Anna
Knowing that I’ll have to lie to the cops makes me sick to my stomach. Even though I’ve seen how corrupt they can be firsthand, I’ve never liked the idea of lying to them. I’ve always feared that they have this sense of all- knowing, like they’re only asking questions to see if I will lie to them.
I run over to a nearby trash can and vomit violently, startling a small family nearby. I’m too embarrassed and overwhelmed to apologize, so I simply glance at them guiltily and retreat back to my place with Luka.
When my name is finally called, I can feel my guts churning with anxiety. Now that I might have to face the possibility of the baby being injured or even killed by the stress of my ordeal, I fear I might not be able to face it with the strength that Luka requires.
I just want to fall apart and be held by someone.
Knowing that Luka depends on me to not fuck up this lie is eating away at me inside. I’ve never been a good liar. As often as I’ve had to exaggerate something to get what I needed for Rachel and me, I’ve never been able to convince somebody of a completely fabricated story, start to finish. I’ve always believed that part of the art of lying was believing the lie to some degree on your own, and having known what I know about what truly happened, I doubt that my face wouldn’t betray me.
Luka takes both my hands, which shake uncontrollably as my body regains its composure from vomiting. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I just need you to believe that. Let’s try to get through the next hour, and then the hours after that. You’re going to do great,” he reassures me.
The nurse calls my name again, and Luka helps me out of my seat as we’re guided back to the treatment area.
The Emergency Department of a large city is exactly what I’d expect it to be, packed to the brim with everything from gunshots to overdoses to mothers who hold their restless children as they demand a doctor’s attention for their child’s cough.
The nurse brings us into a private room with a sliding glass door and a curtain concealing me from the rest of the department, which gives me the mental space that I need to breathe and prepare for my unwitting performance when the cops show up.
She instructs me to lie down on the bed and change into a hospital gown, setting down the supplies she needs to give me an IV when I’m done changing.
The sight of the needle and bandages makes my heart skip a beat. Even such a stupid, small inconvenience as a blood draw or an IV has the potential to break me right now. I’d give absolutely anything to just be back at Luka’s house, lying in bed and scrolling through my phone with the weight of my existential boredom crushing my chest.
Anything would be better than what I have to go through now. This is a nightmare.
Luka helps me tie the back of the gown as I finish changing, and I’ve never felt less sexy while being so exposed in my life.
I just feel vulnerable.
Luka holds me close to him for a moment, rubbing my back and whispering that I’m fine, we’re fine, everything is going to be fine.
When I was a kid, hearing that everything was going to be fine meant that the person saying so, typically one of my guardians, was scared out of their mind and was projecting their need for reassurance onto a child who had no idea what the fuck was going on. Even though I know that Luka would never intentionally let anything bad happen to me, the vestigial terror from my childhood leaps up into my throat, and I begin to breathe heavily as my anxiety takes over.
“No, come on, you’re alright. Please breathe for me, okay? I know you can do that. You’re strong,” he soothes.
I dig the tips of my fingers into his back as I force control over my breathing. Despite my best efforts, I feel tears form in the inner corner of my eyes, and I bury my face in his shirt to keep them from falling.
The nurse returns to the room and begins her preparations for the IV, wrapping my arm with a tourniquet and instructing me to squeeze my fist until she can find a vein. I could never let Luka see me terrified of needles. I’d always thought that being afraid of simple medical procedures like a needle stick was childish and immature.
I stare straight at him as she punctures my vein, refusing to flinch at all. She pushes a syringe of saline solution into my IV to prime it, and the metallic taste that overcomes my senses takes away any possibility that I could be dreaming.
This is absolutely real, and I need to weather the situation accordingly.
“So, you informed us that you were in a situation where you feared for your life as well as that of your unborn child’s,” the nurse begins, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. “Do you know how far along you are?”
I think to myself for a moment. I’d never actually done the math to determine when I had gotten pregnant. Luka and I had so much sex once I moved in that it could have been a number of times. I could never give an exact day or even week.
“Um, I took a positive test about two weeks ago,” I reply.
Luka glances at me questioningly, thinking back to that point in time and drawing his own conclusions: we were in Brazil when I took that test. I’ve been caught.
