39
Vadim left a little while ago. I didn’t have the courage to go with him to the airport, but it’s probably better this way. Better for him. So he wouldn’t see me cry, show my regret, crumble... Throw myself into his arms and beg him to stay.
Why on earth did I push him to go?
Stupid question.
So he could follow his dreams.
And because I love him.
Saying our goodbyes in his apartment was heartbreaking.
I can’t imagine going through the same scene in a crowded terminal.
Who knows, maybe I would have tried to stuff myself into his suitcase or wriggle underneath his clothes, just to be able to board the plane with him.
I might have set off the fire alarm just to have more time to say goodbye, to look into his eyes and kiss him one more time.
In the end, it was probably better that I stayed away, even if I feel like I’m being punished for it now, as I cry alone in my room. My pillow has seen it all by now. I can soak it with tears, bunch it up, turn it over, and start again: it absorbs everything, stoic and silent.
By now, Vadim must have already taken off. He’s en route to Russia, thousands of miles away from me. I start sobbing all over again.
“Alma, honey, can I come in?”
“Not now, Mom.”
“What about me?” Lily asks in a timid voice.
“No, leave me alone.”
Neither of them take any notice, coming into my room anyway.
My little sister curls up at the foot of my bed, her knees pulled up under her chin.
She tries to make herself as small as possible.
My mother sits down beside me, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to my wet cheeks. I turn over and face away from her.
“Alma, listen to me. I think you’re old enough for us to have this conversation. And since Lily is here, she might as well hear it too. You both know that your father is not always the perfect husband. I believe his mistresses are now common knowledge.”
“Mistresses… plural?” Lily whispers indignantly.
“It doesn’t matter how many there are, how many there have been, or how many there will be.
The only thing that matters is what I’m going to tell you now.
I’ve asked myself these questions a billion times, questions that both of you will inevitably ask yourselves one day: Is my love strong enough to put up with this?
Is my love big enough to get past this? Out of love, am I capable of forgiving? Am I ready to sacrifice myself?”
“You shouldn’t!” I hiss, turning back around.
“Alma, love makes you do extraordinary things. It sweeps everything away in its path. Reason, principles, pain, promises. It’s so powerful that there’s no way you can comprehend it until you actually feel it.
It’s normal that it seems impossible for you to understand.
But your father and I have loved each other for thirty years. ”
“Well, he sure has a funny way of loving you,” my pouting sister blurts out.
“We don’t always love each other the way we want to,” my mother sighs.
“But, Alma, it’s your turn to ask yourself the question now: Give up or keep loving?
Run away or accept that you’ll suffer? You sacrificed yourself for Vadim; that’s the most beautiful proof of love.
But you can’t spend the next three months moping or resenting him.
If your love for him is strong enough, big enough, then you simply have to wait for him, endure his absence, and love him twice as much when he comes back.
If it’s beyond what you can handle, then that love isn’t worth it. Only you can know.”
My mother stands up, her eyes glistening with tears. She places a kiss on the top of my head and walks out of my bedroom. The room falls silent again—until Lily dashes off, screaming hysterically, “I’m never going to love anyone! No one! Ever!”
My little Lily, if you only knew…
My mother’s words have stunned me. Trying to pull myself together, I sit up in bed, close my eyes, and visualize Vadim’s handsome face.
Above all, I try not to forget a single detail.
His wild hair, his piercing eyes, his smirk, and the small scar that crosses his lip.
I could tell you exactly where it is, down to the tiniest fraction of an inch.
Fresh tears gather on my lashes. Will they ever stop?
“Alma?”
There is a soft knock at my door. Georgia pokes her head in, as she often does, but this time she has an odd expression on her face. It lacks the usual compassion I know her for, that almost maternal tenderness she shows whenever something happens to me or one of my siblings.
“Alma, there’s someone here for you. I sent them up.”
Probably Clémentine. Maybe she’s finally remembered she has a best friend.
“I dare you to stop crying.”
My heart pounds. I know that voice.
My heart races. I know it so well.
My heart bursts. I know that face; I was picturing it in my head just a minute ago.
“Vadim!” Screaming out of both joy and relief, I jump into his arms.
“Were you crying for me, Princess Lancaster of England?”
I sniffle and I give his broad back a little pat.
