50
My energy and vitality are back. Most importantly, my passion and thirst for knowledge as well as the desire to succeed in my studies have reclaimed their significant place in my life. I spend my mornings studying, and my free time preparing for exams and reading new research studies. My heart and body are living in harmony with my choice to live beside my man, and only my brain forces me to create a separation between our two worlds.
Liam drives me to the university every morning and picks me up at the end of the day. We spend a few hours together and then he goes to the bar. He takes interest in my studies, pampers me with delicious meals before my exams, and listens to my ordeals as a teaching assistant. He’s an amazing partner and between the sheets he challenges my body to discover new blissful adventures. I feel like I’m on the top of the world, but I can’t display the same interest in his world. My brain admonishes me to retain one defensive barrier, and I accept it. After a few evenings I see he looks worried and I overhear some of his phone calls, but I still consciously choose not to ask any questions. I turn my head the other way and create a virtual reality for myself where I can live in peace.
Today, I’m waiting outside campus for the black motorcycle, but instead the silver Hummer stops in front of me.
“Get in,” Ralph says impatiently and I look at him, surprised.
“Where’s Liam?”
“He'll be home in a few hours,” he replies, and hits the driver’s seat angrily. The car starts moving. I look at Ralph, but I don’t say anything. I’ve managed to keep the barrier up and I don’t want to break it down now, but I feel my concern is eating away at it.
“Thank you,” I say when we arrive. I get out of the jeep and go inside, sit down on the sofa and dial Liam.
“Elena, everything’s fine. We’ll talk later.” He says and ends the call. I have no idea where he is or what is happening, and my frustration grows. I can’t go upstairs to the bedroom and I’m not interested in any of the new articles I find online.
Suddenly I realize what I need to do. I peek at the minimized link at the bottom of the screen and enlarge it. I decided not to close it even after I came back here and settled into my new life, and now my curiosity is thanking me for it. The black screen appears with dozens of new videos. Don’t do it! My brain orders but my fingers are listening to my heart and my body as I click on the most recent video. None of the masked man’s information is about my man. I watch some additional videos and suddenly I see a picture of Liam sitting alone on his motorcycle at the entrance to the bar. “The Duchess may have returned to Liam’s life,” the masked man says in his distorted voice, “but she’s nowhere to be seen with him. It looks like the Beauty is ashamed of her Beast.”
I close my computer and turn pale. Is that what everybody thinks now? That I’m ashamed of my perfect man? He didn’t say anything to me. He didn't try to persuade me to join him, to be seen with him. He didn’t even hint at it. Maybe he thinks the same terrible things?
I can’t relax and I pace through the house nervously. When the door opens several hours later, I rush to him and hug him tightly.
“I told you everything was fine,” he laughs and embraces me close. “Why did you wait up for me?”
I try to find the words to express my love for him, but I feel so embarrassed. “Do you want to tell me what happened today?” I ask and caress his scars.
“There’s no need,” he replies calmly, and places his file on the kitchen counter.
“I want to hear,” I grasp his arm.
He turns to me, smiles and holds me close. “You don’t really want to hear.” He kisses me gently. “And that’s fine. I’ve accepted that you need to create a separation between our worlds. I can compromise on that, so I can have you.”
I want to tell him that he’s wrong, that I’m interested in everything about him, but my brain is sending insistent warning signals. I lower my head, pull him upstairs and show my great love for him every way my body knows.
When I wake up in the morning, Liam has already gone downstairs. The last headline from the Dark Net is still echoing inside my head. I realize that I’ve been selfish. After all, in his world, image is everything and I’m hurting him with my behavior. He offers me coffee and I decline, falsely saying that I am late for school. He doesn’t comment and immediately takes me out to the garage. Throughout our drive, I hold on to him tightly and caress him. Every time we stop at a traffic light, I rain moist kisses on his neck, and when the motorcycle stops in the parking lot, I find it hard to say goodbye.
“You’re late,” he smiles as I grip his head and don’t stop kissing him.
“Yes,” I mumble, and force myself to leave him and go inside.