“Okay, well, regardless, I’ll try to send you home with some information about what to expect since it’s your first pregnancy,” the nurse replies, noting the unmistakable tension between Luka and me.
She types away on her computer for a moment, then turns to me. “Okay, I’ll have someone in here to check on you as soon as possible. I understand that the police are on their way, so we’ll make sure to have someone escort them here once they arrive. Just press the call button if you need anything in the meantime, okay?” she says, and I nod.
The nurse leaves, and Luka looks at me with hurt and betrayal in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby? Why were you trying to run away with it?” he asks.
I feel a flash of guilt dissipate in my stomach as I come up with the proper articulation of my reasoning. “Luka, you’re dangerous. The entire reason we ever met is that your men were going to hurt or kill my sister over drugs,” I begin, feeling unnaturally emboldened, potentially by the adrenaline that I’ve now been able to channel. If I can use it to stand up for myself instead of just shaking and crying, I’ll take it.
“Your sister did get herself involved with us on her own,” he begins slowly.
My eyes flash with anger at the suggestion that my teenage sister could have possibly caused all of this. “No, Luka. She’s only eighteen. She doesn’t get to carry any blame here. Your men took advantage of her while fully knowing the risks. How was I supposed to raise a baby around people like that?” I ask him.
“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to that baby,” he replies, crossing his arms and assuming his stoic, stone-cold persona.
“Look where we are, Luka! We’re here ultimately because of Alexei, who was one of your most trusted men,” I say angrily. “Your brother is fighting for his life because of Alexei!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I know sorry isn’t going to get me very far but-”
“You’re right. It won’t. I understand that seeing me try to run away is hard for you, but you need to understand that I’ve already seen what happens when you put a child into a bad situation, and I wouldn’t allow that for our baby regardless of how I feel about you,” I say, cutting him off.
“How do you actually feel about me, Anna?” he asks, and it’s the question I didn’t know I would be so hesitant to answer when the time came.
I take a deep breath. “Feelings are complicated, Luka. I love you. I know that for sure. But I’ve always been a caregiver first, I’ve always had to be a guardian to my sister. I’ve never been allowed to let my feelings for any guy dictate my decision making. It doesn’t matter how strongly I feel,” I respond, adjusting my arm to keep it from pulling at the IV.
For some reason, the pain of this stupid IV is bothering me so much that I can’t focus on the gravity of the situation. Maybe that’s a good thing.
“You love me?” he asks, his eyes lighting up slightly. Of course, he could never outwardly express any true joy at such a confession, but having learned his subtle expressions, I can tell that he’s ecstatic.
“Well, yes, but didn’t you hear anything else that I said? It doesn’t matter if I love you if it’s going to put my sister or this baby at risk. How are you supposed to be a father to a newborn when you’re crawling the streets killing people?” I ask him.
He sighs deeply with nothing to say.
“What am I supposed to do if you get killed or thrown into prison? I can’t raise my sister and a child on my own, Luka. And it certainly isn’t Rachel’s responsibility to help me raise it either. I would need full commitment from you, and I just don’t think I’ll be able to get it,” I continue, feeling the emotion beginning to come loose as my eyes fill with tears.
“What if I took us away from here? What if we could move somewhere where neither of us has any ties to anybody? We could start over. We have more than enough money,” he suggests hopefully, sitting up straighter and looking at me with desperate, pleading eyes.
“You’re not the first person to promise me all kinds of big changes, Luka. I know you’ve never dated men before, but that’s a pretty common tactic, and it hurts. I’d need to see real, legitimate changes to your life that I don’t think you’re prepared to face,” I reply, pinching my inner forearm with my fingernails to distract me from crying. It’s a trick I learned from a social worker when I was eleven.
“I don’t want you to blame me for the way other guys have treated you, Anna. I love you too, and I’m not afraid to say it either. That’s my baby too, and I want to give you both the life you deserve,” he says with conviction.
Before I can respond, I hear a knock on the glass sliding door, startling me back into a rigid, upright position as a different nurse escorts two police officers into my room.
