Julia
I fiddle with my phone where it sits on the bed beside me, trying to muster up the courage to dial Anna’s number. I know I need to talk to someone, anyone, about what’s going on, but it feels like my heart might beat out of my damn chest if I have to say any of this out loud.
I got this phone a few weeks ago, after insisting that I needed some way to stay in touch with the outside world—my old one is still back at Andreo’s apartment, as far as I know, so it’s not like I have any numbers saved onto this one.
But I remember Anna’s, committing it to memory after she was so closely involved in planning the wedding, and I know I could call her up right now and tell her every little thing that’s going on inside my head.
I haven’t spoken to her for nearly two months, of course, and no doubt she will have a million questions about what has been going on with me since I married a man who was not my fiancé and took off with no explanation.
I can already picture the dozens of missed calls stacking up on my other phone as she tried to get hold of me, tried to get an explanation, anything to make sense of the mess of what had just happened.
Instead, she’s been met with silence. I wonder if Andreo has stayed in touch with her, formed some story about what happened and my part in all of it.
It wouldn’t surprise me if he has painted himself the victim of my terrible behavior, a monstrous woman willing to run off with his father rather than go through with a marriage to him.
I know it wouldn’t matter a bit what she knew of me, given that she had seen me rush off into that car with Antonio with no explanation.
Even looking back now, it feels as though all of that must have happened to someone else, another woman entirely, because I can’t wrap my head around that having been me.
But I need to know there’s still life outside this place.
I need to know that there’s a chance for me to get out and start over with someone, even if it’s just Anna.
I know it’s a huge weight to place on her shoulders, but I need something, anything to cling to right now, given the resounding silence that Antonio has met the news of my pregnancy with.
I’ve considered pressing him on it, going down to his office and asking just what it is he expects me to do with this silence that drags out around me at every turn.
I can’t stop turning over the look on his face when I first told him, like I had reached across the table and slapped him across the cheek.
Last night, when we were together again, had bridged a gap between us, and then I’d demolished that same bridge mere hours later by revealing something that would change everything.
Does his reaction have something to do with Andreo?
It must, right? I mean, his last child turned on him, abandoned him and betrayed him, judging by what I’ve heard from the staff when I eavesdrop on their conversations.
And even beyond that, it’s clear that finding out the way Andreo treated me has left a hefty mark on Antonio too. I can tell that he holds himself responsible for it, for teaching his son how to manage people to get what he wants out of them. I guess, on some level, I should blame him too.
But I just can’t. I might have compared them once, but I can see now that there’s a gulf between the two men.
They couldn’t be more different. Antonio’s control seems to rise from a place of genuine protectiveness, but Andreo—it was all about containing me, keeping me in place, making certain that I couldn’t taste what lay outside his grip so I wouldn’t get ideas about what I might take off to do.
Finally, I dial Anna’s number and lift the phone to my ear. I chew my lip as I wait for her to respond, not even sure what I’m going to say to her. If she even wants to talk to me. I mean—
“Hello?”
Her voice catches me off guard, and I feel a lump spring to my throat once more, gripping tight like a hand closed around my neck.
My God, it’s been so long since I spoke to her, I almost forgot the wash of relief that passes through me when I hear her voice.
She has known me since I was in high school, and has been there for me through the mess of everything that happened with my parents.
If it hadn’t been for her, I doubt I would have been able to make it out at all.
Her parents even let me sleep on their couch for a few weeks when I was first starting over.
And now, here I am again, coming to her with the mess that has been made of my life, already apologetic for dumping such a heavy weight on her once more.
“Anna? It’s—it’s me—”
“Julia?” She gasps as she recognizes my voice. “Jesus, Julia, where the fuck have you been?” she demands, sounding equal parts angry and relieved. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for weeks, last I saw of you—”
“I know, it was the wedding.”
“After Andreo left,” she finishes up, her voice taking on a sad edge. “God, Julia, I’m so sorry, I should have—I don’t know, I should have gone after him, I should have stopped you…” She trails off, and the aching guilt in her tone makes my heart sink.
I hate the idea that she has been holding herself responsible all this time for what happened, when it has nothing to do with her.
She has already shown in every way that she’s willing to go to great lengths to make sure I’m okay, and I would never hold it against her that she couldn’t drag my unwilling groom back to the altar.
“Is it true?” she asks, lowering her voice slightly. “About…about you and his father?”
Something cold and clammy creeps up the back of my neck, hearing that it has been put out into the world like that.
It’s not as though it comes as a complete shock—I mean, people talk, they always have.
But with such little connection to the outside world, it’s been possible for me to convince myself that I’m existing in a tiny bubble where none of this is happening for anyone else.
“Yes.” There’s no point lying to her, not if it has already gotten that far.
She sucks in a sharp breath, and I can almost picture the ways her eyes widen with that confirmation. “You’re kidding, right?” she demands. “You’re kidding. You married his father? What were you thinking?”
I take a deep breath. To make sense of this, I think I need to tell her everything, as crazy as it’s going to sound. She’s been there for me through so much, and the least I owe her in return is proof that I trust her enough to tell her everything.
And so, I spill it. Every detail, every one I can remember, in the chaos that is my mind right now, at least.
