37. Emily
37
EMILY
I cinch the robe tighter around myself as I walk in a daze. I’m not sure of where I’m walking to, or when I plan to stop, but all I know is that I don’t want to be anywhere near her.
I should’ve stayed in bed. My fingers tighten around the robe and I pull it tighter still even though it’s as tight as it can be. I should’ve just waited for Konstantin to come back.
The stinging sensation returns to my nose and my lip trembles.
I’ve never felt so humiliated in my entire life.
“Emily Samovna?” Ivica’s warm voice snaps me out of my reverie. When she sees me, a worried expression dawns on her face and she immediately rushes over. “What happened, dear?”
I look at her, and even though there’s no malice in her eyes, I don’t know that I can trust her.
I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore.
Blinking away my tears, I put on a weak smile, as if I hadn’t just been stripped and interrogated by the devil herself.
“Nothing, Ivica,” I lie. “I’m just looking for something to eat, that’s all.”
“Oh,” she says, but her worried gaze doesn’t change. “Sit, please. I’ll bring you a plate from the kitchen.” She reaches out and takes her hand in mine. “ Bozhe moi , your hands are freezing. Do you want a hot drink? Some tea, perhaps?”
I shiver at the offer. I don’t want any more tea. I just want to disappear.
I just want to go somewhere where Alla will never be able to find me.
Where Konstantin will never be able to find me.
Ivica continues to look at me as she waits for my answer. Widening my smile, I tell her. “No, thank you, Ivica. But I would love some pancakes.”
She nods as she guides me to a nearby chair. “Okay, sit for a while. I’ll be right back, dear.”
Only after she is safely out of sight do I dare to let the tears start falling. Once they start, I can’t make them stop even if I want to.
“Kitty Cat?”
I raise my head in alarm when I hear Konstantin’s voice, and turn to find him walking towards me with concern in his eyes. Oh no …
I knew I shouldn’t have started crying. Now, he’s going to ask me why I’m crying.
The fabric of the robe scrunches under my fingers as he closes the distance and kneels down in front of me. He takes my hand in his, chasing the cold that’s wrapped itself around my heart away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I …” The words die on my lips.
I can’t tell him the truth.
Not after I heard what he said he was going to do to me.
Not after what Alla promised to do to me.
“What is it?” he asks as he cradles my face.
I wrack my brain for an answer, for something—anything—that I can tell him so that he might go away. Or convincing enough so that he won’t make me reveal the awful truth that I learned.
“I was just thinking about Nadia,” I lie.
It shocks me how easy it is to lie. As much as I hate doing it, I justify to myself that this is the only way I can keep myself safe.
From him. From his grandmother. From everyone here.
“About what?”
“About …” I start haltingly. “She hasn’t heard from me since the bachelorette party.” I settle on a topic I know he’d believe. “And the last time we spoke with each other, she had just dropped me off at the airport so that I could go to New York to deal with my sister’s death. She must be worried sick. I just … I just wish I can talk to her. Let her know that I’m okay.”
Konstantin looks at me for a while, and then something shifts inside of his eyes. Without releasing my hand, he stands up.
“Wait here,” he tells me, and then he walks away.
A few minutes later, he returns and hands my phone back to me.
“I kept this charged for you,” he explains. “I was planning on giving it back to you after the wedding. But since you’re staying a little longer …” He smiles. “Here.”
I look at the phone in his hand.
Staying a little longer …
Stop lying to me. I know what you’re really after. You’re just like your grandmother.
He places it in my palm, closing my other hand around it with a smile. “I know you won’t do anything that would upset me.”
Konstantin may be speaking, but all I can hear are Alla’s venomous words.
You will march yourself back into his bed, spread your legs like the good little whore that you are, and take every drop of his seed until you are pregnant.
Just then, Ivica arrives with a plate of pancakes. She yelps when she sees Konstantin and immediately bows.
“Konstantin Yurevich! I didn’t see you there. I was bringing some food for Emily Samovna. Had I known that you would be here as well, I?—”
“That’s alright, Ivica.” I interrupt her with a smile, one more genuine than before. “I didn’t tell you. You can leave the pancakes here, thank you.”
“Of course.” She does as I command. After giving both of us a short bow, turns and walks away.
“Go ahead,” Konstantin turns his attention back to me. “Take the time you need. The castle is wired with an international data line, so it’ll be as if you never even left the States. When you’re ready, I’ll be in my office.”
His office … I’m not sure that I’m ready to find him there after everything that’s happened this morning.
“Okay.” It’s all I can manage to say.
