The night he took me away

Chapter 5

Ava

     Tonight I picked a long sleeve shirt and dark sweatpants that matched together for dinner, which I've taken in my room for these past nights. Except, that tonight I decided to eat on the dining room all by myself. I hadn't heard or seen Francesco in the house, which I guess he might be in a trip or a meeting.
I hope so. I'm tired and bored of being in this room every day.
I crossed my arms to cover myself and walked downstairs. The whole house was in completely silence as always. No guard was allowed to come in, and the maids only came to clean and cook but then left. The house was only for the two of us. Well, only for me. Last time I saw him was on our wedding. Four nights ago.
Married to a man I still yet don't know of.
The lights are turned off early and I feel comfortable walking in the darkness. Once I'm the kitchen I grab a plate of food and warm it for a minute. I walk away and step into the room where I suck harsh breath as I see the figure of a man sitting in one of the chairs, drinking.
"I never thought you were going to come out, " he says in a low and deep voice.
Francesco.
I remain still and the tension grows between us.
"You waiting for an invitation?" He pauses. "You can sit anywhere you want to."
I hesitate and all I want is to go back to my room.
After waiting for a couple of seconds, I walk and sit on the opposite side, giving both of us the distance where I feel safer. My stare remains on the food, and I barely touch it. Ignoring the growls of my stomach and the bit headache of not haven't eaten in the whole day, makes my nerves worse.
"Your food is getting cold."
I look at him and he's wearing the same white unbuttoned shirt with the guns beside.
"You're still scared of me?"
I swallow harshly and shake my head.
Yes.
"No, " I finally said.
He sighs and stands up to turn the lights on.
"In that case, you don't mind if I keep you company." He pours more whiskey into his cup and takes a sip, and that's when I begin to take small bites of my food.
Eat quickly, so you can leave. Just chew and swallow everything.
But my body acts differently because my movements go unhurried.
"You don't mind being all by yourself here?"
I don't answer.
"I think that you prefer it that way. My guess is—" He moves his drink aside and leans back on the chair. "That your whole life has been that way. You're used to it."
My heart begins to pound loud enough.
"And I admire you for that."
I finally raise my gaze and look at him straight in the eye.
"There are those surrounded by people and yet, because they surrendered their soul, they are truly alone. The truth is, unless you can connect to your true self, you cannot connect to anyone else. And you have done that since you were a little girl, am I right?"
"I had my parents," I dryly say.
"But it wasn't enough. You always wanted someone else to talk to. A sister, a brother, a friend...who wouldn't judge you." He pauses and breathes calmly. "We can't tell everything to our parents. We hide them things."
"I never hid something to them," I confess. "You are making suppositions. You don't know me."
He sniggers. "Neither do you."
Our eye contact never breaks, and for a moment I think our breathes synchronize. That's when I finally remembered.
"You where there." I move in my seat. "You came into the room, the night I was almost kidnapped."
"I was there, and I'm truly sorry for what happened," He said with a straight emotionless face.
"No, you're not."
He takes a whole gulp of his drink. "If that's what you think." He shrugs. "I see my actions still don't speak for myself. Or either you are too blind to realize it." He stands up. "But one day you will. You're a smart girl."
He closes the bottle and begins to walk away.
"Goodnight Ava. Enjoy your meal."
But one day you will? What the fuck is he talking about?
I sigh in relief once he's gone. I move away my food because I'm not hungry anymore, and after staying a while by myself on the room, I stand up and go to wash my plate.
I blame him, and his father for what they did. And I don't care what he says. I don't believe him.
As I returned to my room, I saw an open door and the lights on. And well, curiosity got the best of me. I took several steps to get closer to the room until I could perfectly see him from a gap between the door and the frame.
"I got it over control, don't worry about it, " he mumbled. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
He sat on the chair of the living room and leaned his head backward. From the way, he acted when no one saw him, he looked exhausted and like a normal person.
Has he ever felt lonely? Or trapped In a place?
When we locked eyes, that was the first thing that I thought about him. Maybe he wants me to pity him.
"I don't like being spied."
My body froze.
"I know you are there."
Fuck. Should I run or...
I clear my throat and straightened.
"I realized you didn't eat, " I said as I stepped into the room.
He smirks. "You want to poison me so you can run away?"
I wish, but I'm not that kind of person.
"Even if I do, I wouldn't be able to get through all the guards securing the area."
My eyes widen.
I shouldn't have said that.
I walk and stand near a stand of shelves filled with old movies, far away from him.
"I'm bored, " I say.
He looks at me with amusement. "I figure that you were going to be."
He doesn't say anything else for a while.
"What did you used to do when you were locked in your house?"
"I...I talked to my stuffed animals, ran...painted."
"But what was the thing that you enjoyed the most. The hobby where you spent hours without realizing it."
My hands caressed the table made of wood which I observed carefully.
"I loved to sing."
"Why did you stopped loving it?" He twisted the wedding ring on his finger.
Because every time I sing I remember them. My parents, but especially Matteo.
"It brings me too many...many memories I don't want to...recall."
I cross my arms and we lock our eyes again. Leaving the same tension between us.
"Umm, I'll leave now." I take a few steps. "I'm sorry I invaded your privacy. Goodnight."
I leave the room as soon as possible. When I find myself laying in bed again, a million thoughts consume me.
Is he really trying to help me? Why did I got so comfortable talking with him?
I cover myself with the bedsheets and stare at the bright moon that begs for attention.
"But one day you will. You're a smart girl." His words repeat in mind.

When will that be?