Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He cuts off my air supply, and I claw at his hands. When that doesn’t work, I scratch at his face. My nails tear into any flesh I can reach, and it only makes him more volatile. He releases his hold on my throat, only to reach for the cigarette in his mouth.
I watch in horror as he drags it a hair’s breadth from my throat. Smoke wisps between us, and heat rolls off the flame red cylinder as I struggle to stay stock-still. He can’t do this. He wouldn’t scar me like my father scarred my mother.
I want so desperately to believe that there is good in him. I haven’t fallen for a sadist. Emotion leaks from my eyes, forging rivers down my cheeks and betraying my weakness.
That weakness is also my salvation. My tears are the only thing to break him from his spell. His grasp on me falls away, but his lips relay his disgust with one final parting blow.
“It would be the least of what you deserve.”
“What do you think?”
Talia hands me a catalog, gesturing to a photo of a crib inside.
I offer her a gentle smile. “It looks like it would match the theme.”
She nods and closes the catalog with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing, honestly. There are so many decisions to make, and just so much stuff. I don’t know what’s necessary and what’s not, and I have no idea if any of it’s safe. I think I’m going to be a terrible mother.”
“You aren’t going to be a terrible mother. You’ll learn as you go. That’s what mothers do.”
She shrugs. “I guess so.”
“You’re excited, aren’t you?”
She taps her fingers on the sofa next to her. “I never thought I wanted to be a mother. I’m anxious, and I don’t know if that makes me an awful person.”
“It doesn’t.”
I know this isn’t easy for her. This culture is entirely new to her. But even for a veteran like me, it never gets any easier.
“Are you okay?” Talia asks.
I blink at her and nod automatically. I wasn’t prepared for the question. We’ve been spending time together over the past two weeks, but we aren’t at the stage that I’d consider divulging all my secrets. I’ve never had a friend before, and I hardly know what’s appropriate.
“You seem different.” Her voice is quiet, and I can tell this is foreign territory for her too. She’s spent the past year of her life fighting for survival, and I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy transition into her new life.
“I think I’m tired,” I say.
In truth, it isn’t just exhaustion. I’m one foot in the grave already. When I look in the mirror, I see a haunting reflection so reminiscent of my mother that it terrifies me. It’s been two weeks since Nikolai’s outburst, and if I were holding my breath waiting for an apology, I’d have starved of oxygen by now. As far as I can tell, he’s only been home in the late hours, and he’s made it a point to avoid me.
He might be fine, but I’m not. Inside, I’m withering. A slow death is torture, and I can feel it happening. Every night, I replay his words. I can’t forget them. And I can’t go on living like this.
I won’t become my mother.
Mischa was right, and I should have listened to him long ago. If I don’t get out now, I’m doomed to repeat history.
What Talia doesn’t know is that these visits with her will be the only thing that saves my life. Today will be the last time I see her, and it isn’t fair. I don’t want to abandon her to this world without a friend, but I have no choice.
The truth aches to spill from my lips. She deserves that much. But I’m not naïve enough to believe that our every move isn’t being recorded. Talia was quick to point it out on our first visit. I think the cameras bother her, but I also think she was trying to warn me not to speak out of turn. Our friendship can only be as deep as the words we’re able to admit out loud.
“Solnyshko.” Alexei enters the room, hand delivering some tea to his wife. “Magda sent this for you.”
“Thank you.” She smiles at him, and her love for him is not false. She does care for him. She sees him as her savior. And as happy as I am for her, it hurts me too.
“How is Nika treating you?” Alexei turns to me, his blue eyes roaming over my face with obvious concern.
Part of me feels like I could be honest with him. I could tell him the truth, and he would not hold it against me or betray me. But it would be a betrayal to Nikolai, considering how strained relations already are with his brother. As awful as he was to me, I can’t bring myself to do that to him.