40

[REBECCA]
With tear-stained cheeks, I descended the stairs in a daze, trying to make sense of Artemy’s actions. He was an enigma-unpredictable, hot-tempered, and skilled at concealing his emotions.
All I yearned for was to break through his defenses, for him to lower his guard and allow me into his world. I longed to understand what was going on in his mind.
It may sound peculiar, but I genuinely wanted to help him. Despite his constant rejections, ranging from mild to outright callousness, I couldn’t shake off my desire to be there for him.
Whenever I was near him, an irresistible force tugged at me. His touch ignited a fire within me, his voice wrapped around me like silk, and his penetrating gaze seemed to delve into the depths of my soul. I should have been afraid of him, and indeed, I was. However, beneath the layers of fear, there was also genuine care. He had a way of making me feel, even when I fought against it.
Neither of us desired such vulnerability. We both sought refuge in masks and pretenses, hiding our true emotions from the world.
Entering the kitchen, I discovered Lynda and Nona already present. “Hey,” Lynda chimed cheerfully from her position behind the counter.
Nona turned towards me, wiping her hands on her apron. “Good morning, Becca,” she greeted me with a sweet smile.
Returning her smile, I embraced her warmly. “Good morning,” I replied, stepping back from her comforting embrace. I joined them in the kitchen, attempting to divert my thoughts from the events of that morning.
“I’ll text the others to set the table,” Lynda mumbled as she reached for her phone. While she typed the message, Brayden entered the kitchen, his expression stern and icy.
“The boss wants his breakfast in his office,” he stated briskly before exiting, leaving us no opportunity to respond.
Was Artemy planning to have his meal alone? Memories of our earlier encounter flooded my mind-the intensity of his anger as he ordered me out of the room, and the fleeting glimpse of pain in his eyes before he shut me out completely.
Someone nudged me, interrupting my thoughts. Lynda peered at me with a puzzled expression.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet this morning,” she inquired, leaning her elbows on the counter, awaiting my response.
I shrugged, attempting to downplay my turmoil.
Leaning closer, Lynda pressed on, “Is it about Artemy?”
I chuckled softly. “You have some kind of mind-reading power, Lynda.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and she winked. “I know. So, spill the beans. What happened?”
“Well, last night, I went to the piano room, and Artemy caught me there. But instead of sending me away, he allowed me to play…”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she let out a high-pitched squeal. “What?” she exclaimed. “You played the piano? Artemy actually allowed you to touch his precious piano?” Her mouth remained agape, unable to fully comprehend the revelation.
I simply nodded in response, confirming the incredible news.
“Wait, hold on. You played it in front of Artemy?” she pressed further, unable to contain her curiosity. Before I could utter a word, she continued, her voice filled with urgency, “Becca, this is a major deal! Nobody ever gets to play that piano. It’s forbidden, you know? It belonged to his late mother, and since her passing, he’s prohibited anyone from laying a finger on it.”
The revelation struck me like a bolt of lightning, leaving me breathless and staring at her in sheer astonishment. If that was the reason behind his anger towards me, then why did he permit me to play it in the first place? Frustration welled up inside me, and I bit down on my lip, struggling to make sense of Artemy’s perplexing nature.
“Mom! Did you hear? Artemy actually let Becca play the piano!” Lynda exclaimed, her voice booming next to my ear. Grimacing, I took a step back, trying to protect my eardrums from the exuberance.
Nona, her voice gentle and filled with warmth, responded, “Yes, I heard.” I turned towards her and noticed a glimmer of delight in her eyes, a smile playing on her lips.
Redirecting my attention to Lynda, I continued recounting the events, “But it didn’t end well. He demanded that I leave right after. He was furious. And the same thing happened this morning.”
“This morning?” Lynda’s voice carried a mix of surprise and concern.
Nodding solemnly, I explained, “I went to check on him, making sure he tended to his wounds. However, he neglected them, so I took it upon myself to clean them for him. He seemed appreciative at first, but then his anger resurfaced.”
Lynda’s irritation became evident as she slightly bristled. When I confirmed her unspoken question, she placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently. “God, he’s so infuriating! What did he say exactly?”
A heavy weight settled in my chest, and I responded with a somber tone, “I told him that everyone deserves comfort and that he shouldn’t have to face everything alone. But he became enraged and told me to stay within my boundaries. He yelled at me, demanding that I leave.”
Lynda’s voice seethed with anger. “What an ungrateful bastard,” she growled.
“Lynda! Mind your language,” Nona scolded gently, stepping in to remind her daughter of propriety.
“I’m serious, Mom. How could he? Becca helped him, and this is how he treats her?” Lynda’s frustration and protectiveness were evident in her words.
Nona, understanding Artemy’s complex demeanor, placed a comforting hand on my back. “We all know how he is. Artemy doesn’t handle attention or emotional support well. It’s challenging for him.”
Her touch offered solace amidst the turmoil, and I couldn’t help but appreciate the understanding gesture from Artemy’s mother.
“I understand,” I whispered.
Lynda’s expression remained filled with anger. “Maybe you should’ve just let his hands remain bloody so they’d get infected. He damn well deserves it. Asshole.”
“Lynda! That’s enough!” Nona scolded her loudly.
“Fine!” Lynda crossed her arms tightly against her chest. Nona glared at her, but it didn’t seem intimidating at all. I doubted she could ever truly look angry, even if she tried her hardest.
After giving Lynda one more serious look, Nona turned to me and gently cupped my cheek. “Don’t take Artemy too seriously. He’s like that with everyone. Just give him some time,” she said softly before offering a smile, then she walked out of the kitchen.
As soon as Nona disappeared from sight, Lynda began swearing. “That little fucker. He’s lucky I wasn’t there. I would’ve sucker punched him for talking to you like that. Asshole. Jerk.”
She continued her tirade, moving around the kitchen with an almost furious energy. She slammed a plate filled with breakfast onto a tray and poured a glass of protein, while I stood there, watching her vent her anger. When Lynda finished, she pushed the tray into my hands.
“Go give that to him,” she ordered.
Was she out of her mind? Why would she send me back into the lion’s den?
“What? No.” I pushed the tray back towards her.
“No way, girl. You’re going up there and serving him breakfast. And you’re going to act like nothing happened.”
When I didn’t budge, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Considering how long I’ve known him, I’m pretty sure he’s feeling guilty right now. So you’re going to go up there and make him feel even guiltier and worse about himself. Got it?”
“Lynda-”
“Trust me. He’ll probably even apologize. But you’re going to act indifferent and walk away. Understand? Make. Him. Feel. Guilty,” she huffed.