Page 51 of Hate You Most
Dakota stood for a moment, as if she awaited a response from her. She realized then she'd only been shown the living room and bathroom. She had no idea where anything was. This was their home, and she didn't know her way around. None of this had felt like coming home.
“Where is it?”
Dakota's face fell completely. “Oh, right—yeah, I'll give you the full tour.” She plastered a smile on her lips, and Viktoriya followed her across the living room. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, one hand resting lightly on the railing. “It’s just up here.”
Viktoriya followed her slowly up the stairs. They creaked softly beneath her feet. At the top, the space widened into a hallway with rooms, and floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the far wall. Beyond them, Detroit stretched out in the late afternoon light—gray-blue buildings, and the river cutting through the skyline.
Viktoriya stopped and looked out at the view.
Dakota walked up beside her and smiled, a little tentative. “You always liked it up here. You said it reminded you that the world was bigger than… whatever was happening around you.”
Viktoriya stepped closer to the glass and rested her forehead against it. The cool glass eased her headache slightly.
“It's beautiful,” she said finally.
Dakota nodded. “It's always better at night. The lights help when you can't sleep. And, you know, the view is gorgeous.”
Viktoriya turned, taking in the rest of the area: a small sitting area with bookshelves and blankets. Framed photos that had been turned face-down on a dresser in the hallway and completely removed from the wall above. Two closed doors at opposite ends of the loft, and one in the middle.
Dakota gestured to the one on the left. “That’s… the main bedroom. Yours.”
Viktoriya blinked. “Mine?”
“For now,” Dakota corrected quickly. “I mean— it's the biggest room, and closest to the bathroom.”
“And the other one?” Viktoriya asked.
“That's the bathroom. You've already seen the smaller one downstairs.”
Dakota’s gaze flicked away for a moment before she pointed to the door across the hallway. “And lastly there's the guest bedroom. I'll take that one.”
Viktoriya frowned. “You don't have to—”
“I want to,” Dakota said, a little firmer, though her voice stayed soft. “You need space, and you need rest. And time to figure things out without feeling… pressured.”
Pressured. It was such a simple word yet it explained so much. Her mind was in shambles, and she wasn't sure it was ever going to return to something resembling normalcy.
Viktoriya searched her face, trying to find something familiar there—any proof of this marriage she couldn’t feel or remember. All she found was her own foggy mind.
“You are sure?” Viktoriya asked.
Dakota nodded. “I'm right across the hall if you need anything. Headaches. Nightmares. Water at three in the morning.” She gave a small, crooked smile. “You're not alone. I'm just a few steps away, you can bother me if there's anything.”
Viktoriya swallowed. “Thank you.”
Dakota opened the bedroom door and stepped aside, letting her enter first. The room was simple, with neutral colors, a neatly made bed and the faint scent of clean sheets and something floral she couldn’t place.
“I'll let you get settled,” Dakota said from the doorway. “And I'll bring up some water in a little bit.”
Viktoriya had already connected that whenever Dakota said she was bringing water, she was also bringing a little mountain of different pills, and a glass of water. Viktoriya could do it herself, but it was nice not having to remember it.
Viktoriya nodded, unsure what to say. By the time she looked up again, Dakota had already turned and was already walking away.
October 25th, 2022.
— Dakota Sanchez apartment. Detroit, Michigan.
The headache exploded like fireworks behind Viktoriya's eyelids, the moment her mind made her conscious. A siren barely audible in the distance forced her to open her eyes. Tears formed instantly in the corners of her eyes as she breathed in sharply. Light spilled into the room from the large windows on the left.
