I count the beats of the heart between my ribs. One. Two. Three. Four. At five, Vlad answers the call. He speaks calmly and evenly:
— I’m listening.
— H-h… hello, — my breath is uneven.
"Calm down, Yuliana. Calm down. Remember, you're hurt and angry with him. Why this tone? What's with your voice? It trembles like a leaf on a tree in the gusts of a stormy wind."
— Hello, — Vlad's voice does not change. The man masters himself perfectly, or… truly feels nothing but passion for me, ignoring everything else.
The pause stretches on. I want to say so much. I want to throw accusations at him for disappearing, but I have no right to. Still… I do. There are explanations. He shouldn't even have to justify himself. Because he always stops me and my dreams. Always clips my wings. Always takes what he seems to give.
"To freedom, Yuliana. To love, Yuliana. No. Wait. Give love back. A replacement for passion. Oh, what? You fell in love because I started first? Not so, my Timid Doe. I promised you nothing. You said 'And yet.' You went all in, knowing there would be no future." — that's how he behaves. And I follow him, those blue eyes, passionate words, behavior, gifts… everything. It's no wonder they say hope dies last.
I am only surprised that I considered myself strong. I thought I had iron endurance and could survive our ending. After all, I often reminded myself of the purpose of this marriage, about the goals that started our relationship. But lately, I see clearly — I won’t survive, no matter how much I lie to myself. Even so, I dream for everything to be different. Once I heard that life breaks the strong because they have the strength to stand up. It's just a pity that life doesn't say where to find the strength for that…
— Tell me you're at home or at school, — Vlad complains.
I stay silent. Tears roll down my face. I’m tired of my broken heart. I'm tired of everything… I just wish to get to the end. Any end. Just to stop the pain.
— Yuliana… — he repeats. His voice changes. However, I don't want to attribute any new tonalities of emotion or meaning. How many times have I fallen into this trap?
— What about the terms of the agreement, Vlad? — I hope my voice sounds indifferent. He doesn't know that I'm sobbing and squeezing my fingers into a fist, scratching my palms with my nails.
— Timur is with your mom, just in case. They filed to the court. Didn’t she say?
— No.
— She doesn’t want you worrying, — he concludes. His voice is calm and indifferent again. — I sent Timur to her to be sure of his safety. A lawsuit has been filed against Dykov. It states he physically abused. The judge is my acquaintance. Soon everything will end. — he delivers the information in dry facts. But I’m grateful for even that.
— What were you talking about when you went to the shareholders' meeting? — I ask in a whisper.
In my imagination, I see the face of the Saint. In it, his blue eyes darken and look at me with suspicion and satisfaction at the same time. The corners of his lips curve into a barely noticeable smile.
— Hmm, the endurance needed, — he states. Is he hinting at patience? — I made it clear to the shareholders that there would be consequences for helping Dykov.
— And with him? With Dykov?
— I informed him what would happen if he repeats it. I warned him.
— Warned him about what? — I ask, pressing.
— About the consequences if he hurts you or Milana. Is that better?
— Better. — the tears dry up. His danger once again evokes that strange, even phantom trust, the logical explanation for which doesn’t exist. — Tell me, what will the consequences be? — my voice trembles.
— Remember, I talked about the emotions we succumb to and it doesn’t matter whose heads roll in the process?
— Yes, — a hoarse laugh escapes from my throat.
— They are the consequences.
— I don't understand… — I mutter.
— Let's return to my question, — he insists. — Tell me, where are you?
I bite my lower lip.
— I met with your sister…
Vlad makes an odd humming sound into the receiver, I can even imagine the emotions reflected on his face.
— Go on.
— I didn’t go to classes.
— For someone who yearned to learn to draw, you’re skipping too much, — he reproaches.
— Unintentionally. It just happened.
— I’m still waiting for an answer about your whereabouts, Yuliana.
— You hadn’t shown any interest in a month, — I dare to speak quite boldly.
— Are you sure? — he challenges.
— You weren’t here… You’re avoiding me, — I add in a whisper.
— Busy with work and carrying out our agreement, — he states firmly. — So?...
— I won’t say, — I mumble. It doesn’t come across as sharp as I’d like for him to understand and feel the weight of my resentment towards him, but it’s still a victory for me.
— No?
— No.
— Alright, — he unexpectedly concedes. — You’re a grown girl. You bear the responsibility for your own actions.
— Aren’t you angry?
— Should I be? I was headed for your “no.” To see how you learn to resist.
I don't believe his words. I simply can’t.
— Headed? — I ask, surprised.
I hear Vlad smile:
— How many times have I given you a choice? Fulfilled your wishes? Crossed boundaries? What do you think, why? You allow others to dominate, accept their decisions, and go down their path. I wanted you to try to break your own patience. I wanted you to stop enduring.
— Why? — I barely move my lips. — Why did you want me to stop enduring?
— When your father beat you, Yuliana… for the second time, you opposed me, remember? I wanted you to lie in bed and wait for the doctor there. I was happy then. I saw the first steps that led to today’s “no.” But then something stopped you. You returned to the path where you are controlled. Not everyone is meant for submission or domination, but you… You have what it takes to hold on despite everything, yet you don’t use this character trait. You suppress it within yourself. You turn it off. At least when it comes to yourself. I want you to understand this very well and remember it.
— Why? — I repeat the question. — What’s the point for you, if our marriage will soon stop being beneficial?
— I’m not a monster. And before I let you go into free swimming, I want to know that you can protect yourself.
Vlad’s words reverberate in my head. My intoxicated mind repeats them over and over. For some reason, I didn’t see it before… I didn’t notice it. I didn’t understand what he was telling me. I didn’t realize about “I always give you a choice. Choose…”. I simply didn’t see, didn’t hear…. like a little kitten just born into this world. Advice about friendships… fears. Only once did Vlad admit that he dug a pit for his own teachings when he went to see what I was doing in "Paradise." Once he confessed, even showed that my behavior was unacceptable. Was he jealous? No, it can’t be. It can't.
When he took me and my mom from Dykov, when he cared, everything was clear. He promised not to let him hurt me. He promised freedom. He should have cared because, in fact, all this happened because of him... But watching what I did in the club while he let himself have fun and live… means only one thing, doesn’t it?
God. No. I’m lying to myself again. It’s time to stop. To quit. Because understanding Vlad’s actions is impossible. He gives and takes away at the same time, hence there can be no talk of jealousy, of course, there isn’t any. Because if there is jealousy, then there are feelings. Not passion with the boundaries he spoke of, but actual feelings. But where would they come from if he plans to let go and teaches to resist the influence of others?