If You Do Not Want Anyone to Worry Unnecessarily, Always Check if You Have Pressed "Send" Button

Hortensja had mixed feelings, having the snowflakes falling into her scarf and causing discomfort. On the one hand, she was sad that she wouldn't be able to organize at least a semblance of traditional Christmas abroad. On the other hand, she could simply ignore the preparations and avoid hours of cleaning, cooking, and stress while spending those few days with Kamil's family. She couldn't accuse them of being mean to her, but they also didn't mind how he treated her, and sometimes they even praised him for it. She decided not to have any plans for now, apart from buying a few presents, although she didn't have a specific idea for any yet. And she felt that this time she had a chance to enjoy it.

The Pole returned to the hotel and packed all her belongings. She didn't want Hikaru to ask her again if she was back there; she wanted to go back to him, to his place, which, if he let her, she would like to call home. Afterward, she couldn't sleep. After stressing so many times that they didn't have to move in together right away, and yet, she wanted to show up on his doorstep first thing in the morning and ask for it. Apparently, not causing pressure wasn't one of her strong points. She felt sad as she said goodbye to the hotel staff, with whom she had established a stronger bond; the security guard even asked her to drop by sometimes to at least say hello.

The snow was falling harder than the day before, so the world looked like it was covered in a white blanket. Hortensja walked carefully so as not to fall or, worse yet, hurt herself badly. She got the stops mixed up and got a little lost from the stress, but it was still early enough that she suspected she would be able to get there before Hikaru got up. She was surprised when he opened the door almost immediately after the bell rang and grabbed her in his arms, pulling her inside.

“I was so worried. I didn't sleep all night because you didn't reply to me or if you came back safely,” he said, at the same time checking if she was all right.

“I replied,” Hortensja explained, pushing his hands away from her. “Look.” She took out her phone and then, with horror, realized her mistake. “I'm sorry, I wrote, but I didn't send it. You shouldn't have worried.”

“No problem. What are you doing here so early in the morning?”

The girl's gaze went to the suitcase, Hikaru's too. He nodded in understanding, but didn't mention that due to yesterday's shopping and the inability to sleep, he started preparing a place for her things. At the same time, he was surprised that there were so few of them. He suggested breakfast and quickly disappeared into the kitchen. Hortensja didn't appear with him for some time, so he looked if something could stop her. She stared at the slippers he had bought for her, which he had already placed as if they had been waiting for her in the same place forever. The girl looked at him questioningly.

“They're for you,” the man confirmed. “I was looking for the perfect ones yesterday, but I'm not sure if I found the right size.” “You did it.” She smiled and took a few experimental steps in the cute cat slippers. “Thank you.”

Hikaru was proud of himself, although he didn't want to show it, but he wanted to shine even more through the simplest breakfast and decided to have an omelet. He didn't cook elaborately, but it was tasty enough. Most of the time, tiredness and stress took away his strength, so he usually used ready-made meals and his friend's kindness. They ate, enjoying each other's company, and then sat on the couch with coffee in mugs that the girl had bought the day before. Hortensja took a long time to collect her thoughts, checking in her head again whether she hadn't missed any point of her story that she was going to tell him. She regretted a little that she hadn't gathered the courage earlier.

“I'm sorry I reacted so violently yesterday, and thank you for calming down the whole situation,” she began, avoiding his gaze.

“You're welcome,” said Hikaru, who seemed to sense that a key moment in their relationship was approaching, tightening his hands around the mug.

“Let me explain,” she whispered. “Let me tell you my story, and if you decide that I shouldn't move in after all, I'll understand.”

She took a deep breath and focused on conveying everything as clearly and fluently as possible, so that the breaks in searching for the right words or grammatical structures wouldn't distract her. She started from the beginning, saying that she met Kamil through mutual friends somewhere in the middle of high school. At first, everything was perfectly fine. She was in love and sure that he was the one. Hortensja's father didn't hide the fact that he had bad feelings about the boy and her mother too, but she never spoke about it openly to avoid unnecessary conflicts. She knew all too well that teenage hearts are too stubborn, and trying to pull them apart makes their bond even stronger.

Hortensja talked about how he took care of her after the accident and how he helped her. That moment he made her dependent on him, or rather he made sure that in addition to love, her eternal gratitude would keep him by his side. Kamil then began to show his true face. He persuaded her to move in with him so that he could take care of her more easily, and then he slowly set up her life the way he imagined it. He convinced her that she shouldn't go to college but to work somewhere, preferably somewhere close by and where he could control her, of course until they had children, then she would have to devote herself to them. The girl slowly lost herself in trying to meet his expectations. She didn't try new things, because Kamil only liked traditional cuisine. They didn't go out together because he didn't want to waste money on it, unless he went out with his friends, and even then it usually clashed with her schedule. He wasn't amused by her innocent jokes and antics or attempts at serious discussions, but he looked askance when she tried to go back to drawing, which she had abandoned for a long time after the accident. He cut her off from her high school friends and carefully watched everyone who appeared near her.

The longer their relationship lasted, the less often she resisted, but when she did, violence would come to the fore. She eventually became a docile version of herself, which she hated, but she convinced herself that everything was fine. After all, he took such good care of her.

“I saw the bruises on your arms,” Hikaru remembered.

“That's what I thought,” Hortensja sighed, adjusting her sleeves.

“I don't know if I can ask you this question, but did he force you to…”

The girl looked at him for a long moment and took even a moment longer to compose an answer but shook her head.

“No, but I don't know if he hadn't gone that far later. He didn't bring up the subject of money from my parents, either. Maybe he was afraid it was too soon. I don't know.” She shrugged but then cringed. “When he didn't like something, he punished me in his own way, by keeping silence, coming home late, flirting with others, so that I would have a guilty conscience. Over time, I learned to read what he expected and did certain things more out of habit than love.”

After this honest confession, she was afraid to look at a man's face. She was disgusted with herself and regretted every day that she had stayed in such a relationship for years.