Month: December 2025

38 OLIVIA The journal in my lap might as well be a ticking time bomb. I’ve been reading for over an hour, curled up in the leather armchair in Stefan’s study. My coffee went cold twenty minutes ago. I haven’t touched it since the first sip triggered another wave of nausea. Pregnancy is every bit

For the first time in days, I feel like I can actually breathe. Is the light streaming through the windows more golden today, or is that just me? Are the birds more chipper, or am I imagining things? It’s like all the color has been added back into the world. The smile on my face

For the first time in days, I feel like I can actually breathe. Is the light streaming through the windows more golden today, or is that just me? Are the birds more chipper, or am I imagining things? It’s like all the color has been added back into the world. The smile on my face

The dining room feels like a stage set for torture. Mom has gone above and beyond and pulled out the good china—the Wedgwood with the gold trim that only appears for “special occasions.” Translation: when she wants to impress someone who matters. Stefan sits across from me, his face neutral as he carves up his

I lied about having work. The truth is, I can’t leave her. Even when she doesn’t want me around, even when every word between us is sharp enough to draw blood and leave scars, I can’t bring myself to drive away. So I circle the block. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth pass, I

Dad leads me through the house. We wind through the formal living room with its uncomfortable antique furniture that no one ever sits on and past the dining room with its table that seats twelve but has only ever held three. The kitchen is dark. He flips on a light. “Coffee?” he offers. “Sure.” He

I wait until I’m sure Stefan is nowhere nearby before I slip out of my room. The hallway is empty. I move quickly, keeping my footsteps light on the marble floors. Down the stairs. Through the foyer. Past the sitting room where Babushka sometimes takes her tea. I need air. Space. Something other than these

What the fuck did I just do? I can’t believe the things that came out of my mouth. Toxic shit, unforgivable shit. Irreversible shit. Naive. Stupid. Weak. I sink back onto the sofa and drop my head into my hands. I didn’t mean any of it. Not a single goddamn word. The truth is so

I find him in his office, sitting in darkness. The door is ajar, just enough for a sliver of hallway light to cut across the hardwood floor. I push it open slowly, take two steps in, then cringe at the too-loud intrusion of my heels smacking against the floor. I slip them off and pad