The cheeky glint in his eyes has me smiling. “Oh? How nice for them.”
“I think so, too. He works hard, so it’s nice to see him taking it slow and letting someone take care of him every once in a while.”
“Sounds like the two of you have a lot in common.”
We share a smile, and then I turn my attention to the food before me. We each have a plate with pot roast, roasted potatoes, and grilled carrots. My breath hitches. Surely this is just a coincidence.
Jafar says, “I hope this is okay. I remember you saying once that your mom made the best pot roast. I can’t guarantee that it’ll taste the same, but the caretaker of the estate is a pretty decent cook.”
My throat is tight with emotion. “You keep surprising me. I can’t recall the last time someone cared enough to remember that I loved my mom’s pot roast.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches over, putting his hand over mine. His actions say so much.
Lifting my fork, I take a bite.
“Oh, gosh. This is really good.”
He smiles at me, and everything feels… right. We spend the rest of the meal making small talk, all while we find ways to get to know each other a little better. After we eat, Jafar suggests watching a movie. He doesn’t even roll his eyes when I pick out my favoriteCaptain Americafilm, which is obviouslyCaptain America: Winter Soldier. No, he just pulls me next to him on the couch, holding me close until the film is over.
The clock in the hallway chimes at midnight and Jafar stands.
“Come on, little mouse, before you turn into a pumpkin.”
I’m smiling as he takes my hand in his. I’ve never felt delicate before, but I do when I’m with him. He’s so much bigger than me, making me feel like he can protect me.
We make our way to the second floor when fear zips through me so fast that it steals my breath.
“Wait. Where are we going?”
“To my room.”
“Both of us?”
“Well, yes.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“I should probably stay in one of the guest rooms. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
The words rush out so fast that I wonder if he can even understand me.
“Are you sure? I know you’ve been having dreams…”
“I’m sure! Good night.”
Jafar looks like he’s going to say something, but I rush toward the furthest guest room from his room and close the door behind me. He’s right. Nightmares have been tormenting me every time I close my eyes, but when I think of the way Jafar looked at me tonight, I know I’m doing the right thing. He isn’t mine, no matter how much I want him to be. And sooner rather than later, I won’t have him to save me from my dreams. So, this is perfect, really. A way to claim something that Al took from me.
The mere thought of Al makes my stomach roil, and I rush to the bathroom. But the sight of my own reflection has me stopping. The bruising on my face looks terrible. I touch my cheek and my eyes water. How could I forget? And how could I think Jafar felt anything but sympathy for me?
My fingers itch for a razor so I can take away some of the pain I’m feeling. Since I don’t know where my bag is, I settle for digging my fingernails into my palms until I draw blood. How stupid am I? I thought I was having a good day. Now? Now I feel alone. Maybe even a little scared.
I could go to Jafar. Let him comfort me. But what good would that do? He might make me feel like he can protect me, but when it comes down to it, I know it’s a lie. No one can protect me. With that thought, I climb into bed, alone. All while wishing I was in the room at the end of the hall.
20
Ellie
Warmth engulfs me and I snuggle into the heat as I wake up. That warmth? It’s Jafar, who’s pressed against my back with his arm draped over my side. We’re in his room, I realize as my eyes open, and I’m not sure how I ended up in here. I vaguely remember a bad dream. I exhale loudly and roll so I’m lying on my back. Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of my life? Will Al haunt me in my sleep until I go mad? Jafar won’t always be there to protect me from my own mind. What happens then?