And she listens, interjecting every now and then with a question or a gasp or an exclamation.
There’s so much she didn’t know about my relationship with Andreo, and that was by design.
Even back then, when I was entirely in denial about the way he treated me, some subconscious part of me had wanted to keep her from seeing it in too much detail.
She had already given me so much, and it seemed unfair to burden her with that too.
I finish up by telling her about the pregnancy, the way that Antonio turned and walked out as though he could barely stand to look at me when he discovered the news. And she sits there on the other end of the phone, completely quiet for a long moment before she finally speaks again.
“Holy hell, Julia.”
“Yeah,” I reply, with a slightly shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know, I know…”
“Are you okay?”
I pause for a moment. It’s a question I haven’t really asked myself, and for good reason.
I don’t want to deal with the answer to it, not if I can avoid it, and I wish I could just lie and tell her that I’m fine, that nothing’s wrong, that as messy as this is, I will figure out a way to get through it one way or another.
“No,” I confess. “No, I’m really, really not.”
And with that, I break down again before I can stop myself, the tears dripping onto my lap as Anna does her best to soothe me from the other end of the line.
I wish she was here with me—I wish anyone was here with me, honestly, anyone who could lift some of the weight from my shoulders, anyone who didn’t work for Antonio.
Irina was kind enough in getting me the pregnancy test, but it’s different when I know everyone in this place reports back to him.
How could I trust any of them with anything, when I’m all too aware of that fact?
“What do you want to do? About the baby, I mean?”
“I…I want to keep it,” I reply. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, but I’m more sure of it now than ever. “I know it sounds crazy, but—”
“Julia, if that’s what you need, you know I’m with you,” she tells me firmly. “Are you going to have him in their life? Antonio, I mean?”
I part my lips. I wish I had an answer to that question, but it fails me.
I glance toward the door, almost willing him to appear so that he can tell me, one way or another, what he wants, what’s going on inside his head.
But I’m honestly not sure if it would be good for me to hear something like that right now.
Maybe I’m better off living in this in-between, in this fantasy, where I can convince myself that things might turn out just how I want them.
“I don’t know,” I confess, voice thick with tears. “I think he wants me to—” I stop myself in my tracks.
I don’t know what he wants from me. And whatever it is, I’m not sure that I’m willing to go through with it.
I just need to get out of here, to find a new start somewhere else.
His reaction has only underlined that for me, once and for all.
I might have tried to convince myself that there was really something between us, that he really cared about me, but the longer this silence goes on, the harder it is to trust that.
I feel like he’s only keeping me here because he can, not because he has any real feelings for me, and if I remain with my child, then I’ll be condemning them to the same fate.
“Come here, Julia,” Anna pleads with me. “Just…come move in for a little while. We can figure out what we’re going to do later, but you need to get out of there. Away from those men. Away from that family.”
My heart swells at the sound of those words.
I don’t know how to tell her this, but they’re everything I’ve been hoping to hear.
God, I wish I could reach through the phone, just give her a giant hug right then and there to thank her for how far she’s willing to go for me.
I’m not sure if I deserve it, but I will take whatever I can get, at least for now.
“I don’t know if I can even get out of this place,” I admit, and she makes an odd noise of shock.
“Wait, what?” she replies. “What do you mean?”
I tangle my fingers in my hair, shaking my head. “He has guards everywhere,” I tell her, lowering my voice slightly, though I doubt that even the cameras would be able to pick up what I’m saying right now. “And if I try to sneak out and come to you, one of them will stop me.”
“Jesus,” she mutters. “It sounds like a prison…”
“He says it’s so I can be safe.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he does,” she replies. “You can’t stay there, babe. You need to get out.”
I hesitate. It feels like such a big swing to make, running out on this place before I’ve given him a chance to figure out where he stands with all of it.
“I don’t know,” I confess. “I think…I think I need to give him some time first, you know? Let him figure out where he stands on all of this—”
She sighs, but she must be able to tell from the tone of my voice that she’s not going to get through to me.
“You call me if you need anything, alright?” she insists, and I smile slightly, beyond glad for a friend like her. I’m not sure I deserve someone so unwaveringly on my side, given the mess that has become of my life lately, but I’m sure as hell grateful that she’s still willing to be there for me.
“I will,” I murmur. “Thanks, Anna…”
We say our goodbyes, and I drop the phone onto the bed, staring down at the black screen for a moment as I try to make sense of what I need to do next.
I guess it’s only fair to give Antonio a chance, given that this baby belongs to him as much as me.
I’ve hardly given him the opportunity to figure out where he stands with all of it, what he wants to do.
Maybe he’ll walk through that door right now, tell me that he understands that he can’t keep me locked up in here and that he wants me to get out into the real world to raise our child, to leave behind the mess of his business and start over fresh.
I sigh. Or maybe I’m living in a goddamn fantasy world, given that I’m not exactly sure he’s even capable of something like that.
I push a hand through my hair and flop down onto the bed.
I might not know what happens next, but I do know one thing for sure—this baby has made everything a whole hell of a lot more complicated.
And I’m going to have to make some tough calls if I want to make sure my child has the life they deserve.