“Anna, this is officer Tucker and officer Jameson. They’re going to get a quick statement from you while we wait for ultrasound to open up,” the nurse says as the two officers walk in.
I can see Luka’s body language seize up slightly despite his best efforts to remain calm and collected. He’s so used to not being caught that he still hasn’t mastered the art of interacting with the police. It would almost be funny to see him so out of his element if so much wasn’t hanging in the balance.
“You’re Anna Ward, correct?” officer Tucker asks, putting on his most empathetic expression. I already feel patronized, like he’s going to address me like a child who saw a guy get killed on the subway.
I decide to lean into the assumption of my innocence. “Um, yes, that’s me,” I reply hesitantly, intentionally changing my body language to reflect that of a permanently uncertain, naive little woman. I neurotically brush my hair out of my face, occasionally taking a break to bite at the loose skin on my thumbnail.
“We’re just going to ask you a few questions about what happened, okay? So the first thing we need to know is what time this all happened,” he asks me, preparing to write down my answer.
I glance at Luka, who nods ever so slightly to indicate that I’m fine to tell them what time the actual incident took place. It’s probably smarter to give them that time anyway; I’m not sure how forensics works, but I’m worried they’ll be able to find out how old Leo’s bullet wound is.
“Um, it was about 3:30-ish, sometime around there,” I reply, lightening my voice into a more feminine tone.
“Okay, and what exactly happened?” he asks next, writing down my response as I examine all of the weapons on his belt. There’s something about seeing somebody with so much lethal potential addressing me in such a normal way that sets me on edge. It’s like meeting a friendly chimpanzee who has probably ripped the face off at least one person in the recent past.
“So, I was just walking downtown with my boyfriend’s brother Leo, and we were apprehended by a skinny man with a mask and a gun who told me to give him everything I had on me, like my credit card, cash, whatever. I was about to just give it to him when Leo chose to stand up to him instead, and then he was shot,” I say, beginning to sweat as I watch the officer’s face remain unmoving and neutral.
The officer puts away his notebook and pats me on the knee, making my stomach turn. “Well, we appreciate you giving your statement. Unfortunately, Leo is in critical condition and isn’t able to give his own, but once he’s recovered, we’ll try to get some information from him as well. No idea when that’ll be, so it might take some time before we’re able to track this guy down,” he says.
I put on my most convincing disappointed face, and I even consider pretending to be angry that they’re “refusing to get to the bottom of this”, but I honestly just want them to leave as quickly as possible.
“Were you there at all?” officer Jameson asks Luka.
He shakes his head quickly and grows even more visibly cagey than he was before.
Somehow, his strange behavior doesn’t interest the police, so they leave the room with a completely false story and no way of corroborating it.
When we’re finally alone again, Luka turns to me, waiting for me to re- initiate the conversation we were having before we were interrupted.
“So, what are you suggesting that you would change for me? I’m just curious,” I say, sounding much more defensive than I had intended but choosing to stick with it.
“I mean, do you even want to be with me? Because it seems like you don’t, and you’re just trying to get me to beg you to stick around,” Luka replies.
I sigh. “Maybe I do want you to beg. I don’t know. I just need some kind of indication that you’re serious about having me as your partner in life instead of just being some girl you keep around for fun.”
“You think that’s all you are to me? I’ve never had this kind of connection with anyone ever, Anna. Not ever. I’m not prepared to throw that all away just because you’ve got hang-ups,” he replies somewhat angrily. At least he’s showing some emotion about it. That’s a good place to start.
“I’m not sure Luka. You’re always so closed off. I can’t read you. The first time we ever had sex, you nearly jumped off me as soon as you were done. That doesn’t inspire confidence that you value me as your girlfriend,” I say.
“I’m not used to this, okay? I’m not used to having someone around who gives a fuck about me either, Anna. You’re not the only person who’s been in bad relationships,” he replies as he grows more defensive.
“So explain that to me. I want to understand,” I urge.
Luka opens his mouth to reply, but a nurse knocks on the glass door and opens it, interrupting him before he can explain himself.
“Time for your ultrasound, ma’am.”
“We’ll talk later,” I say as I step away from him.
He nods, and at that moment, I feel confident that we’re going to be alright.