I open my eyes and stare up at the plain white of the ceiling in Milan's bedroom. Sleep still tugs at me, and I'm slow to take things in. But the first thing I notice is that Milan is gone. This drags me from the remnants of sleep. Panic tugs at me.

Where is he? How long have I been asleep? He left me... I close my eyes again, rationalizing things to keep the irrational panic at bay. He probably left you so that he wouldn't wake you up. After all, it's not like he has nothing better to do besides watch movies. And he most likely didn't want to scare you if you woke up with him next to you.

I take a shaky breath and sit up. The initial fear fades out, and calm takes over for the first time in months. The bedroom is really nice. I didn't notice last time I was here because I was tired and scared. Now I'm feeling better, and I'm not as scared. It actually seems like things might be okay for the first time in years.

A soft smile breaks out on my face as I look at the room. There are little touches that make the room Milan's scattered about. Despite the minimalist approach to the room — black carpet, white walls, simple silver shades, and plain black or chrome furniture — I can still tell it's his.

His chrome bookcase is full of books from all genres, and one is lying on his desk, face down. The desk is tidy. His pens and pencils are neatly piled into a round pencil container. Each one of them is perfectly straight, and there's not room for another pen or pencil in the small container. He has two notebooks set neatly to the side, and a calendar underneath the glass cover that protects the desk. Otherwise, the desk is clean. Just like his car.

Unlike most guys, he doesn't leave clothes lying all over. The rug is vacuumed and doesn't have anything on it. Every item in the room has been neatly organized or placed into its place. His guitar is on its stand in one corner, and besides a textbook that was left on the armchair beside the bed, nothing else is out of order.

I wonder briefly if he's OCD. But seeing the little signs of disorder in the room — his scattered books, the abandoned i-pod on the dresser, and the music magazines piled haphazardly on the end table — I figure he isn't. He just likes his things neat.

A knock sounds softly on the door.

"Yes?" I ask, wondering why the person knocked.

Milan pokes his head around the door and notices my examination of the room. He blushes. "I was going to clean the magazines and books up. Just didn't get a chance."

"It's fine." I smile at him, and then I get up, heading for the glass and chrome bookshelf. "You have so many books," I say, kneeling on the floor to look at them.

Milan comes over and sits beside me. He pushes aside the glass door and pulls out Heidi. "You remember the day we met? You told me your name was Heidi." He laughs and sets the hardcover collector's copy into my lap. "Out of all the names you could pick, that was the one that fit the least."

I blush, but laugh at myself. "Yeah, I know. I'm reading Heidi." My fingers trace over the gold leaf on the cover, and awe wells up in me. I've never seen books so beautiful. The library doesn't have ones like this.

"You can read anything you like from my collection or the library downstairs," he says, smiling at my surprise. "I know you had to leave your stuff at your house, so you don't have anything here. What's mine is yours now."

My eyes widen as I look up at him. "Why?" I find myself asking.

He frowns, and his smile becomes uncertain. "Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?" I ask, avoiding his gaze.

He hesitates. "It's the right thing to do..."

I catch the uncertainty in his voice and shake my head. "Maybe, but that's not really why, is it?"

Milan bites his lip and shakes his head. "You looked so lost. So lonely... When I saw those boys push you at the bus stop, something about you just made me want to protect you. I mean, I would've helped anyway because I don't let people abuse others without stepping in. But when I looked at you and saw the look in your eyes, I just knew... I couldn't walk away."

"Do you want to?" My fingers tremble as they continue tracing the design on the book cover. I try to disguise the tremble in my voice with a casual tone.

He laughs. "Nope. I'm good with being a prisoner in this case."

"A prisoner?" I finally look up. "I didn't want to force you into anything you didn't want, Milan. If you feel like I'm doing something to make you help, I'll go."

He rolls his eyes. "Go where? Anyway, you aren't forcing me to help. I want to, and so do my parents."

A smile spreads across my face. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, fair lady," he teases.

My smile fades. "Seriously though... Thank you. You have no idea how much your help has meant."

