Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

I can’t remember a single time in family history where we ate with less
than eight people. If not a group of girls from school—whose parents hadn’t
yet realized whose house they were going to—then any number of the other
family members. On occasion, we’d even host certain diplomats, each Ricci
daughter putting on her best dress and fakest smile so Papá could pretend
everything was fine where business was concerned.
The lack of abundance here makes me uneasy, and I pause just inside the
threshold, unsure if I want to continue, or if we should just pack up and head
home. Keep living in our little bubble.
Since my realization on the jet, my feelings for Kal have shifted to the
forefront of my thoughts, blotting out everything else until I’m living and
breathing and bleeding for this man.
I’m not even sure if it makes sense, so I keep the sentiment to myself,
afraid that this secretly broken being before me doesn’t really want this
marriage to go on.
Afraid of what it means if he does.
Kal pauses just ahead of me, seeming to sense that I’m no longer at his
side. He turns, furrowing his brows, and moves to stand in front of me.
“Elena?”
Shaking my head, I try to dispel the sudden fog blanketing my brain, like
vaporized anxiety finding a home in my body. “I… I don’t feel very well.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just blinks down at me, until my
unease is due in part to his study. Finally, he smooths a hand down the front
of his black tailored suit, glancing over his shoulder at where my sisters lean
into each other, whispering conspiratorially.
“Do you want to leave?”
Chewing on the corner of my lip, I consider it, guilt slamming down on
my shoulders. How is it possible that a place, people I once longed for, now
feels like the singular bane of my existence?
“Say the word, little one, and I’ll have you back in Aplana before you can
take your next breath.” He inches forward, a husky look falling over his
handsome face. “Imagine all the fun we could be having.”
I almost fold. It’d be so easy to feign illness and let Kal take me back to
where the rest of the world ceases to exist.
To fall into each other and pretend like none of this is doomed.
Too easy, though. After the way she acted when I left the first time,
there’s no way Mamá would let me leave quietly. She’d probably burn