Chapter 17: The Comfort Trap

Elena's POV

Marcus arrives exactly one hour later.

I hear the knock and my stomach does this nervous flip, Julian races to the door before I can stop him.

"Marcus," Julian squeals, wrapping his little arms around Marcus's legs.

"Hey buddy," Marcus crouches down, ruffling Julian's hair.

 "I brought dinner, and I might have something else for you too."

He pulls out a toy dinosaur from behind his back, not just any dinosaur but a T-Rex with movable joints and realistic details.

 Julian's eyes go so wide I think they might fall out of his head.

"Wow," Julian breathes, taking it carefully like it's made of glass, "thank you Marcus, this is the best."

"You remembered he likes dinosaurs," I say, surprised because I only mentioned it once during lunch last week.

Marcus looks up at me, still kneeling on the floor.

"I pay attention, Elena."

Something warm spreads through my chest at those words, when was the last time Alexander paid attention to anything I said…

When was the last time he remembered Julian's favorites without me reminding him three times.

Marcus brought Chinese takeout, the good kind from a family place in Chinatown, not the fancy expensive stuff but real food that smells like comfort.

We spread it out on the coffee table and eat sitting on the floor, Julian chattering about his new dinosaur between bites of lo mein.

"So this hotel is pretty fancy," Marcus says, looking around at the suite.

 "How are you holding up?"

"It's beautiful," I say, picking at my fried rice.

 But it doesn't feel like home, nothing feels like home anymore.

Julian is making his dinosaur fight with his trucks, completely absorbed.

 Marcus watches him for a moment then looks back at me.

 Home isn't always a place, sometimes it's just feeling safe with people who care about you.

"I don't remember the last time I felt safe," the words slip out before I can stop them.

Marcus's hand covers mine on the table, warm and steady.

"You're safe now, I promise you that."

After dinner Julian starts yawning, his eyes drooping even as he tries to keep playing.

I carry him to bed and he's asleep before I finish tucking him in, clutching his new dinosaur like a lifeline.

When I come back out Marcus is standing on the balcony, the city lights spread out below us like stars.

I grab the wine bottle from the counter and join him.

"Thank you for coming," I say, pouring us both a glass.

 Julian needed this, needed to see someone who cares.

"What about you?" Marcus asks, taking the wine.

 What do you need?

I laugh but it comes out shaky…

 I don't even know anymore, I've spent so long trying to be what Alexander wants that I forgot to figure out what I want.

"Tell me about you," Marcus leans against the railing.

Not Alexander's wife, not Julian's mother, just Elena, who you are?

No one's asked me that in years, maybe ever, I take a long sip of wine trying to find the words.

 "I used to paint, did I ever tell you that?"

"No," Marcus smiles, "what did you paint?"

"Landscapes mostly, nothing fancy but it made me happy.

I stare out at the city, "I had this whole art studio set up in our first apartment, before we moved to the mansion, Alexander said it was a waste of space so I got rid of it all.

"That's terrible," Marcus says softly, "you should never have to give up something that makes you happy.”

"That's marriage though isn't it," I say, the wine making me brave or maybe just honest, "compromise and sacrifice."

"That's not marriage," Marcus turns to face me fully, his eyes intense.

That's control, real marriage is two people choosing each other every day, supporting each other's dreams not crushing them.

"Is that what your marriage was like?" I ask, remembering he mentioned a divorce.

His face clouds over, "No, my marriage was me trying to be enough for someone who would never be satisfied.

My ex wife wanted the idea of a successful husband but not the actual person. 

I worked eighty hour weeks trying to build something she could be proud of and she left anyway, said I was boring.

"You're not boring," I say without thinking.

Marcus looks at me and something shifts in the air between us.

 You're not invisible either, Elena, you're vibrant and kind and so much stronger than you know.

We talk until past midnight, the wine bottle empty between us.

I tell him things I've never told anyone, about my parents' death, about feeling like I'm drowning in Alexander's world, about being so lonely I sometimes forget what my own voice sounds like.

Marcus really listens to everything, not just waiting for his turn to talk but actually hearing me, his hand finds mine at some point and I don't pull away.

"I should go," he says finally, checking his watch. 

It's late and you need rest.

We walk to the door together, the suite feeling smaller somehow, warmer.

Marcus turns before leaving and pulls me into a hug, not too tight, not too long, just enough to make me feel held.

"Thank you for tonight," I whisper against his shoulder 

 For making Julian smile, for listening to me ramble.

"Anytime," he pulls back but keeps his hands on my shoulders.

 I mean that, Elena, day or night, if you need anything, you call me.

After he leaves I lean against the door, my heart doing complicated things in my chest.

I tell myself this is just friendship, just someone being kind when I needed it most.

I check on Julian one more time, he's sprawled across his bed, dinosaur tucked under his arm, peaceful in a way he hasn't been in weeks.

 Marcus did that in just a few hours.

Sleep doesn't come easy, I lie in bed replaying every word, every look, every moment his hand touched mine…

…feeling guilty but also feeling seen for the first time in years.

Morning light wakes me early, Julian still sleeping, I'm making coffee when I hear something outside the door.

 I open it to find a basket sitting in the hallway, beautiful and wrapped with a bow.

Inside are children's books about dinosaurs, gorgeous hardcover editions with detailed illustrations.

There's a note on top in handwriting I recognize now.

"For Julian's collection, and for you, some peace."

Underneath the dinosaur books is another book, slim and elegant, poetry about resilience and finding yourself.

My hands shake as I open it and see an inscription on the inside cover in Marcus's careful script.

Elena, you are not lost, you are not broken, you are becoming, and becoming is the bravest thing anyone can do, keep going.

I read it three times, something in my chest cracking open, not breaking but opening like a door.

I didn't know was locked, like permission I didn't know I needed.