.

Today I found a box of gluten-free pasta in the cabinet, so I made that into a vegan Greek pasta salad with Kalamata olives, tomatoes, red onion, cucumber, vegan feta, homemade dressing, and roasted chickpeas.

I don't really know how Leon eats, but nothing in this house is something I wouldn't eat. There's no meat, no dairy, and nothing with gluten.

I have the feeling he did this intentionally, that he'd been watching me and copying my ways so I feel comfortable.

It's sweet in a very disturbing way.

Leon walks through the door as I am putting dinner in a container, filling another smaller one for his lunch tomorrow. "Good evening, ma fleur. Did you have a nice day?" He asks.

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