“She really does look good,” Alex says after closing the door behind her.
Walking to him, I wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you, not only for the visit but also for doing this for my mom.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I already told you, Katyusha, your family is mine.”
I melt against him, unable to help myself. When he’s kind like this, it’s difficult to remember that he holds my free will hostage.
The dinner is a jovial affair. The dishes are plant-based, low in saturated fat and sodium, with plenty of vegetables and whole grains. The menu theme is Mediterranean, which includes a spread of baked artichoke, ratatouille, sundried-tomato-and-chickpea stew, and a delicious gazpacho of melon, garlic, basil, and mint. The dessert is strawberry soup served with paper-thin, dairy- and gluten-free ginger tuiles.
Dr. Hendricks—or William—isn’t there. My mom says he wants to give us time alone to catch up. From how much she talks about him, it seems they spend quite a bit of her free time together.
We meet the other patients staying here for Christmas. The group is diverse, with men and women of all ages. Living together for a few weeks has created a camaraderie that’s obvious in their banter.
Megan is ten years older than my mom and is originally from Hawaii. George is a veteran who owns a cattle farm in Texas. Daphne is forty and is opening a florist shop in the new year. I enjoy the lively conversation and meeting new people. It’s a welcome change from my isolation in Russia. For a few hours, I forget about the awful reality of Alex’s life and how it has impacted mine.
After dinner, we have homemade, alcohol-free ginger beer in the lounge by the Christmas tree, while Daphne plays the piano and George has us all in stitches with his impersonation of Billy Mack’s “Christmas Is All Around” from the movie Love Actually.
By bedtime, my stomach hurts from laughing.
I give my mom a hug when we arrive at our room, still wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. “I had so much fun tonight.”
Alex regards me with a warm curve of his lips. Even he had a few laughs.
“So did I,” Mom says.
“Alex and I have a gift for you.”
“Oh, honey. You shouldn’t have.” Waving a hand around the space, she says, “This is already too much, and your visit is the best gift I could’ve asked for, not to mention how costly and tiring the trip must be for you.”
Taking her hand, I open the door and drag her inside. “Come on.”
“You didn’t think we’d come empty-handed?” Alex asks with a chuckle, following us inside.
“Shall I close my eyes?” she asks with a squeal.
I laugh. “It’s wrapped. You can look.” Taking the first gift from my bag, I hand it to her.
She shakes it and turns it on all sides. “What is it? I have no idea what to guess.”
“Open it,” I urge.
She tears away the wrapping paper and lifts the lid of the box. “Oh, Katie,” she exclaims, pulling out the cashmere sweater. “This is gorgeous. And blue, my favorite color.”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s from a boutique in St. Petersburg.”
She hugs first me and then Alex. “I love it.”
I hand her the second gift. “This one is from Alex.”
She leaves the sweater on the desk to tear the gift paper off the box. When she lifts the lid and unties the strings of the velvet bag, she gasps. “My goodness. This is gorgeous. Look at the detail.”
“It’s a Fabergé replica,” Alex says. “Unfortunately, it’s not the real thing.”
“I love it.” She lifts the delicate egg from the box and studies it in the light. “Are those…?”
“The gemstones are real,” Alex says. “It’s a collector’s piece, part of a limited edition. The valuation certificate is in the box.”
“Oh, my.” She gapes at him. “I can’t accept this.”
“Now you sound like Katherine,” he says with humor. “Of course you can. I insist.”
“This is beautiful.” She puts it back in the velvet bag before carefully returning it to the box. “Thank you, Alex.”
“It’s given with much pleasure,” he says warmly.
“I can’t thank you enough.” My mom’s eyes glitter with tears. “Not only for the gifts, but also for taking such good care of my daughter.”
Alex doesn’t move a muscle. His reply is smooth, practiced. “She takes good care of me too.”
Some of my excitement evaporates. The lies we’re feeding my mom are a damper on my short-lived giddiness. I feel despicable, like a traitor, but how can I destroy her illusion if she’s doing so well and looking so much better? How can I tell her the truth if it will crush her? No, it’s better that she believes the lies, no matter how awful telling them makes me feel.
Patting my cheek, she says, “I should let you catch some rest. Good night, kids. Thanks again for spoiling me.”
“You’re welcome, Mom,” I say, my throat clogging up with darker emotions.
She turns at the door. “The best gift is still having you here.”
Not trusting my voice to speak, I blow her a kiss before she shuts the door.
Shit. I’m a horrible person, deceiving my own mother like that. This isn’t how she raised me. Living with Alex is forcing me to become someone else, and I’m not sure I like that someone.
Turning toward the window, I hide my expression from Alex, who thankfully busies himself with taking off his jacket. I don’t want him to see what will be written openly on my face—that right now, I despise both of us.
I take in the moonlit scene. It’s stopped snowing. The landscape is a clean white of fresh powder glittering under the lampposts of the garden. Pristine. Not murky and full of dirty lies. There are no other buildings nearby, but I nevertheless close the curtains. With everything that’s going on, I’m becoming paranoid.
I jump when Alex touches my shoulder.
“Hey,” he says, twirling me to face him. “Why so on edge suddenly?”
“Is it safe to sleep here?” I can’t hide the strain in my voice. “I don’t want to bring the danger straight to my mom.”
“Everything is taken care of,” he says in a placating tone, rubbing my arms. “The men are on watch, and we have satellite surveillance.”
“What about the lunch at Dr. Hendrick’s house?” I ask, not reassured.
“I’ve already sent Dimitri to check things out. I won’t take any risks, Katyusha.”
“Okay.” I bite my lip. “I’m happy to be here, more than you can ever know. I just—”
“Leave the worrying to me.” He squeezes my biceps. “The only thing I want you to do is enjoy the time with your mom.”
“You’re right.” My smile is halfhearted. “I should make the most of it.” Although it’s easier said than done.
He studies my face. “You looked happy tonight. Carefree.”
“I was.” I consider how much to tell him. I don’t want him to think I’m ungrateful. “It was fun. It made me forget.”
Regret flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone in a blink. Pulling me closer, he says, “I know how to make you forget.”