Gio doesn’t reply, and the first hint of suspicion crawls into my heart. But maybe he’s just busy. He must have other things to deal with, right? It’s not like everything revolves around me.
So I give him another day before dialing his number with my heart pounding and my palms sweaty from excitement. It’s the first time I’m
calling him, and god, it’s almost embarrassing how much I miss his voice!
But Gio doesn’t pick up, and as I stare at my phone, I can feel my heart shrink like a popped balloon.
Of course, I keep coming up with excuses for him. Maybe he’s out of town. Maybe he’s busy fighting thugs and criminals. Maybe he’s kidnapped! God, what if he got shot? What if he got killed? I work myself up, pacing around the house with my phone clutched in my hand, imagining new scenarios, each worse than the others.
I go over all kinds of possibilities-except for one. That Gio just used me for sex and discarded me as soon as he was done.
The first time I think about it, it makes me so sick I have to get up and run to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Goddamnit. I wipe my lips and straighten up to look at myself in the mirror. I’ve never had such a strong reaction to heartbreak-but I’ve never been so attached to anyone else in my life.
Yeah, Gio promised to share new experiences with me, but this is not what I expected.
For a long time, I refuse to believe that this is it, everything’s over between us. Thankfully, Mom doesn’t ask questions, but I can see her gaze go from curious to sympathetic, and that makes me sick too. It feels as if someone’s scrubbing my heart out of my chest, bit by bit, and I don’t know how to stop it. I feel weak and nauseous most of the time, and I can’t help but cry every other night, cursing myself for my stupidity.
How could I believe him? How could I think a guy like him would want forever with me?
I stop trying to reach him, but it doesn’t make me feel better. I feel broken from the inside, and even going out to take some pictures doesn’t help. It only makes me think about Gio even more, and thinking about him makes me…you got it.
God, what’s wrong with me?
“This is our main base-an old bar called the Red Bush. Have you ever been there?” Irina looks at me over her shoulder, and I can see the blue light of her computer flicker on her glasses. It’s already dark in the room, but she doesn’t turn on the light out of habit.
“No.” I shake my head and look at the location she’s pointing at, narrowing my eyes to see it better. “Wait. It’s not far from here, right?”
“Yeah.” Irina chuckles and leans back in her seat, studying the screen with a distant look. “I keep an eye on it during the day. Many important deals get signed there, you know? It’s a busy place.”
I hum, shifting in my seat to move closer, when I hear the buzz of Irina’s phone. The name Georgiy shows up on the screen, and Irina picks it up, switching her attention from me back to work.
I don’t know if Mom had told her about my state or if Irina just decided to reach out all of a sudden, but she called me this morning to offer me the chance to spend time with her and learn something about the Bratva.
It was a better alternative than spending another day in my room and wallowing in my misery, so I forced myself to be excited about it and accepted her invitation.
At the time, I didn’t realize that when she talked about learning something new, Irina meant sitting with her while she worked from home. Not the most exciting thing to do, huh?
But in reality, it turned out to be quite interesting. I got to visit Irina’s apartment for the first time and see her impressive collection of plants. She introduced me to her cat and the number of computer screens on her desk, each of them showing something else. As Irina explained to me, she has a day off from her usual duties to stay at home and reorganize things for Olga.
In her free time, she also keeps an eye on the open map of our territories-and that pulled my attention more than the list of deals or illegal tax forms. Apparently, the map shows each member of the Bratva, every location of ours, and every border of our territories. Even as she talks to Georgiy, I keep studying the map and following the movement of a dot that catches my attention when, all of a sudden, my throat tightens.
Oh, damn it. Not again.
I close my eyes and lower my head, focusing on taking deep and steady breaths. Nausea grips me without warning, and I have to clutch the edge of my seat. It’s gonna go away, it’s gonna-
But before I can think about it, the urge to throw up overwhelms me, and I have to run to the bathroom only to dry-heave for a minute before the sensation lets go of me. Well, thanks.
I wash my face and go back to Irina’s office where…ah, of course. She turns to me as soon as I enter, and I see a frown of worry on her face. Oh, come on. I saw the same one on Mom’s face the other day, and it doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me feel like shit.
“I’m fine.” I raise my hand even before Irina says anything and take my seat next to her.
“It sure looks like it,” she says, clear sarcasm in her voice. When I turn to her with pursed lips, I see her gaze dart over my pale face and dark eyes. “Does it happen often?”
I shrug, looking away. “Sometimes.” “And that’s all?”
“Kinda.” Ah, what’s there to lose? It’s not like I’m willing to share it with Mom. “I just-I don’t know, I feel sick. It’s like I’m tired all the time, you know?”
I glance at Irina and see her thoughtful gaze on me. What, do I sound weird? God, whatever Gio did with me, it’s not-
“When was the last time you had your period?”
“Ew.” I immediately sit up straight and look at Irina with a grimace of distaste. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She shrugs and rolls in her chair, turning back to the computers.
“Nothing. It just looks like you could be pregnant, my dear, and I wouldn’t want it to catch you off guard.”
“What?” I stare at her while my mind takes off into a spin. “That’s impossible, I-”
Well, I’m not a virgin anymore. But I can’t be so damn unlucky! “Whenever I have doubts, I buy a test. I can give you one if you want.” She gives me a quick look over her shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?”
With that, Irina goes back to her work, and I’m kinda glad she doesn’t push it and gives me a chance to deal with the storm she has set off in my mind. I mean, it’s impossible. Of course, it’s impossible! It wasn’t that time of my cycle, and-god, what day was it? I cover my eyes with a hand, frantically counting. Shit. Shit.
“They’re in the drawer in the bedside table,” Irina says all of a sudden, and I take off in an instant. No, no, come on, it can’t be.
My fingers are shaking as I open the drawers of her bedside table, ignoring anything I’m not supposed to see, until I see a ten-pack of pregnancy tests. Oh god. This is happening-and as if on cue, I feel sick again, although this time I can’t tell the reason behind it. The only way to find out is in my hands, and I freeze for a moment, feeling breathless, before running to the bathroom.
It won’t be positive, it won’t be. I just got a little sick, that’s all. It happens, right? It’s nothing serious. It’s nothing that will change my life forever.
I keep repeating it to myself for the next few minutes, talking to myself or to the test innocently lying on the counter. God, how can such a small thing carry so much meaning? I stare at it, counting seconds in my head and hoping that, once the timer goes off, the test will disappear.
It doesn’t. It’s still there when the time comes for me to check it, and I can barely force my whole body to move. Just one, just one, please, just one line, that’s all I’m asking for-but nobody listens to me.
And when I finally look at the test, the bathroom tile slides from under my feet and I slump on the floor. The two lines are burned in my mind, and I still see them even as I stare at the wall in front of me until my vision gets blurry and my lungs stop working properly.
God. I gasp for breath and cover my face with my hands. What am I supposed to do now?