Loin des yeux, loin du coeur, French people say. It’s worse than ‘out of sight, out of mind’ because it literally translates with ‘out of sight, out of your heart’. I almost died of heartbreak losing my parents. Losing my friends was a latent disappointment. Losing Dante and his two lovers, being forgotten by my aunt Mariella, that would kill me.
My nose tingles. Sighing, I get out of bed and into the en-suite, setting the water to freezing cold before placing my phone on the counter.
My breath seizes as I step under the spray. The first few seconds are always the worst, my heart rate going on overdrive to protect my body from what my brain considers an assault. It’s better than what I used to do, though.
I breathe through my mouth, deeply in and out, not letting panic set in, and count in my head to a hundred. These cold showers help get my brain out of negative self-talk and reset my nervous system in just a few minutes. Maybe it’s torture, but when I slowly turn the temperature to warm, my mind is clear and a soft smile spreads on my lips again.
As usual, when I step out, I ignore the large mirror on my side and wrap myself in a towel, avoiding the view of what I did to my body. If I don’t see it, I can pretend it never happened.
A text from Aleksei welcomes me. It’s a link to a flat in Edinburgh. Sometimes, he’s even more protective than Dante. I shimmy my shoulders with delight at the little proof of love from my emotionally-stunted ex-husband, then click on the link. The images of the place are perfect. It’s a one-bedroom flat not far from the Meadows, in a quiet street. I didn’t want something too extravagant, and he really delivered.
I never expected to form a bond with Aleksei, but after he agreed to never touch me, we became friends. Or whatever two people forced to cohabit become when violence and blood are used as threads to bind them.
My heart clenches at leaving him, Dante and his wife, Irina, behind, but now that my mood has shifted for the best, I place the thought in a neat, little box called ‘Do not think about’.
I forward the link to Irina, though I’m sure she’s already seen it. Even approved of it, knowing how controlling she is.
Me
Do you think I should order pink curtains? The ones on the photos are grey. That’s depressing.
She answers me within minutes.
Irina
Pink curtains are a must for you. I also made sure the triple lock I ordered for your front door was painted pink to go well with your future decor.
I love her so much. She knows me well.
Irina saw me for me. She noticed my potential and took me under her wing, brought me to the shooting range with her to train. She’d probably say I forced the friendship and she’d be correct. I was desperate for someone to talk to, and her cold demeanour was a great challenge for my restless mind. Challenge conquered, considering she texts me every day now. Without me having to text first, sometimes. The mean voice in my head screams it’s only because of thatdamn family loyalty, but I silenced it with a breath and a fake smile.
I admired her immediately. We were both bred to be dutiful daughters of powerful men, but she fought her destiny with everything she had. I just… accepted it, I guess.
It’s easier to do what people assume I should do. When I’m needed, I can carve a little spot for myself in their lives. If I smile, if I’m accommodating, they won’t leave me behind.
I just started feeling at home again here, with all three of them. My marriage might have been a sham but I care about the silent Bratva kingpin, his Ice Queen step-sister who now runs the entire Cosa Nostra in the UK, and my cousin.
I giggle remembering how they all prowled around each other for weeks before finally taking that step. I even made Aleksei celebratory cupcakes when he told me he fucked both Irina and Dante. At the same time.
I must keep summoning them. Dante’s name appears on my screen as my phone rings.
“Ciao,cugino,” I greet.
“Ciao, bella. Are you ready? I’m throwing you a party at the mansion tonight. Irina wanted it to be a surprise but I need you to wear that pink dress you love. I’ve planned everything with the photographer.”
I smile as he keeps rambling about my goodbye party. After all he’s been through, seeing Dante happy again is a joy to witness. We were so close to losing him. I shake my head at the morbid thought. No need to get sad, he’s safe. I plaster a smile on my face and immediately, my mood brightens. That neat little trick I do to my brain has saved me from pain for eight years. I won’t let the overflow of grief and anxiety submerge me now.
“Who’s on the guest list?” I ask, but my voice cracks, taking on a higher tone. I hate it when my body betrays me.
“Why? Are you expecting anyone?” Dante taunts, and I roll my eyes at the smile I can practicallyhearthrough the speaker.
“Not really. I only like you, the Bratva brats andzia. Honestly, why do we even have to throw a party? A simple dinner would have been fine.”
It’s a lie. First, because after feeling like an after-thought for so long, being the centre of attention is kind of nice. And let’s be honest, the Italo-Russian coalition Dante and the Dobrev siblings have created is really fun to be around. Second, I’m going to be gone soon and maybe I’d love to steal a peek of the man who’s inhabiting my dreams. One last time. Just to have something to recollect when I’m all alone in my flat, surrounded by too many study papers due the next day.
Dante knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t push. I would never admit thata manhas my panties in a twist.
That’s one of the positive aspects of moving to Edinburgh in a few days. I will never have to see Toma Kovac ever again. I’m finally about to create the life I want, where people don’t die in blood feuds like my parents did, and where loyalty is earned with love, not expected through violence and fake smiles.
