Chapter 36: Behind the Frozen Silence

Chapter 36: Behind the Frozen Silence
The morning came with a soft light penetrating the room's curtains. The scent of last night's rain still lingered in the air, and the sunlight danced gently on the dishevelled sheets.
Vanya slowly opened her eyes, looking at the side of the bed next to her which was already empty. She remembered that last night they had made love again after the emotional and romantic incident at the art gallery. This morning, the blanket beside her was neatly folded, a sign that Damian had woken up first.
She put on a light gown, styled her hair casually, and then decided to go out to look for Damian.
In the dining room, a servant had prepared breakfast. But there was only one cup of coffee, still steaming, on the table. Vanya knew it was Damian's.
Vanya looked around, but the man was not there. One of the oldest female servants bowed respectfully.
"Mr. Volkov is in the backyard, Miss," she said in a careful tone. "He has been there since early morning."
"Thank you," Vanya replied briefly.
She walked towards the large glass door that opened onto the yard. The morning air immediately touched her skin. Cold, sharp, and full of the scent of pine.
Damian stood there, his back to the villa, wearing a black shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was slightly messy, and his face was slightly bowed. He was holding something in his hand, a small silver locket that he kept spinning between his fingers. Vanya knew it was the same locket Damian had held a few days ago.
Vanya watched him for a moment from a far. There was something about the way Damian stood... not just calm, but as if he was restraining something heavy. As if a world was collapsing inside his head, and he was trying not to drown with the ruins.
She stepped closer slowly. "A quiet morning," Vanya said softly.
Damian turned, just a glimpse. His gaze was flat, no smile like the night before.
"Yes," he replied shortly, his voice hoarse. "Did you sleep well?"
Vanya swallowed. "Quite well," she said softly, "but... I don't think you did."
Damian did not answer. He just stared at the lake in front of him, his fingers still clutching the locket tightly. For a moment, Vanya saw a faint small name engraved on its surface.
"Is that locket yours?" Vanya asked carefully.
"An old relic," Damian replied quickly. "It's nothing important."
"It seems important, if you still keep it. This is the second time I've seen you holding it so emotionally."
This time Damian looked at her, but his eyes were cold. Different from the gentle and lively gaze of last night.
"Don't ask unnecessary things," he said sharply. "You are not here for that."
The words slapped Vanya without a sound.
She looked down, trying to swallow the sudden sting of pain. "Fine," she said faintly, "I just wanted to talk."
"Too much talk only causes problems," Damian retorted. "You should know that."
Silence swallowed them. The morning wind blew softly, making Vanya's hair dance on her shoulders. She looked at the man for a long time, trying to find the remnants of warmth that had been so real last night. But all that was there was a thick wall, cold and impenetrable.
Finally, she turned, leaving Damian by the lakeside. But as she walked back to the villa, her mind wouldn't stop churning.
In her room, Vanya sat at a small writing desk near the window. She opened the brown leather journal that she had been filling since she found it in the early days of her abduction. At first it was to record Damian's behaviour, but now it was more like a place to escape the feelings she couldn't speak aloud.
She wrote slowly with her pen, the letters neat but feeling heavy:
"Today, Damian is different again. Cold. Like a stone wall refusing to be touched. I know last night meant something to me, but perhaps not to him.
I think I'm starting to understand that the wound inside him is deeper than I know.
He is like a man born to bear sins that are not even his own."
She stopped writing for a moment, looking out the window. Damian was still out there, standing in the same spot and not moving. Like a statue. Like someone being punished by his own thoughts.
Vanya wrote again.
"There is something holding him back from happiness. I don't know what, but I can see it every time he tries to smile. As if inside him, a hand from the past keeps pulling him back into the darkness."
She closed the journal slowly, looking at the last page with a gentle but weary gaze.
"Damian..." she murmured, "what are you really hiding?"
"Damian is a puzzle that never wants to be solved. But I, somehow, want to be a part of that puzzle. There is a side of him that is broken but beautiful, cruel but fragile. And perhaps, I am starting to love the part he even hates about himself."
She closed the journal, looking at the candle that was almost gone.
In the distance, she could hear Damian's voice in another room. Heavy footsteps, perhaps restless. And amidst the soft night sounds, Vanya felt something. The wall that had separated them earlier... was now beginning to crack.