Theodora
different person when I go back to Spearcrest.
Not because I’ve lost my virginity—I don’t really believe sex changes a person—or because I feel like I’ve suddenly aged. I’ve always felt older than my years, sex was never going to change that.
I feel different because, for the first time, I don’t feel cold or numb or empty.
The last few days of the holiday, spending time in the warmth of Zachary’s presence, or gossiping and playing games with Zahara, even the cosy evenings of sharing snacks while watching Iakov doggedly play his video game even though he kept dying—those were the best days of my life.
Never before had I realised the difference it makes to spend time around loving people. Like going from a cold, sunless winter to a summer flooded with sunshine.
The sunshine of Zahara’s affection, the way she would ask me for advice, or go on walks with me, or sit and braid my hair while I continued our reading of The Pirate Lord’s Captive Bride. The sunshine of the Blackwoods’ admiration for me, the way they kept engaging me in discussions on a spectrum of subjects as if they were genuinely interested in what I had to say. The way they shamelessly expressed their approval of me as if Zachary had brought me home for a bride and they were happy to welcome me into the family—even though Zachary and I never gave away the changed nature of our relationship.
Love radiated from Zachary, richer and warmer than sunshine, when he would kiss my neck when we sat in his study working on our assignments or when he would sneak into my bedroom at night to lie between my legs and lick me until I was stifling moans and cries into my pillows.
By the end of the holidays, I even developed the closest thing I could achieve to a friendship with Iakov, given he barely ever spoke and that Zachary acted like a spinster chaperone whenever he was around.
Our return to Spearcrest was bittersweet.
The night before we returned, Zachary and I made love like we both never wanted it to end, slowly, achingly, holding on to each other desperately, kissing as if each kiss might be the last. Afterwards, we lay entangled in my bed, my head on his shoulder and his mouth pressed to my forehead.
“Please,” I told him, my heart in my mouth, “don’t tell anyone about us.”
“Have more faith in me,” he said then. “I would sooner die than betray your trust.”
didn’t take into consideration how much happiness changes a person. I returned to Spearcrest feeling different—because the crushing loneliness was gone, because the bleak darkness of despair had ebbed away—but I assumed that change within me was only internal.
I was wrong.
I find this out on the first evening back while I’m in my bedroom unpacking my things. A knocking sound is immediately followed by the door opening, and there’s only one person who enters my room without waiting.
“Happy New Year, Ness,” I say over my shoulder.
“Happy New Year, Dora.” Inessa loops an arm around my neck and kisses my cheek. “How was your holiday?”
I turn to answer her, but she narrows her eyes and steps away from me, looking at me from head to toe.
“What is it?” I ask, glancing down at myself.
I’m wearing faded blue jeans, a white woollen jumper and white trainers—nothing out of the ordinary.
“You look different,” Inessa says, peering at me with a suspicious expression. “You look—I don’t know.” She waves a hand around while she tries to think of what she wants to say. “You look, well—happy.”
I laugh. “Are you saying I looked miserable before?”
“Obviously not. Not miserable. But not like that.”
“Like what?” I sit down at the edge of my bed, crossing my legs and lacing my fingers around one knee. “Use your words, Ness. Describe what you mean.”
She stands in front of me, tapping her lips. “Hm. All pink in the face and soft and—I don’t know. Creamy.”
“Creamy?” I laugh again. “What does that even mean?”
“Did you get yourself a boyfriend during the holidays?” Inessa asks, narrowing her eyes at me. “And you didn’t tell me? We texted every day!”
“There are some things one cannot share by text,” I say with a little shrug.
“You little whore!” Inessa cries. The word makes my guts clench uncomfortably, and for a second, my blood runs cold. “You know I live vicariously through you! I want to know every detail!”
I hesitate. The word “whore” is an unpleasant reminder of all the things I avoided worrying about when I was with Zachary: like my father and the promise he forced me to make—that I would never let anybody touch me before marriage, that I would never be a whore.
And what he said to me after I made that promise, those words that are indelibly burned into me.
Break this promise, Theodora, and I will punish you for it for the rest of your life.
“What is it?” Inessa asks, frowning. “I didn’t mean to pressure you, Dora, I’m so sorry.” She sits next to me and takes my hands. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m just happy you’re happy.”
“No, no,” I say, lacing my fingers through hers and squeezing. “You’re my best friend, Ness, of course, I want to tell you. I’m just nervous, that’s all. I need you to swear to me you’ll never tell anyone.”
She pushes back her long hair and pulls out the tiny golden cross she wears around her neck. “I swear it,” she says, holding the cross and kissing it.
Even though it’s been a long time since I’ve stopped believing in saints and crosses, Inessa believes faithfully, and so I’m immediately soothed by the solemnity of her vow.
“Alright,” she says, tucking her cross back into her top and holding my hands like she was doing before, “tell me everything, you scandalous woman!”
I laugh. “How do you know it’s going to be scandalous?”
“Because you deserve to be scandalous for once.”
finish telling her everything, Inessa and I are both lying on our stomachs on my bed, Inessa’s chin propped in her hands and my head buried in a velvet cushion.
“It’s always the quiet ones!” Inessa says, kicking into my leg. “You sneaky little devil!”
“I wasn’t being sneaky! I didn’t know it would happen.”
“Liar—why else would you go to his house? To sit and talk and do homework?”
“We actually did a lot of that, too,” I point out, peering over the cushion.
“Yeah, yeah—in between all the kissing and licking and fucking.”
“Ness!” I cry, smacking her with the cushion.
She yanks the cushion out of my hand and tosses it away. “Oh, so you can do it but I can’t say it?”
“I know you’re younger than me, but can you try to be mature about this?”
“Alright, I’ll be mature.” She straightens her features into a solemn expression, lacing her fingers to rest her chin on them. “How many times did he make you come?”
I melt into embarrassed laughter, and this time, it’s my turn to kick into her leg. “How is that being mature?”
Inessa purses her lips and shoves her face into mine. “Answer the question, young lady.”
“I don’t know, alright! Several times—every time we did it.”
“Every time?” She jerks back. “How many times did you do it, you filthy girl?”
“I don’t remember—I didn’t count.”
“No, I bet! You must have lost count.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “You’re so ridiculous. Anyway, I told you everything like you asked, so it’s your turn to tell me all about your holiday now.”
“Are you crazy? You barely even gave me any details!”
“I gave you far more than you deserved.” I half shove her off my bed. “You’re not getting any more details, so go already.”
“Alright, alright.” She sits, and then she sighs, and her expression becomes more serious. “Alright, but genuinely. Were you, you know. Careful? Safe?”
“Of course.” I hide my face in my hands. “Do we really need to have this conversation, Ness?”
“Yes, we do. I doubt you told anyone else, and that puts me in a position of responsibility.”
“Calm down”—I laugh, poking her arm—“you’re not my mother.”
“No, more like your rich, hot, single aunt.” She catches me in one arm and squeezes me. “You know I love you, Dora. I just want what’s best for you. I’m glad you were careful.” She looks at me, her grey eyes boring into mine. “And are you happy?”
My heart skips a beat and colour rises to my cheeks. I answer her truthfully. “I think I might be, Ness.”
“Then that’s all I care about.” She grins and kisses my cheek. “You deserve happiness more than anyone in this world, you know that?”
“Stop it,” I say, but my chest feels unbearably warm, and my eyes sting even though I can’t cry.
“I mean it,” Inessa says. “I love you, Dora.”
“I love you, too.”
