HER
Sometimes I forget why I don't drink.
This is not one of those days.
Nausea keeps me in my room for the morning, much to Mrs. Hobbs' concern. A pounding headache lives behind my eyes and every sliver of light or sound sends railroad spikes working their way into my temples.
I manage to recover and go down for lunch, but Mrs. Kozlov's fish soup sends me scurrying back to my room just in time to be violently ill into a bucket I have no recollection of grabbing.
Mrs. Hobbs insists I take the day off, assuming I've caught some heinous stomach bug, and I spend the afternoon feeling sorry for myself wrapped in blankets.
I drift in and out of consciousness, and when I see a dark figure standing at the foot of my bed I become so alarmed I launch myself out of bed, but dizziness makes me uncoordinated and I sprawl to the floor in front of a very unimpressed Mrs. Kozlov.
"You drunken idiot girl." She admonishes me in Slavokranian.
I smile sheepishly at her before her words register.
"Who told you I was drunk?" I don't realize my mistake until Mrs. Kozlov's eyebrows shoot up and then narrow in suspicion.
"You better start talking girl."
I wince, pain blooming behind my right temple. How do I explain why I know Slovakranian now?
"Learned it over the last few years, that's all." I plow past the lingering disbelief in her eyes, committing to my pathetic excuse. "Please don't mention it to…" I trail off, cowardly.
She rolls her eyes.
"Aleksi."
I nod, looking away. She huffs.
"Dammit girl, no, I meant he's the one who told me you were hungover."
Well. Damn.
—
After some scolding about leaving and not saying goodbye, as well as some fish soup which I was forced to stomach under the guise of it being helpful for hangovers, though I suspect she was just punishing me, Mrs. Kozlov and I are finally in a good place again.
In her own words I "better not do it again" but still.
Now I'm left alone to wallow in my humiliation.
Once Mrs.Kozlov mentioned Aleksi, some very embarrassing memories came rushing back.
I will never drink again.
"I don't have anyone I feel that way about."
I groan into my pillow, half relieved, half mortified. This whole time I had been convinced Aleksi loved Sara, and, though not entirely my fault, I should have realized the truth sooner.
A soft knock sounds at my door, and I'm snapped out of my reverie.
Soft light from the hallway frames a smiling Amber, holding a tiny Grace in her arms.
Gasping, I rush to embrace her.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?"
I scold her playfully, but concern sits heavy in my belly. Is it really okay for her to be up? She only had the baby a few weeks ago.
She mock-glares at me.
"What? You're the only one who can do surprises?"
I flush and she laughs heartily.
Time hasn't left Amber untouched. Some of the youthful roundness has left her face, and a sort of calmness and maturity bleeds from her, so different from her youthful exuberance. But in moments like these, when she smiles wide and genuine, I can see the young girl who greeted me on my first day here.
When the small bundle of blankets held close to her chest lets out a piercing scream I wince, pain flaring behind my eyes.
Amber laughs at my expense, dragging me over to my bed where she gives me water and more fish soup from Mrs. Kozlov.
"Aleksi said you weren't feeling well. He mentioned drinking."
I groan, cradling my face in my hands.
"He told you everything?"
This is the wrong thing to say. Her eyes spark with the same rare mischief that used to be so prevalent in them, and she leans towards me. With a raised brow she smirks.
"Did something happen? He only told me you drank…"
Flushing, I try to backtrack.
"Nothing beyond normal, embarrassing drunk things. I vomited in front of him."
She narrows her eyes, slow to believe my lies.
"Hmmm. And what exactly drove you to drink in the first place?"
I sigh loudly, frowning.
She's practically buzzing with curiosity now, her expression caught between a desperate need to know and an attempt at a gentle coaxing smile.
I roll my eyes fondly.
"Aleksi knows." I decide to tell her only one reason, and leave Sara and Lady Anna out all together. None of my business.
This is not what she was expecting.
She slumps back from me, blatant shock in her frown.
"Everything?"
I hum in confirmation, and she leans forward once more.
"So?"She drags out the word, heavy with implications I can't bear to think about.
My throat is thick with it. His disapproval.
The words die on my tongue so I just swallow and shake my head. My eyes burn, and I turn away.
I can see a million questions milling through Amber's mind, but she sees my weary expression and has the tact to say nothing, and only pat my shoulder reassuringly.
"Well, screw him then."
In a moment my melancholy is gone, and we're laughing, snorting, wet laughs.
Screw him.
—
Two days later, I run into Sara.
It's after dinner, and I curse myself for not thinking that she would come to the courtyard to smoke at this time. She calls me over happily before I can find an excuse to leave and I end up sitting next to her, watching puffs of smoke disappear into the night.
My back is ramrod straight and I sweat with the knowledge I shouldn't have.
When the times I've glanced sideways at her gets into double digits, she finally picks up on my unease.
"Is something the matter?"
She's completely at peace, not at all suspicious or worried about what's bothering me. It almost makes me feel worse, seeing her unaffected smile.
The words crawl their way up my throat like bile, and I can do nothing to stop them.
"I saw you in the maids' hallway the other day."
Confusion takes over her face, and I know the exact moment she realizes what I'm saying because her face falls, going pale. Fear lights her eyes, and I can see a familiar blinding panic on her face. I've seen it in the mirror countless times.
My hand reaches out before I can stop it, and I place it on hers, giving her the comfort I was never able to give myself.
"Sara, don't worry, I've said nothing and I don't plan to. I just hated the thought that I knew and you were unaware."
Suspicion and apprehension cloud over her face in a way I've never seen, her chest still rises and falls rapidly, her cigarette laying forgotten by her feet.
"You… You won't?"
I swallow and lean towards her, willing the earnestness I feel to show on my face.
"Never."
She nods, still looking slightly ill, and we slump next to each other, staring out into the night.
It's only a few minutes later when I hear a choking sort of wheeze I look back at her.
One slender arm is wrapped around her stomach and the other covers her mouth. Tears leak from her eyes and her face is a bright shade of red.
If I saw the scene from afar, I'd assume she was crying hard enough to be painful.
Instead, I see the barest glimpse of a smile fighting to be seen from behind her hand, and the familiar sound of suppressed laughter leaking from her.
I shake my head in disbelief, and I'm struck by the thought that she and Aleksi are remarkably similar.
We don't say any more words to each other, yet at meals and in the hallways, whenever I see her, she smiles a secret smile at me and I give one back to her.
What a wonder: to bond over secrets instead of being burdened by them.