“Call me that again.”
“What?” I snap, walking over just so I can inspect the doctor’s work again. He had to get stitches in over ten places throughout his face and scalp, and each time they pierced his skin with the needle, I flinched like I was the one receiving the treatment.
“I like it when you call me baby,” he says, snaking his palm to my cheek with a boyish smirk.
“Better get used to it, ‘cause I’m growing attached to you,” I say playfully, delivering a quick peck to the tip of his nose before continuing my assessment.
“I’m so damn in love with you,” he suddenly says, catching me off guard. Every muscle in my body freezes, replaying the words in my head.
“You…love me?” I ask in a small voice. His head immediately nods in confirmation.
“I love you, too!” I suddenly burst out, snaking my arms around his neck. My explosive declaration sends him into a sweet fit of laughter as he squeezes my sternum tightly against his.
Abruptly, the monitor above his head begins to beep faster and faster, turning into a manic, piercing pulse thundering through the room. I steal a peek at the heart rate monitor still attached to my man, the rising number causing me to break down in a fit of giggles.
We’re both still laughing deep in our ribs when the medical staff rushes in at the sound of the escalating alert.
Cassandra
The fresh spring air sweeps back my hair as I step from the car, taking Mikhail’s hand in mine as he snaps my door closed. Each step of my black stilettos clicks against the pavement, and my graduation gown swishes heavily across the bare expanse of my ankles. Ivan follows along at our backs, a grounding shadow behind.
Mikhail’s entire inner circle attended my graduation ceremony, and the group of overgrown, tattooed men caused quite a scene in the bleachers. When they called my name, I had never heard shouts so loud. The entire group hollered at the top of their lungs until tears clung to my carefully lined eyes.
I had a lot of time to think on the drive over here. To change my mind. And yet, walking toward the familiar house, filled with so many of my worst memories, I don’t feel an ounce of doubt in my soul.
“Happy graduation, my love,” Mikhail says as we walk to the door. The wood is warped by time and weather, wearing the same chip I created when I slammed the edge too hard in second grade, anxious to get home to play with my dolls.
My knock echoes through the quiet neighborhood, causing a dog to start barking in the distance. I don’t have to wait long before I hear a shout through the door, the intonation of his voice as familiar as the peeling bricks lining the entrance.
Then the door cracks open, and my mom’s face glances apprehensively through the gap.
My line of sight leaps to the purple bruising under her soft grey eyes. Eyes that wobble with fear when they see me, rather than joy or relief.
The vision sits like lead in my gut.
“Well? Who the fuck is it, Julianne?” Joe’s voice booms out from the living room. Mom glances hurriedly between Mikhail and me, then down to my graduation gown and white, lacy dress. I swear I can see a glimpse of liquid water in her eyes.
“No one, dear. Just a salesman,” she calls back, before ushering me to go away. It hurts to watch, despite knowing she’s just trying to protect me in her own way.
Instead of turning back to the car, Mikhail extends his large arm to my mother.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donahue. I’m Mikhail Solokov, your daughter’s fiancé.”
My face flushes at the words, still not used to hearing the title. Mom’s eyes jump to the diamond ring weighing down my finger, eyebrows flying up in shock.
“I do hope we can get off on the right foot someday, but I’m afraid today might not be that day.”
Mom’s still processing Mikhail’s words with a frown when he pushes the door open, sliding past her through the opening.
“Mom, go wait in the car,” I say sternly, grabbing her hands with mine and interlocking our fingers.
“What? No! But?—”
“Mom,” I say softly, squeezing her fingers to relay the seriousness of my meaning. “Go get in the car.”
She looks so much more tired than the last time I saw her. The years of abuse and control weigh on her back like a welded anchor I can’t remove. She looks up to me, her fight simmering to embers at the elevation of my voice. Seeing the effect kills me, even though I know I’m doing what’s best right now.
At least, that’s what I believe.
