Chapter 29
Zoya
Ihave a massive case of first-day nerves.
Even after a long soak, I can't seem to relax.
I stare at my clothes for way too long, eventually picking out a simple jeans-and-top combo.
In the mirror, I'm my own worst critic, fixing my shirt and over-analyzing every detail.
It doesn't even feel real yet, but it is happening. I'm officially a college student.
I’m looking at my rings on the dresser, and that diamond is a lot to handle this early in the morning.
I pick up the engagement ring and just hesitate.
It’s so loud and clearly costs a fortune.
It feels weird wearing it to class. At the same time, I really don't want to kick off my first day with an argument with Alexei because I left it at home.
I know exactly where that conversation goes. I give in and put them both on.
I head downstairs and find Alexei waiting by the car.
He looks up the second he sees me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, taking in every single detail of what I’m wearing.
Before I can say anything, he moves toward me.
He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me into him.
"You look beautiful today, as always, Vedma," he says, warmly.
I chuckle, trying to keep the mood light. "I’m going to be late," I remind him.
Instead of releasing me, he leans down, kissing my forehead, then my lips.
It’s a slow kiss that leaves me breathless.
When he pulls away, I’m still processing it.
He takes a step back to pull the car door open for me, looking pleased with himself.
I sink into the seat, my mind a mess, while he sits down next to me, cool and collected.
We’re barely out of the driveway before his hand is on my thigh. His thumb moves in circles, making it hard to think about anything else. “Make sure you focus in class,” he says, sounding genuinely concerned. “I don’t want you to have to repeat a course.”
I look down at his hand, then back at him. "Seriously? A lecture? What's next? Are you going to start packing my lunch and checking my homework? Or did you mysteriously become my parent?"
"I’m your husband," he says so as a matter of fact. To him, that’s the only reason he needs. "I want you to succeed. We spent enough money to skip the waitlist at this college, so the least you can do is pass. Make me proud, okay?"
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Professor."
He chuckles softly, and I focus my attention back on the road.
We drive by the city as I watch it blur with pedestrians and buses, people hustling from one place to another, trying to get to their destination.
And then the university area starts to appear - floods of young men and women walking hastily on the sidewalk, their movements quick, probably trying to get to their classes early.
Soon I’ll be just like that. The thought of the experience makes my heart race.
The university gate looms ahead, and I quickly decide. “Hey, Alexei?”
“Yes, Vedma,” he replies, never taking his eyes off the road.
“Can you drop me off here?”
His attention snaps out from the road to look at me. “Why?” He frowns. “You are putting on heels, and it’s a long walk to the gate. I don’t mind taking you all the way.”
The easy way never does it with Alexei. With either of us, even. So, I reach over and grab the steering wheel.
“Vedma, stop!” His voice goes sharp. “You’re gonna crash us!” The car jerks a little.
“Drop me off here,” I tell him. “I don’t want to show up in a luxury vehicle on my first day.”
He gives me an annoyed look, then stops the car.
“Thank you, babe,” I say with my brightest, most innocent smile. I kiss his cheek quickly, rewarding good behavior.
The handle clicks, but the door stays shut. I stare at the lock in disbelief before glaring over at him. "Seriously? Why is it locked? I need to get to class."
He shakes his head, his expression playful but firm. Pointing a slow finger to his mouth, his eyes locked on mine, Alexei murmurs. "Try again. Only this time, aim for the lips. I don't do 'goodbye' kisses on the cheek."
I roll my eyes and lean across the center console, aiming for a quick hit-and-run kiss. Just enough to get the door unlocked. But Alexei doesn’t do "quick." The second our lips touch, his hand slides to the back of my neck, anchoring me in place. He doesn't just kiss me, he takes over.
We’re there for what feels like forever, his thumb tracing my throat while he ruins my lipstick. When he finally breaks away, I’m gasping for air. My mouth feels bruised, and my brain is complete mush. I can't even find the door handle anymore.
I shove the door open and stumble out, gulping down the fresh air. My legs feel like jelly, and my heels aren't helping. I put a hand to my mouth, certain my lips look bruised and obvious to everyone on campus.
The whir of the power window makes me turn around. Alexei is leaning toward the opening, looking way too satisfied with himself.