The damn picture stays with me all day, and when I walk out to the parking lot and see his tousled hair, I pounce on him excitedly.
“Studying is good for you,” he laughs and waits for me to sit down behind him. He drops me off at home, and this time he doesn’t come inside with me.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I ask in disappointment.
“I’ve got some urgent business at the bar. Don’t wait up for me.” He winks and drives out of the garage. I go inside and sit down on the edge of the sofa. He has a whole other life that I’m not a part of. I sigh in frustration. My man has worries, doubts, enjoyments and concerns that I’ll never be able to experience with him.
I turn on my computer and click on the new video as it uploads. It opens with a picture of the entrance to the bar. The masked man talks about a police raid at the bar yesterday and I freeze. “Nobody was arrested this time,” he tells the camera in his distorted voice. “And guess who wasn’t there.” The picture of me at the airport flashes on the screen. “Maybe we'll hear about another breakup soon.” I turn the computer off and slam it down on the table. Liam didn’t tell me about the raid. He doesn’t talk to me about his crises, just as I specifically requested. But why the hell does that creature think we’re headed for a breakup? Maybe he knows something I don’t? I start growing fearful. Am I just deluding myself? Maybe my love for him isn’t enough and he can’t resist all the temptations that surround him at work?
My stomach clenches painfully. I take my cellphone out of my bag and dial my mom.
“My darling,” she says happily, “did you forget your mother?”
“No,” I answer awkwardly. “You know I’ve got exams now. I’m just really busy.”
“I know,” she says gently. “How is it going?”
“Fine,” I sigh.
“I thought you would sound happier,” she says in surprise.
“Why did you think that?” I ask cautiously.
“Because you went back to your gangster,” she replies and for a moment it sounds like she’s amused.
“How did you know?” I ask in panic.
“He didn't tell you?”
“Mom, did you really tell him that I came back to Boston? I was sure I was dreaming when he said…” I mutter. “I couldn’t tell you that I went back to him. I was embarrassed.” I rub the back of my neck. “I thought you’d be disappointed with me.”
“Elena, I would never choose that man for you. But it really can't be my choice.” She sighs. “It seems like something bigger than us makes those choices for us, and I couldn't listen to you talking about all the compromises you were going to make anymore.” She sighs again.
“Mom, it really is bigger than me.” I wipe away a tear. “I can’t live without him. I tried, I really did.”
“I know,” she says sadly. “And I trust you to stay out of trouble.”
“I’m trying,” I wipe away another tear. “I made a total separation between our worlds. I don’t go near his bar, I don’t ask any questions about his life and I don’t know anything about what he does when he’s not with me. But now I’m worried that I’ll lose him because of that.”
“You can't do that,” she says firmly. “A woman must be a full partner in her man’s life. I am not talking about a business partnership; I am talking about an emotional partnership.” I sit up on the sofa and take a deep breath. “Elena, if I would have taken my head out for one moment, stopped living in my imaginary world and shown some interest in what your father was doing, everything I am going through now could have been prevented. I didn't ask any questions even when I had suspicions, I did not ask him to tell me anything because I was happy to live in my own shell. And look where I'm today. Even if your man is not perfect,” she softens her voice, “he needs to know that he has an anchor at home. That he can share with you everything he is going through. Home must be his safe and comforting place; his refuge.”
“He isn't trying to share things with me anymore. Maybe I’ve already lost him?”
“Elena, don’t be silly, he is very much in love with you. And if I am not mistaken, you feel the same for him.”
“Even more than you think,” I say in a choked voice.
“Then go, connect your worlds, but carefully. Be smart,” she concludes firmly.
“I'll do it right now,” I answer excitedly. “Thank you, Maman . I love you.”
“And I love you, my darling.”
I end the call and stand up. What can I do now? I pace the living room. Maybe I should wait for him to come home and then talk to him? No… I need to do something extreme. Something that will prove to him and to everyone in his black world that he’s the man in my life, that I'm totally his. I smile to myself as my brain finally starts cooperating and gives me a solution.