Page 12 of The Marriage Debt

She walks past me without another word and disappears down the hallway. I wait a moment before following. When I reach her door, I find it shut.

I try the handle. It doesn’t turn. She’s locked it—locked me out, on our wedding night, no less.

I stare at the door for a while, jaw clenched, arms crossed. I could say something—could knock. I could make a point of what today is supposed to mean, but I don’t.

There’s no use in forcing symbolism where there’s no feeling. She did what she had to do. So did I. The rest was never part of the agreement.

I walk back to my room, alone, and leave her behind the door she’s chosen to close. Something tells me she'll try to flee, and I'll be ready. Because she doesn't have to like it here, and she doesn't have to put on a charade that this marriage is anything but a contract. But she won't leave here with the boy.

7

LILA

Iwake to the sound of soft crying.

At first, I think I’m dreaming. The room is still, pitch black except for the faint line of hallway light stretching under the door. I hold my breath, listening. There it is again—closer this time. Small, broken sobs, not loud or panicked. Just enough to crack something open in my chest.

I sit up, heart already racing, and step out of bed barefoot. The floor is cold. I don’t bother with a robe.

When I open the door, Lev is standing just outside. His hands are balled into fists, eyes red and wet, curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. His bottom lip is trembling, but he doesn’t say anything. He just looks up at me like I’m supposed to make the world make sense again.

I crouch down and reach for him without asking. He comes easily, arms wrapping tightly around my neck, face pressing into my shoulder like he’s five months old again instead of five years. His whole body is shaking.

“Did you have a bad dream?” I whisper.

He nods against my shoulder, and I pull him into my room and shut the door quietly behind us. I don’t turn on a light. I don’t want to wake the house. Mateo’s probably still awake, or maybe he’s not. Either way, he wouldn't care about something like this. Anton never did. It was an annoyance.

Lev crawls into bed without needing to be told. I follow him in, lying down beside him, wrapping an arm around his back. His breathing is shallow, uneven.

After a few minutes, I feel him shift.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Is this house safe?”

I tighten my arm around him a little. “Yes. Very safe.”

“Safer than the other house?”

It takes me a second to answer. “Yes. Safer.”

“Is Daddy coming back?”

I close my eyes and fight the rising tension in my throat. “No, baby. He’s not.”

“But what if he does?”

“He won’t.”

He’s quiet for a long time. I think maybe he’s fallen asleep, but then he speaks again, softer this time, like he’s afraid of the answer.

“Is Mateo going to leave too?”

That one cuts deeper than I expect. I don’t know what to say. He shouldn't want Mateo to stay, but he doesn't know Mateo is just as evil as his father was. I don’t know what to promise anymore, but I can feel how badly he needs something solid, so I give him the only thing I can.

“No,” I whisper. “Mateo’s not leaving.”

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