She needs someone to notice her.
And I've been noticing her for a while now.
I have photos saved on my phone. Not inappropriate ones—just her smile, her laugh, the way she moves through space like she's dancing to music no one else can hear. Screenshots from the coffee shop security cameras I may have accessed. For safety purposes.
There's one from last week where she's reading during her break, completely absorbed, bottom lip caught between her teeth in concentration. I know what page she was on. Chaptersixteen. The hero just realized he can't stay away anymore, that restraint is its own kind of violence.
I found that oddly relatable.
Eleven months of leaving tips that started at twenty dollars and gradually increased because the pleased surprise on her face is worth any amount of money. The most recent was a hundred dollars. Andrei thinks I'm losing my mind.
He's wrong. I'm being generous.
And restrained. So fucking restrained.
I go to her coffee shop three times a week instead of every day. I don't follow her home—I simply happen to know her route. I haven't spoken to her beyond placing my order because what would I say? How does a man like me talk to a woman like her?
I've been protecting her. From me. From my world.
"I don't have a girlfriend," I tell my mother.
"But you WANT girlfriend! I see! Mother always knows! You leave house, you come back different. Something makes you happy. Is woman, yes? Must be woman! What else makes man smile like idiot?"
"I don't smile."
"You don't frown as much! Is same thing! So I tell everyone you bring girlfriend! Beautiful Russian girl, perfect for you!"
"She’s not Russian. You don't even know if she exists."
"But she DOES exist! You just say 'she'—not Russian, you say! AH-HA!"
Fuck.
I drain the rest of my vodka. It doesn't help. "There's no girl."
"Liar! You know her nationality! What else you know? You think about her, yes? This is good! This is what I want for you!"
I say nothing. This is my best defense. My only defense.
It doesn't work.
"Fine! Don't tell me! But I already tell everyone you are bringing girlfriend, so now you MUST bring girlfriend! You fix this!"
"You fix this. You're the one who lied."
"I don't lie! I predict future! Mother's intuition!"
"Kostenka." Her voice shifts, going soft and wounded. This is more dangerous than the yelling. "Please. Please, synok. I tell everyone you are coming with girlfriend. I tell Dimitri! I tell his mama! They all so happy for you, finally my Kostya finds someone, finally he stops being alone—"
"I'm not alone. You live with me."
"Is not same! I am old woman! I die soon—"
"You're sixty-eight and healthy."
"—and then what? You be all alone in big penthouse! No wife! No children! No one to take care of! You work and work until one day—poof!—you are dead, and who will cry for you? Who will—"
"Mama—"
