Not Yet

I ran.

The hallway blurred past me. The stairs. The front door. The cold night air hit my face. I did not stop. I could not stop. If I stopped, I would have to think. And if I thought, I would have to feel.

And I did not want to feel anything.

The garden was dark. The roses were invisible. I walked to the wall. Leaned against the cold stone. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

Rex killed my father.

My husband killed my real father.

The man who touched me. Who kissed me. Who said he loved me. He put poison in Dante Marchetti's glass.

I wanted to throw up.

Footsteps behind me. Slow. Careful.

"I told you not to follow me."

"I know."

Rex stopped a few feet away. Did not come closer. His hands were in his pockets. His face was in shadow.

"Say something," he said.

"Say what? That I hate you? That I want to kill you? That I wish I had never signed that contract?"

"Say anything. Just... say something."

I turned to face him. The moonlight hit his face. He looked older. Tired. Scared.

"Did you enjoy it?" I asked.

"What?"

"Killing him. Did you enjoy watching him die?"

Rex's jaw tightened. "No. I have never enjoyed killing anyone."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because your mother asked me to. Because Dante was going to kill her. Because I was seventeen years old and I did not know any better."

"You knew right from wrong."

"I knew survival, Mira. That is all I knew. Kill or be killed. That was my life. That was my father's life. That was everyone's life."

"That is not an excuse."

"No. It is not. It is an explanation. Take it or leave it."

I walked toward him. Stopped inches from his face.

"Tell me everything. From the beginning. No more lies. No more secrets. Everything."

Rex sat down on the garden bench. I sat across from him. The roses watched us in the dark.

"My father was a monster," he said. "Worse than Victor. Worse than anyone you have ever met. He beat my mother. He beat me. He killed people for fun."

"I did not know."

"No one knew. He was good at hiding it. Except your mother. She knew."

"How?"

"She saw him kill a man once. At a party. He dragged the body into the garden. Buried it under the roses. Your mother watched from the window."

"The roses in my mother's garden?"

"Yes. Those roses."

I looked at the flowers. Red and white. Love and death. I would never look at them the same way again.

"Your mother helped me escape," Rex continued. "She got me out of that house. She gave me money. A place to stay. A future. I owed her everything."

"So when she asked you to kill Dante..."

"I said yes. I did not ask questions. I did not think about consequences. I just did it."

"How?"

"Poison. In his wine. He was dead within an hour."

"Did he suffer?"

Rex looked at the ground. "Yes."

"Good."

He looked up. Surprise on his face.

"Good?" he asked.

"He was going to kill my mother. He deserved to suffer."

"Your mother lied to you. She manipulated you. She sold you to me. And you still defend her?"

"I am not defending her. I am being honest. Dante was going to kill her. You stopped him. That does not make you innocent. But it does not make you a monster either."

"What does it make me?"

"I do not know yet. That is the problem."

We sat in silence for a long time.

The wind moved through the roses. The stars were hidden behind clouds. The house loomed behind us, dark and full of secrets.

"Your mother is not innocent either," Rex said.

"I know."

"She used me. Just like she used you. Just like she used everyone."

"I know."

"She is the one who planned everything. The marriage. The body double. The lies about your father. All of it."

"I know."

"Then why are you still protecting her?"

I looked at him. "Because she is my mother. Because I have spent ten years thinking she was dead. Because I am not ready to lose her again."

"You are not going to lose her. You are going to see her for who she really is."

"And who is that?"

"Someone who will do anything to survive. Someone who will sacrifice anyone to win. Someone who loves you, yes. But loves power more."

The words hit like bullets. Because they were true.

"Is that what you think of me too?" I asked.

"What?"

"Am I like her? Do I love power more than people?"

Rex stood up. Walked to me. Knelt in front of me. Took my hands.

"You are nothing like her, Mira. You are stronger. Braver. Kinder."

"I am not kind."

"You are. You just do not show it. You are afraid to show it. Because every time you have been kind, someone has used it against you."

I wanted to argue. Could not.

"Your mother is afraid of you," Rex said. "That is why she sold you to me. Not because she wanted you out of the way. Because she knew I would keep you safe. Because she knew I would love you. Because she knew you would become too powerful for her to control."

"You are lying."

"I am not. Ask her yourself. She will tell you the same thing."

I stood up. Walked toward the house.

"Where are you going?" Rex asked.

"To talk to my mother. To get the truth. All of it."