Konstantin walks away, and I wait until he’s out of view before turning my phone on. Just like he says, it’s fully charged. As soon as I turn it on, a stream of missed messages starts rolling in. Every one of them is from my parents asking if I’ve made any progress on finding out anything else about Olivia’s life insurance policy.
But as I scroll towards the recent ones, Nadia’s texts start taking over.
Every one of them is asking if I’m doing okay and if there’s anything she can do to help me.
My heart sinks the longer I scroll. She must be worried sick that I haven’t responded. A few of them must have been sent when she was drinking. But it’s the most recent ones that stab at my heart.
NADIA: Emily, what’s going on? Talk to me, please!
NADIA: Are you okay? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you!
NADIA: Please call me back. If I don’t hear back from you soon, I’m going to NYPD.
“Oh no”.
What had started as a lie to stop Konstantin from finding out about what his grandmother did to me turned out to be the awful truth.
I have to call her.
I scroll to her contact info and press the call button. Please answer. Please, please, answer! The line rings, and my anxiety crawls ever higher.
“Emily? Is that you?”
“Nadia! Yes, oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
“Oh my god!” she says on the other end. “Thank goodness. I thought you might’ve, I don’t know, gotten kidnapped or murdered or something. Because when I went over to your sister’s apartment, there was police tape everywhere. Apparently some guy got murdered there the other day, and you weren’t answering and so I thought … I thought that you …”
Oh, Nadia … Guilt washes over me again.
“Nadia it’s okay.” I muster up a weak laugh. “I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are.” She breathes a sigh of relief. But then, her voice gets sharper. “What’s going on? Wait … where the hell are you? I haven’t heard a damn thing from you since Italy!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Panicking on the spot, I drill my brain for options. If I tell her I’m in Croatia, she’ll have a hundred more questions. And I have a feeling that if I were to start telling her about Konstantin, about the deal we made, and about the truth of why he’s keeping me here …
I can’t tell her. I can’t make her worry about me when she can’t do anything to help.
So, despite my own reservations, I lie again. “I’m staying at another friend’s place in Brooklyn. But I must’ve caught something on the way back from Italy because I’m as sick as a dog right now.”
“For almost two weeks?” Her voice lilts higher at the end. “Jesus, are you okay?”
“Yeah … I’m starting to turn around. It’s been pretty hard.”
“Well, which neighborhood in Brooklyn are you in? Do you need me to come bring you anything?”
“N-No!” I stammer. “No, you don’t have to. I’m getting better. It’s just … I don’t want to get you sick. Y’know, in case I might still be infectious.”
God, I hope she believes me.
“Okay …” she says slowly. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. You could have at least texted me back this whole time.”
“I know. But I didn’t want you to worry.”
Somehow, I thought lying would be hard. But the words are coming out quick and easy, as if I’ve known how to do this my entire life.
“Not texting me back made me even more worried.”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t have done that,” I say sadly.
Nadia goes quiet. I check to make sure the line is still connected.
“Emily, I know you’re not sick, and you don’t have to keep lying to me.”
My heart shoots into my throat. “What do you mean.”
“Look, I know you and your sister were close. And I know it can’t have been easy to fly back on such short notice to deal with her death. You needed the space, and I totally respect that. I just ….” She pauses, as if she’s searching for the right word. “I just wish you would’ve let me help you. You don’t have to bear the weight of the world yourself.”
Her voice is soft, and all it does is compound my guilt.
“Thanks, Nadia,” I tell her. “That means a lot.”
“I love you, okay?”
“I love you too,” I insist.
She laughs sheepishly. I hear bedsprings, like she’s rolling around. “Wanna get dinner soon? There’s this new Greek restaurant that opened up in Astoria that I’ve been dying to go to. But Lawrence isn’t interested. He tells me that it might set unrealistic expectations for our home meals together after the wedding.”
I can’t help laugh at that suggestion. “As if you ever plan on cooking.”
“I know, right?” She exclaims. “So, what do you say? Wanna go tonight?”
Tonight …
“I …”
“It’s totally cool if you can’t. It’s super short notice, I know, and we probably can’t even get a table since they’re going to be slammed with reservations. But I really want to see you. I’ve missed you. And I’ve just been so worried that maybe … I don’t know, that something might’ve happened to you. It’s good to hear from you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I admit. I wish I can tell you everything that’s happened in the last ten days. “Tell you what. Text me the place and I’ll let you know if maybe we can—I don’t know—go check it out sometime soon?”
What are you doing, Emily? You know you can’t possibly keep that promise!
“I can do that!” Nadia’s enthusiasm only makes me feel even worse about digging myself deeper in a hole. “I’ll shoot that text over in a bit.” Then, she adds softly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Em. It’s good to hear from you.”
Except I’m not.
I’m anything but okay.
I have to get out of here.