A few minutes later, Mom arrives. It immediately feels a little easier.
— Should I help you take off the dress?
— Who are they? — I ask her and stand in front of the mirror.
— I don’t know. You know, Dad keeps me as far away from these matters as possible.
I nod, but more to myself. Mom has never interfered in his business, she generally knows everyone Dad interacts with, as well as their wives, because she has to attend joint events, and sometimes, for the sake of maintaining a normal life, she meets with them. And I was forced to go too, but for Dad, education was a priority, so I avoided such meetings.
Mom helps me take off the dress, and together we put it on a mannequin. I return to my room, pondering about marriage, betrayal, Vlad's indifference, and being abandoned. It annoys me because I agreed to this venture for the sake of Mom and my brother, and in the end, here I am again, not knowing what awaits next. Will the Saint fulfill his promise? But despite everything, I believe him, even if a thousand others contradict it. Let them think I'm a fool. But it just doesn't work any other way. I can't fully convince myself that Vlad indeed abandoned me. Eventually, the following days prove otherwise.
A few days go by in preparation for the wedding, which is pleasing. So, they certainly didn’t hand me over to Dad; I didn’t believe and hope for nothing. Perhaps the brothers failed where they should have succeeded. This means there is still hope for Vlad's decency. Dad organizes everything, according to him, together with Timur, so he is practically never at home. Mom helps. Only I am kept at a distance from everything, not even allowed to find out where the celebration will take place. At first, I am upset, but then I realize that Timur is playing along with Dad, as he will never give me the right to choose, so I endure.
Today, however, drags on unbearably long. Volodymyr Dykiy told me in the morning that the wedding is tomorrow, so I am on edge all the time. And it’s not nerves from fear, oh no, on the contrary, I am happy. I am happy because, no matter how it is, it’s better with Timur. Yes, my heart quietly whispers that it would be better if it were Vlad, that Timur is not dear to me, but the main question is freedom. It all started from the desire to obtain just that, to carve out a life for Mom and my brother, so…better this way than an old family friend like Vitaliy, or again facing strong oppression and contempt at home. Timur told me, “Hang in there,” and I completely fell apart and lost hope. I thought — that’s it. I’m not needed. But tomorrow’s wedding proves — I am needed. Vlad, most likely, will not back out of the deal. The only thing that bothers me is, what comes next? Will I live as Dobry’s wife, with him? Probably not with Vlad himself, because that would be strange, wouldn't it? Or…will I be with Vlad again? Will I be able to see him, touch him, feel the dangerously intoxicating scent of his body, which is no less addictive than poisonous smoke?
At night, I can't sleep. My thoughts are too loud, preventing me from falling asleep. I am getting married. I am marrying my fiancé's brother, whom I have fallen in love with. A person who, in principle, does not touch my heart. However, this is better than all the other options that my father could have chosen for me. Better, because this wedding is the beginning of another life. It can't be otherwise. I force myself to believe my own words, because otherwise, I will shatter into pieces of despair. I will fall apart.
I close my eyes. I restore all of Vlad's touches in my memory. Every recollection sends a pang in my heart. I remember how I painted with him. The saint sat behind me, brushing my neck with his breath, caressing me with words. He praised me. No one has ever praised me like that before. But he did...
I smile, recalling the moment when Vlad brought the easel and canvases with paints. He didn't have to do that. He could have ignored my desire. After all, I am nobody to him. Just a girl he uses. But he brought it. He gave me something that brings real pleasure.
I frown, as soon as Milan appears before my eyes. She spoiled everything. The shattered cup remains between me, Vlad, and her. Shattered into pieces, just like my heart broke when Timur left in my father’s office.
How is it possible that I still believe in Vlad and his actions? Why? He didn't promise anything. He directly said that he has a goal and at any moment would stab me in the back... And I... An innocent girl, isn't that right? It's strange that I admit this, but I can't help it. I can't just not trust the saint. Not after our night. Not after the tenderness he showered me with.
The phone ringing makes me flinch. I grab my smartphone and look at the screen in surprise. Timur. I answer, astonished:
— Yes?
— How are you? — the calm male voice echoes.
— How am I? — I whisper back. — You left me for my father.
— It was necessary, I'm sorry, — Good doesn’t seem to regret, judging by his tone. — They want to talk to you.
I don't even have time to agree before I hear another voice on the other end of the line. Familiar, painfully present between my ribs. A feeling of dangerous safety touches my whole body with barely noticeable caresses.
— Hello.
I gasp. My hands tremble. All the strings are taut and ready to snap if he says even one more word.
— Hello.
— Is everything okay?
I smile bitterly. Okay? The saint knows perfectly well that it isn't.
— Strange question, considering that my head is spinning, — I reply hoarsely.
— Was he rude?
A pause hangs in the air. I want to say so much, but do I have the right? No, of course not. That's why I stay silent. Because otherwise, I will talk about blood, about pain, about the terrible days that turned into centuries in my father’s house.
— Was he rude? — he asks more harshly.
— What difference does it make? — I reply weakly. — The knife in the back, I remember, Vlad.
— You are my fiancée, Julianna, a huge difference.
— Yours? — I laugh nervously. — Or your brother's?
Vlad doesn't respond. I conclude it's Timur's. So, he will be the husband. Because they need it. Profitable? Probably so. For me? Yes, as well. After all, freedom for my mom and little brother awaits ahead. I can endure. So what if my heart hurts? As if I fell in love for the first time? Vlad hardly needs someone like me for life.
— Good night, my Timid Doe.
He hangs up, and everything within me breaks down. Why? Why call me that, as if I really belong to him? For what?
I bury myself under the blanket and whimper pitifully. It feels as if someone is breaking my bones. I didn't know a soul could hurt. I didn't know there could be something worse than not being loved by your father...