Chapter 20 #2
“No, he’s busy getting the studio back in order. Yes, you can send the renovators in on Thursday. It’s been a calamity, but nothing we can’t get through. You will need to wait. No, he’s just not in the mood. Don’t worry about it.”
He even speaks in this fake-professional voice I’ve not heard from him before. As though he’s a high-end personal assistant.
I’m so shocked I refrain from speaking until he puts down the phone, but words roll from my mouth hurriedly as soon as nobody can overhear us. “Renovators? Are you crazy? They might be assassins in disguise. Or scouts. Or just sell information about our defenses once they finish the job!”
Victor sighs and starts pacing the room.
“I know, there’s risk to it, but the structural stability of the roof above the studio needs assessing.
I’ve gone over it in my head a lot, and decided that you could stay in the panic room in the meanwhile, especially since you need rest, and I’ll plant the seed that you left, in case people ask. ”
“And who are you in this scenario? I mumble, hating everything about his plan yet unable to argue, because I’m in no condition to work on the house, nor will be within the next... fuck knows how long.
He clears his throat, blushing a little. “Your apprentice and assistant. The less they understand our connection, the better.”
“Am I not good enough to be your lover now that I can’t fucking hold anything with these hands?
” I growl, slowly opening and closing my palm, but it feels swollen.
Now that my consciousness is coming back in full force, I’m beginning to understand how badly I’ve been burned, and I feel as if I’ve swallowed lead.
“Seva. What are you talking about?” Victor scoots at my side and paints a shape over one of my injured hands.
“First of all, you will get better, and second, you could lose both your arms and I’d still be here.
I just thought it’s a good precaution to keep our relationship secret in case someone wanted to use it against you. ”
“How do you know if I’ll get better?” I snap, but the sight of him recoiling in fear brings me no solace.
I hate myself for scaring him when all he wants is to take care of me.
“You don’t know that... I might never paint.
I might be a pathetic wreck of a man ‘til the day someone finally takes my head off my shoulders.”
“Hey… hey… you won’t be,” Victor whispers, fingertips back on me. My hands aren’t even safe to squeeze. “You’re far too determined. If you struggle with your hands, I bet you’d just paint with your feet, or do these full body abstract paintings, rolling around the canvas.”
He’s joking, since he knows we both dislike those, but I’m unable to find an ounce of joy in it.
Any time I move my face, it hurts, and I dread to find out what’s under the bandages.
I went through my whole life strong, capable, and…
well, yes, fucking stunning. Call me vain, but I have no idea how to live without my face .
Even with my enemies looming over me, I wasn’t willing to get plastic surgery to disappear into the crowd. And Victor? He might be still riding the adrenaline after the attack, but once the bandages come off, how will he really feel about me?
“Let’s see my face,” I tell him, steadying my voice.
I know it must be bad the second he looks alarmed.
“Oh no… you don’t need to stress out. It’s bad before it gets better.
I’m sure you know that about burns. You’re all swollen, babe.
I read up a lot about it in the past days.
We had the right stuff in the first aid box, so it should heal well over time. ”
“I want to see. I want us both to see my new ugly face. Maybe that’ll scare you off.”
Victor stalls but strokes my knee anyway. “Why do you want to scare me off? Did I do something wrong? You told me not to take you to the hospital.”
I shut my eyes, imagining my life without him. Like before but worse, not just because of how weak I now am, but because having his sunshine presence taken away would make solitude infinitely worse.
He deserves better.
I’ve lived selfishly my whole life, but this one time, someone else’s happiness feels more important.
“You should go. I trust you to not talk to the police. I have cash. You could take it with you and start a new life. Maybe go to art school?”
Victor’s lips tremble as though he’s about to cry, and I hate to see it when all I want to do is hold him, but I can’t even do that, because I’m aching all over.
“Don’t do this, Seva. Please. I’m more capable than you think. I can take care of you. I’ll make you pelmeni, I’ll fix the house, and I’ll kill fucking assassins if I have to. Don’t underestimate me or my love for you. It’s selfless and wants nothing in return. ”
I didn’t even cry when my mother died. At the time, it seemed inevitable, and the only thing in my heart was that she wouldn’t have to suffer from her illness any longer.
But the tears in Victor’s eyes break something in me, and fat, hot droplets roll down my cheeks again.
I’ve been on my own for so long, with no one to care for me, I find it difficult to imagine he wants to stand at my side.
“I don’t want to entrap you.”
Victor takes a deep breath and sits down to hug my leg. When he kisses my knee, another sob tears out of my aching chest. He’s the purest fucking person I’ve ever known.
“You’re not. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
It’s wrong. He must be out of his mind to stay with me here.
But I’m not good like him, so I won’t force him out. I’ll take what he wants to give even if I know he deserves better than what’s under my bandages.