"I will come with you."

"No. This is between me and her."

"Mira..."

I turned. Looked at him.

"If you follow me, I will leave. Not just the garden. The house. The city. I will disappear and you will never find me."

Rex's face went pale.

"Do you understand?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Good."

I walked into the house.

My mother was in the living room. Sitting on the couch. A glass of wine in her hand. She looked up when I walked in. Did not look surprised.

"I was wondering when you would come," she said.

"You knew I would."

"Of course. You are my daughter. You do not run from things. You face them."

I sat across from her. Did not take the wine she offered.

"Tell me about Dante," I said.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Starting with why you wanted him dead."

My mother set down her glass. Folded her hands in her lap.

"Dante was not a good man, Mira. He was charming. Handsome. Romantic. But he was also cruel. Possessive. Violent."

"Did he hit you?"

"Not at first. But he would have. Eventually. I saw the signs. The same signs I saw with Victor. The jealousy. The control. The anger."

"So you killed him before he could kill you."

"Yes."

"You asked Rex to do it."

My mother's eyes flickered. "Rex told you."

"Yes."

"He was seventeen. He was young. He did not understand what he was doing."

"He understood enough. He said yes."

"Because I asked him to. Because he owed me. Because I saved his life."

"You used him."

"I protected him. Just like I protected you. Just like I protected everyone."

"You protected no one. You used everyone. You lied to everyone. You manipulated everyone."

My mother stood up. Walked to the window.

"You think you know everything, Mira. But you do not. You have no idea what I have sacrificed. What I have done. What I have lost."

"Then tell me."

My mother turned. Her eyes were wet.

"I loved Dante, Mira. I loved him more than anything. And I killed him. I asked a seventeen-year-old boy to poison the man I loved. Because I was afraid. Because I was weak. Because I did not know what else to do."

"That does not make it right."

"No. But it makes it human. I am not a monster. I am a woman who made terrible choices because she was terrified."

"Terrified of what?"

"Of losing everything. Of ending up dead. Of leaving you alone with Victor."

"So you faked your death instead. You left me alone anyway."

My mother walked to me. Knelt in front of me. Took my hands.

"I watched you from the shadows, Mira. Every birthday. Every holiday. Every time you cried. I was there. You just did not know it."

"Then why did you not come to me? Why did you not tell me the truth?"

"Because I was a coward. Because I was afraid you would hate me. Because I was afraid you would choose Victor over me."

"I would never have chosen him."

"I know that now. I did not know it then."

We sat in silence.

My mother's hands were warm around mine. Her eyes were green like mine. Her face was older. Tired. Sad.

"I am not asking for forgiveness," she said. "I am not asking you to love me. I am just asking you to understand."

"I do not understand."

"Then ask. I will answer. No more lies."

"Why did you sell me to Rex?"

My mother's grip tightened.

"I did not sell you, Mira. I gave you to him. Because he was the only person I trusted to keep you safe. Because I knew he would love you. Because I knew you would love him."

"You cannot make someone love someone."

"No. But you can put them in the same room and hope."

"You gambled with my life."

"I gambled with your happiness. There is a difference."

"Not to me."

My mother stood up. Walked to the door.

"I am tired, Mira. We can talk more in the morning."

"Do not walk away from me."

"I am not walking away. I am going to bed. You should too."

She opened the door.

Rex was standing in the hallway.

His face was pale. His hands were shaking.

"I heard everything," he said.

My mother looked at him. Then at me.

"Good," she said. "Now you both know the truth."

She walked away.

Rex and I stood alone in the doorway.

"I am sorry," he said. "For everything."

"Sorry does not fix anything."

"I know. But it is a start."

I looked at him. At his hands. At his eyes. At the man who killed my father and married me for revenge and said he loved me.

"I am not ready to forgive you," I said.

"I know."

"I am not ready to trust you."

"I know."

"I am not ready to love you."

Rex nodded. "Then I will wait."

"How long?"

He stepped closer. Touched my face. His thumb traced my cheekbone.

"As long as it takes."

He kissed my forehead. Soft. Gentle.

Then he walked away.

I stood in the doorway.

The house was dark. The hallway was empty.

My mother was in one room. My husband was in another.

And I was alone in between.

Not ready to forgive.

Not ready to trust.

Not ready to love.

But not ready to leave either.

I closed the door.

And for the first time in ten years, I let myself cry.