"Vedma,” he calls. “I'm not interested in getting a call from the principal today. Be on your best behavior." I don’t know where he got the idea that there are principals in university but okay.He waits until I’m a good ten feet away before he loses his mind. "Love you!"
The shout cuts through the morning quiet, making me jump.
A group of girls nearby looks from the expensive car to me, grins spreading across their faces.
I don't look back. I just wave a hand in the air and keep moving, praying for the ground to swallow me whole. Between my bruised-looking lips and the sheer embarrassment, I’m already having a stellar first day.
I breeze through the paperwork, collecting my schedule and heading straight for my first class.
“Introduction to Journalism” in building D.
Walking into that lecture hall is overwhelming.
So many students packed in, filling every seat; young kids barely out of high school mixed with older adults.
Some people look older than me, which is oddly comforting. I’m not alone in being a late starter.
The professor announces we’re stuck in groups for the semester and starts rattling off names. I end up with four strangers. The first guy has sandy brown hair and looks way too relaxed for a first day. He holds out a hand. "I’m Kostya."
The guy next to him just nods, his dark eyes scanning the room like he’d rather be anywhere else. "Yegor."
A girl with a blonde ponytail gives me a bright, welcoming look. "I’m Yulia."
"And I’m Larisa," the last girl adds, leaning forward with a small, genuine smile.
“Hi, I’m Zoya Romanov,” I say, waving shyly. For a moment, I think everything is going to be fine and normal, but then Larisa’s eyes drop to my hands, and she gasps.
“Holy shit, is that real?” she says, pointing at my ring. I immediately feel my face heat up as I pull my hand back.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
Larisa’s eyes go even wider. “You must be married to a billionaire or something. That’s one fat diamond.”
Kostya clears his throat. “Girls, you can talk about this later. We need to discuss what topic we’re going to do for our journalism project.”
Yegor nods in agreement. “Yeah, we should probably focus on the assignment.”
The rest of the class goes by in a blur as we discuss potential story ideas and argue about which angle would be most interesting, and by the time the professor dismisses us, we’ve settled on investigating the rising cost of student housing in Moscow and how it’s affecting low-income students.
We exchange contact information and agree to meet up later in the week to start our research, and then everyone starts packing up their things.
I’m gathering my notebook and pens when Larisa and Yulia come up to me.
“Where’s your next class?” Yulia asks.
I pull out my schedule and stare at it, feeling lost. “I don’t know. It’s my first day, and I honestly have no idea where anything is.”
Larisa takes a look at the schedule over my shoulder. “Oh! That’s our next class too. Come on, we’ll show you where it is.”
“Thank God!”
As we walk across campus together, Larisa glances at me. “So is this your first time starting school, or did you drop out before?”
“It’s my first time,” I say.
“How old are you?” she asks.
“I’m twenty-five. I’ll be twenty-six this year.”
“Oh, really? Wow, that’s cool,” she says. “I’m twenty-two.”
“You’re young,” I say.
“Yeah. I actually would have been in my second year if I hadn’t dropped out.”
“You dropped out? Do you mind me asking why?” I ask curiously
“Financial reasons,” she says. “But I managed to come back this year.”
“Really? How did you manage that?”
“I took out a loan,” she explains. “It wasn’t easy to get approved because the bank didn’t think I had the proper means to pay it back, but I finally convinced them.”
“You took a loan to come back to school?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah, everybody does it,” she says with a shrug. “It’s just how it works if you don’t have rich parents paying for everything.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod. We continue our short journey in silence, and after a while, Larisa starts pointing out different buildings and giving me tips.
“That’s the library over there,” she chirps.
“It’s the best place to study if you need some quiet time.
Then the cafeteria on the west side has the cheapest food if you’re on a budget.
There’s a little shop near the sciences building that sells used textbooks for half the price of the bookstore.
Oh, and if you ever need to print something, go to the computer lab in building C, not the main one in building F.
They charge less per page and give a discount if you become a regular. ”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully. “This is really helpful.”
“No problem,” she says with a smile. “I know all the tricks to survive here on a tight budget.”
The second class goes by smoothly, and by the time it’s over, it’s lunchtime.
“Want to grab lunch with us?” Larisa asks.