He gets up and switches the lamp on. It's dark outside now, and the room was getting really gloomy. The lamp lights the whole area with a cheery, warm glow. I look down at his copy of Heidi and smile, opening the inside cover.

"Well..." Milan settles into the armchair and puts his feet up on the footrest. "I'm more than happy to help. Truth be told, I like having you around. Kind of gets lonely being the only young adult in the house. I love my parents to death, but having someone my own age around is really nice."

"Do you have siblings?" I ask, coming over to sit on the bed.

He nods, smiling. "A brother. But he's off on his own. In college and engaged, if you can believe it." Milan shakes his head and laughs. "He's one lucky guy. His wife is an angel, I swear."

I can't keep the silly smile off my face. The last time I did this much smiling was probably at school the day of my tenth birthday. The day everything went wrong. I push those memories away because it hurts too much, and I want to keep this happy feeling for as long as possible. Perhaps I should care more that my mom is miserable, but right now, I'm discovering for the first time in forever that I can be happy. That I can be normal.

There are no words to describe how happy that makes me feel.

"Will he be coming home in a few weeks for Christmas?" I ask, setting the book beside me and curling up on the bed.

Milan grins. "Yup! You'll love him. I promise. He said he's bringing his fiancée too. We haven't seen her since they came up over the weekend four months ago. My mom dotes on that girl... She's like the sister I never had, and my brother couldn't be more in love." He sighs.

"What's wrong?" I look at him closely, wondering why he seems sad.

"I just hope I get that lucky someday," he says, trying to smile. "They're just so happy. I know I'm not ready to get married. I still have to go to college, get a job, and find a place where I can actually raise a family. But I think about it a lot when I see the two of them together."

"You'll find someone, and you're going to make her the luckiest girl ever," I tell him, laughing. "You're not going to have any problem finding someone to love and raise a family with." The smile drops off my face, and I stare down at my lap.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad," Milan says, reaching out to take my hand.

"It isn't your fault," I mumble. "It just... Thinking about families and getting married always makes me sad."

"Why? I'd count myself the luckiest guy on earth if you were my wife," he says.

I look up, eyes wide. Then I bite my lip, fighting off the shy smile that I know wants to come out. The familiar heat of a blush creeps into my cheeks, and he looks embarrassed. "Really?" I ask, breathless. "You really think so? I have such a horrible past, though, and... And... Who wants someone who's been broken, anyway?" I trail off in a whisper.

Milan shakes his head. "You aren't broken, Meri. You're a beautiful young lady, and of course anyone who marries you will be lucky to have you. I may not know you very well, but no one fakes the beautiful spirit you have in your situation. I've seen some people who've come through abusive situations, and not many of them are happy people. Not many of them are still forgiving. Most of them fall into the same problems that their parents had."

The smile I was fighting finally wins out, but it's tinged with sadness. "Well, forgiveness is all I have left. If I don't forgive, I'll hate my mom, and I can't do that. She took care of me for ten years of my life. I might not have had everything, but she took care of me. Loved me. It's my turn to return the favor, no matter how hard it is. If I don't love her, who will?"

"See... That right there is what I'm talking about. She's beaten you, called you names, nearly killed you, and allowed other people to do the same. Yet you still forgive and love her." He sighs and smiles at me. "What you've learned or inherently have is so special. Not many people hold onto that innocence and sweetness even in good situations. You did in a situation that most people can't imagine."

My eyes gloss over with tears, and Milan looks blurry. "I try. It's hard. Sometimes I end up hating myself because it's not enough, and sometimes..." I pause, unsure he should know this. Once again, I choose to continue. "Sometimes I wanted to die. I even pulled out the knife to end it. But I couldn't do it because I knew she needed me. And because I knew that there was no one who would stop either of us from killing ourselves if we chose to. I might not have had someone to stop me, but I wasn't going to let her live the same sad story."

He gets up and hugs me. "Well, you have every reason to keep living now. I'm here. My parents are here. We all love you, even if we've only known you for three days. And you have your mom to live for. She'll get help, and she'll get better. You'll see."

I smile and hug him back. "I hope so. But you'll be here no matter what, right?"

He squeezes me a little tighter. "No matter what. I promise."

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