Page 3 of His to Own

“I’ll come pick you up after class and take you to my house. We’ll throw a party for you.”

“Father will be angry when he finds out.”

“Only after. If he shows up to the party, he won’t show his anger. He likes to look perfect around other people. I’m doing this for you, Elena. You deserve it.”

Tears prick at my eyes. “Thank you.”

“Now, you should get some sleep. I want you to pass your test. Do well in school. I love that you’re getting an education. I never got one.”

“That’s because you were focused on ballet. I should have done ballet too. Then maybe Father would love me.”

“Oh, Elena. Father only approved of my ballet dancing because he could show me off on a stage. Never because he actually cared what I wanted. And besides, he hates me now. So what good is being a ballerina?”

“Better than a poet.”

She sighs. It sounds heavy in my ears. “I know you’re struggling. But you will get out one day. I promise.”

Sergei’s face flashes through my mind. I’m not so sure about that.

I sneak back into Adriana’s room and set her phone on the nightstand table but before I can leave, the light turns on. Adriana is awake.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I…”

Her eyes flick to her phone. “Who were you calling?”

“Lana. I needed to speak with her.”

“You and Lana were always close,” she grumbles. “Why can you never include me in that?”

“I…” I don’t have an answer for her. The truth is: I just always liked Lana more than Adriana.

She huffs. “Whatever. I need my beauty sleep. I have to say though, Elena, I’m proud of you for sneaking around. You’re always so… good. It’s boring.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You never know what to say,” she mutters before turning the light off. “Just go. I’m tired.”

I leave Adriana to her moods. At sixteen, she’s always been so dramatic. Her birthday is coming up soon as well. Just a few months to go.

Mother has already sent out the invitations for a huge party she’s planning for Adriana’s birthday. She never made me any invitations. The sting in my chest refuses to go away, even after I return to my bedroom. I try to sleep but it doesn’t happen.

Sergei’s face keeps flashing in my mind whenever I shut my eyes.

Breakfast is a tense affair. Father glowers into his newspaper. He still likes to get them the old-fashioned way. Mother picks at her food. Adriana does the same. I don’t eat a bite. My stomach is in knots.

“You could learn a thing or two from your sister,” Mother says to Adriana, nodding at me. “Not even eating. She’ll remain stick thin that way.”

Adriana rolls her eyes and purposefully takes a larger bite of her eggs. Mother scowls.

I find myself looking at my father and praying he’ll look back at me. When is the last time he truly looked at me?

His eyes flick to mine and back to his newspaper. “What?”

“Nothing,” I whisper, bowing my head.

He doesn’t say anything more as he turns a page. The rustle of the newspaper is the only sound in the room.