“You’re right, it was going to be way too cold in Russia,” he murmurs, holding me tight.
“And I can’t begin to learn Russian when I’ve only just started getting to grips with French.
That wouldn’t make any sense. Besides, I’ve got a short film to finish here.
Abrams would have missed me too much. Who would he pick on if I wasn’t here, huh?
And let’s not forget my brother—it would be a shame to lose the incredible bond we’re already forming!
Those are more than enough reasons not to freeze my ass off. ”
“So, you’re really staying?” I study him, incredulous.
“Yes. Michelle Kerry is going to find me other commercials. Who needs a movie when I’ve got such a bright, shiny future in shampoo?”
“Cut out the sarcasm already, Arcadi! Why are you here? Promise me you’re not going to regret this.”
“You + Me…” He whispers the magic formula in my ear, and I melt. “This time, I didn’t dare to follow my dream. Not without you, Alma.”
We hold each other tight for what feels like an eternity, wrapped up together, intertwined, sharing kisses. We breathe each other in, say that we love each other and that we can never be apart again.
Between declarations of love, Vadim continues his tongue-in-cheek list of all the things he wasn’t able to leave behind. I fail to make an appearance on the list, and it makes me laugh out loud.
I swear never to tell Felix, Keith, or anyone else why he came back. Why he never actually left.
For me.
After the euphoria of being reunited, a certain uneasiness takes hold of me. Of course, I’m thrilled to have the man of my dreams close to me, but I feel guilty. Guilty of getting in the way of his dream. A dream which, because of me, might never come true.
When you sacrifice yourself for someone you love, it’s hard—incredibly hard—but it’s something to be proud of.
When it’s the other person who sacrifices themselves for you, you no longer get to be the noble one.
All you can do is thank them, with a tear or a smile, and try to give something back—even if it isn’t much.
***
In the days that follow, I try to be the best girlfriend in the world, hoping to make Vadim happy every minute and every second of every day.
But I think it just ends up annoying him, stifling and smothering him.
He keeps telling me that he regrets nothing, that he belongs here, and that I don’t need to do all this.
I try to believe him, and I take a step back.
I let him live his life without interfering too much.
He sees Felix more and more often, but I don’t remind him of his commitments to Keith.
I don’t even complain when he spends time with Cheyenne after his community service hours.
He cancels a second meeting with Roman at the last minute, and I don’t try to talk him out of it.
He isn’t making much progress on his film, too busy with castings and photo shoots, but I never question his priorities.
Every day, I understand a little more what my mother meant. To love is also to sacrifice. It’s letting the other person live, move in another direction, and make mistakes sometimes, even if it costs us.
It’s the price I pay to have Vadim by my side.
***
“Hi, Alma.”
Classes are finished for the day, and I’m about to head home, when Timothy catches up to me and taps my arm. We haven’t really spoken for months; I’d almost forgotten all about him. Yet he hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still just as tall, muscular, blond, and well-groomed as ever.
“How are you doing?”
“Hi, Tim. Good, and you?”
The usual polite exchange.
“I’m all good. What’s new?”
“Not much. You?”
The conversation has barely started, and it’s already running out of steam.
“I heard things weren’t going so well. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Ah. You heard wrong then; everything’s fine.” I shrug with a smile.
“I know we didn’t end things on very good terms, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“That’s nice, but you don’t need to worry. I’m fine.”
He shifts a little, uncomfortable. “Actually, there’s a rumor going around campus. About Arcadi and you. Apparently, he wanted to leave you and go back to Russia…”
“Well, you can tell everyone on campus that Vadim was supposed to go there for a shoot. He landed a role in a Yuri Kara?ev film. You probably don’t know who that is, but feel free to google him. Anyway, in the end, he decided not to take it. For a lot of reasons.”
“Exactly. It seems he stayed here for a girl.”
“A girl?”
“A brunette. Not exactly someone you’d want to associate with.”
His smug little expression makes me want to shove his basketball down his throat.
“Cheyenne?” Tim continues.
I take a step back, irritated by his insinuations.
“Wrong,” I retort. “Completely wrong. Why are you suddenly so interested in what Vadim’s up to, anyway?”
“I’m not interested in what he’s doing; I’m interested in what he’s doing to you, Alma. I just don’t want him to disrespect you, that’s all.”