Maria
Dominika appears with my food. The silver tray is loaded with food-a bowl of vegetable soup, a toasted artisan roll, and a generous portion of roasted chicken on a plate surrounded by grilled vegetables.
The smell of hot soup fills the room, followed by the aroma of garlic and rosemary from the chicken. My stomach gurgles as the delicious aroma invades my nose. I’m so hungry, and even if I wasn’t, the baby needs something. I stare at the tempting tray, and my stomach gurgles loudly as I stand up.
A glass of chilled white wine accompanies the meal.
I stare at Dominika. She knows my secret, so why did she make that mistake?
“Can I have tea?” I ask her. “And I would prefer to eat in my room.”
“No,” Mikhail tells Dominika as she reaches for the tray. “I want to make sure she eats it.”
Dominika picks up the tray. “I will sit with her.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t tell Mikhail that I don’t think I can stomach a whole meal with him in the room.
“Fine.” Mikhail scowls at me as if I’m being a rebellious and ungrateful child. He grabs the wine off the tray and takes a sip before leaving the room.
I stare at the door, making sure that he’s gone. “I didn’t tell him,” I whisper.
“You should,” whispers Dominika.
“Why? He hates me.”
“He doesn’t, and he definitely wouldn’t if he knew about the child.” Dominika sighs and places her hand on mine to stop it from trembling. “You cannot hide it forever.”
“I won’t be turned into one of you.” My lip quivers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Not to you.”
“Come, little koshka.” Dominika picks up the tray. “Let’s go before he changes his mind.”
“Will he say anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head and steps toward the door.
Suddenly, Mikhail comes back into the room with a cup of tea, and I try not to gawk as he carefully places it on the tray. He takes the tray out of Dominika’s grip, and I almost expect him to slam it back down on the coffee table, but he doesn’t. He heads toward the spiral staircase, carrying the tray.
“Help her upstairs,” he tells Dominika.
Solemnly, we walk behind him as he carries the tray to my room. Dominka helps me into bed but leaves when I am settled with my tray. Mikhail sits across the room while I eat, and I watch him from the corner of my eye. He sits in the same chair Dominika likes to sit in whenever she’s here, but he fits it awkwardly. His shoulders seem to sag as he leans back, and his eyelids weigh down as his breathing becomes regular.
I greedily finish off my soup before I dare to look over at Mikhail, his head leaning to one side and his eyes shut as he sleeps.
I hate him, but something tugs at me as I climb out of bed quietly. I take a throw off the foot of my bed and drape it over him. He barely stirs. Mikhail looks so different when he sleeps. I made a vow to protect my family, and like it or not, Mikhail will be a part of my family.
The father of my baby …
What will I say to my child when they ask about their father? Can I tell them the truth? How much I hated their father and how he tried to hurt us?
My baby will have to stay hidden. I take in a deep breath as the feelings my dad must have felt overtake me. I slip back into bed, but this time, I don’t avoid looking at Mikhail.
The excuses start in my mind, trying to make Mikhail seem not so evil. I place my hands on my belly and remind myself it’s not about my feelings or his.
I have to keep my baby safe, which means keeping my mouth shut.
Keeping it shut, finding a way out of here, and returning home.
That’s all I have to do.
That’s the only thing I can do.