Veronica
A Few Days Before the Abduction
“Nico,” he breathes into my neck, squeezing me in a hug so tight it hurts, “you’ve got me all messed up in the head.”
“You’re crushing me,” I try to wriggle free, pressing my palms against his shoulders.
“These stupid rules,” he grumbles, irritated. “I’m losing it, I want you so bad.” He leaves a sticky kiss on my skin. It’s unpleasant. I used to put up with his rough embraces, but now all I feel is disgust.
“Gleb,” I pull back, “you won’t have to wait much longer.”
“Wanna go grab dinner somewhere?” He finally steps away, bracing his hands against the wall.
“I just want some time to myself. You get it…” I look away, because the truth is, I’m nervous. Tonight’s going to be tough. The boldest thing I’ve ever done in my nineteen years of life.
“You’re nervous? Really?” He grins wide, his light brown eyes searching mine for something. “I can’t wait for you to be mine,” he says, waiting for a reaction, but all I can do is shrug. “I’m heading out,” he turns to the mirrored closet doors, adjusting his tie. He smooths his blond hair with his fingers.
Narcissist. I barely hold back from telling him exactly what I think, but I can’t. Not yet.
“See ya,” I even open the door for him, just to get him out faster.
“Until Saturday,” he pulls me into a hug like I’m some kind of doll. He smacks a kiss on my lips. “I’ll be in a groom’s suit.”
“You won’t miss me,” I force a smile.
After shutting the door behind him, I lean against it with my back. I close my eyes, trying to find some inner calm. I’m on edge. It’s not the challenges ahead that scare me—I’m terrified my plan will fall apart, and then things will be even worse than they are now. I don’t have the strength to fight them. They’re stronger than me, and they’ll dig up plenty of reasons to convince me how important this marriage is.
I let out a heavy sigh…
I don’t even doubt that the footsteps on the stairs belong to my mom. Is she checking to see how I behaved with my fiancé?
“You in here?” She peeks in, catching me on the bed. “Why’d you turn down dinner with Gleb?”
“I just want to rest. My head’s killing me,” I pretend I’m actually getting ready to sleep. I even take off my robe, leaving me in just a nightgown. I feel the urge to hug her, but I can’t risk raising any suspicions.
“Getting out wouldn’t hurt either,” she says, walking over to the window and drawing the curtains. “So your mind doesn’t wander to unnecessary thoughts,” she adds, glancing at me.
“Like what, exactly?” Irritation flares up instantly.
“You’re having doubts. Forget them,” she says sternly. “You’re not even married yet. Get rid of those silly ideas and enjoy life. With him, you’ll have everything. Your father will make sure of it. Youth and recklessness fade, and then all a person wants is stability. Especially a woman.”
“And I want loyalty too,” I snap, hurt. It burns in my chest that these words are coming from my mom. A woman who should understand my doubts.
“You’ll tell him that once you’re officially his wife. Find the right words and add a little feminine charm. There was something between you two once. Honey, we’re just trying to set you up for the best life possible.”
“I know, Mom,” I say, wanting to end this conversation. I’m tired of hearing the same thing over and over.
“Want me to bring you some tea?”
“No, thanks.”
“I’m heading to your father. I’ll drag him out of his office. Tomorrow morning, we’re going to order the flowers, and you’ve got a hair trial at three.”
“I remember.”
Once she leaves, I lie down and pull a thin blanket over me. Within an hour, the house settles into a drowsy quiet. My parents always go to bed early. I wait another hour. The heavy silence is broken only by the loud thumping of my heart. With every second, its rhythm picks up. My nerves are stretched to the breaking point. I wish things could be different, but luck’s never been on my side.
At eleven, I get up. On tiptoes, I head to the closet and quickly change into jeans, a T-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie. I twist my long dark hair into a bun. Glancing at the wedding dress hanging in its clear garment bag, I grab the hidden gym bag packed with my stuff. I slip on my sneakers. I double-check the cash. On the nightstand, I leave my phone, a note, and a photo for my fiancé. Then, very quietly, I open the window.
Fresh May air rushes into the room. The scent of freedom. Sweet and so desperately desired. It’s been calling to me for so long that I’m not even afraid of losing my parents’ support.
“Vasya,” I whisper nervously. “Vasya-a-a,” I hiss, feeling like even the neighbors can hear me. When there’s no response, I swallow hard, my nerves getting the better of me. My imagination cruelly paints pictures of me marrying Gleb, slowly becoming a shadow by his side. The thought sends a chill through my heart. “Vasya, Vasya!” I call out louder. A dog starts barking, and panic sets in. I hold my breath, counting the seconds until I’m caught. The barking stops, and then something crunches below the window, making my heart drop. “A guard?”
“Why are you yelling?” an angry, familiar hiss cuts through the dark.
“You’re here,” I exhale with relief.
“Hurry up and get down,” she orders, all business. I obey. I toss my bag down first, then sit on the windowsill, swing my legs over, and carefully start climbing down. Hands grip my hips, helping me keep my balance and not fall. “Did you want to sic the dog on me? You’re shouting like there’s a fire.”
“I locked it up, don’t worry. I thought you weren’t here, so I started freaking out.”
“Don’t scream. I had to hide out until a car passed by. You sure there’s no camera here?”
“It’s broken,” I say, following her to the gate.
Once we’re outside the fence, I feel a tiny bit of relief. The car—or more like an old junker—is parked around the corner on another street. We hop in right away, Vasya starts the engine, and we take off. For a while, I’m convinced someone’s following us, that this attempt to change two lives is about to be brutally cut short. But when we hit the highway, my nerves slowly start to settle. It’s scary, but I’ve thought this through carefully.
“Well!” She pulls the car over to the shoulder and turns on the interior light.
“Just keep driving,” I say, nervously glancing around. There aren’t even any other cars, but I’m still stressed.
“I want to ask one more time—are you ready for a new life? You won’t get scared of the challenges that are definitely coming?”
“I’m ready. I told you.”
“I know you don’t have another choice, and a traitor isn’t the hero of your sad love story. Here, take this,” she pulls a passport from the glove compartment and hands it to me. Opening it, I freeze on the small photo of a dark-haired girl. She looks a lot like me.
“Eva Chuprun,” I read quietly. Now I have to get used to this name and make it my own.
“Everything okay?” she asks seriously. “If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll drive you back. You can say you just went for a walk.”
“Everything’s fine. I’m ready to be Eva.”
“Can you say it with a little more confidence? Hey, new life!” she says loudly, pulling back onto the road.
“Yeah, hey,” I murmur quietly, moving toward my dream—freedom—with a mix of fear and determination.