Natasha
My mother is home, which means I’m in my bedroom pretending to read a book. I just want to be alone while I lick my wounds.
I didn’t want to tell her about what happened last week. If I had, she would want to move us out of this building by the end of the day. Me getting mixed up in bratva business is her worst nightmare.
But not telling her makes it impossible to function around her. I’m still grieving. It may have only been a week, but the intensity was unmatched. I fell in love and had my heart broken all at once, and it’s not easy to bounce back from that.
An unknown number comes through my phone, and I pick it up. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, but it could be a new client.
“This is Natasha.”
“Hi Natasha, this is George Engels, head of admissions at the Illinois School for Naturopathy.”
I know the school-it was my top pick when I’d been applying last year, but I have no idea why they’d be calling now. “Oh? Um, hi.”
“We understand there was some miscommunication with you about your scholarship offer-that it never came through?”
“Scholarship offer?” I echo blankly.
“Sounds like you didn’t receive it, which would explain why we haven’t received your acceptance yet. Listen, most of that money has already been claimed, but I just had a student back out, and we’d like to give you the chance again, if you’re still interested in attending.”
“Well, I am interested-um-but I’m confused. You say you sent me a scholarship offer?”
“We’re confused too, to be honest. I just got an email from the Dean asking me to look into your case personally, and it looks like someone in our office dropped the ball somewhere. But there is money available, and I’d like to make the offer. Have you already accepted another offer?”
My heart starts pounding. Even though I have a strong suspicion about how this happened, I can’t hold back my excitement. “Um, no, I haven’t.”
“Then we’d like to offer you a full ride. But I’d need to know by the end of the week. I will email you the paperwork right now, so you can look it over.”
“Wow. Thank you so much. Really. This is very exciting.”
“It is, yes. We were so impressed with your entrance essay. It was really moving.”
My entrance essay? Huh. Interesting.
“Um, thank you. I look forward to your email.”
“Great. I’m sending it now. You have a great day, Natasha.”
I end the call and stare at the phone. Then I open my computer, which I haven’t done since I got back. My email box is full, and there are messages not just from the Illinois School of Naturopathy, but from seven others, all with similar stories. My application had been misplaced, but there’s still a place for me. Some offer money, some don’t.
I give a sob of joy. It feels like I just won the lottery. The thing I wanted that I never believed would happen just got handed to me on a platter.
And I know who made this happen.
Part of me wants to reject this gift Dima has given me, but how can I?
This is a dream come true!
I don’t know how he did it, but he is truly amazing.
I hold both my hands over my heart, which is contorting inside my chest. Why does knowing Dima cares feel so damn painful? Because I still can’t have him?
Yes. Exactly. I don’t want to open the door to this pain again.
I know I should go up to the penthouse to thank him personally. But I’m not ready to see him. Not without it tearing my heart out. I still love him too much. So much it burns to be near him. To relive his denial of me.
Of us.
I’ll give it some time. Get myself together.
Maybe I’ll write an old-fashioned thank you note and mail it to him.
I open the blinds in my bedroom and something different about the view makes me pause.
I gasp. A giant banner is hanging on the building across the way at exactly the same level as my window.
In huge, red capital letters, it reads, I LOVE YOU, NATASHA. My stomach surges up to my throat. What? Below it, in a script, it says, You are my everything.
I cover my mouth with my hand as a flood of emotion threatens to knock me over. Love, grief, laughter, tears-it all rushes out at once.
“Dima!” I gasp.
What is this? Is he saying he does want me? A lump grows in my throat.
“Natasha!” my mother calls from the living room.
My tummy flutters. I guess there’s no keeping this from her now. I steel myself. But when I come out, she’s looking out a different window-one that faces the lake.
“What is it?” I ask.
“What does that sign say?” she demands, pointing.
“What sign?”
“There’s a plane with a sign. What does it say?”
I stand beside my tiny but fierce mother. Sure enough, a tiny plane loops around near the shoreline, carrying a banner behind it that reads, I love you, Natasha.
“Mama,” I murmur, unable to stop the tears.
“Who did this?” My mother turns, looking elated. “Alex?”
“Not Alex. Dima.”
“Dima?” Her smile fades. “From upstairs?”
My spine straightens, and I lift my chin. “Yes. He’s a good person,” I say defensively. “He’s fiercely loyal, and he loves deeply. He would do anything for the people he loves.”
My mother stares at me, eyes wide. “You’re… seeing this man? He is bratva.”
“I know.” I draw a breath. Until this moment, I was still holding back. Still protecting my heart from getting torn to shreds again. But the act of convincing my mom makes me realize that Dima is worth risking everything for.
Worth trying again.
Without any more explanation, I grab the keycard to get to the penthouse and walk out to the elevator.
As it surges upward, my heart pounds in my temples, my wrists, my throat.