MARINA
When the Uber pulls up to the address Stepan sent me, I sit there staring at it for a moment feeling reluctant. I don't know if it's one of his friends' houses or some second home. I didn't think he was all that wealthy, though I did meet him at those fights. But he's never come across as a man who flaunts his wealth.
"Something wrong?" the Uber driver asks, looking over his shoulder. But this is the place he told me to go.
"No, nothing," I mumble, hesitantly opening the door.
Before I'm even out of the car all the way, a man in dark clothing walks out the front door toward me and I cower for a second. He looks scary.
“Marina?” he asks, and I nod, too scared to speak. “Come on in. Stepan will be back soon. He told us to make you comfortable.”
Another glance back at the driver, and I clear the door and close it. This whole thing feels way out of my comfort zone, but I called him for a reason. I can't expect him to drop everythingat a moment's notice to run to my aid. Still, he did his best by sending me here, wherever "here" is.
The man leads me to the door as the Uber driver pulls away. My nerves are shot now, too on edge to come down from this fight or flight I've been feeling ever since Maksim tried to strangle me. I'm sure he would have, too, if my father wouldn’t have walked in. And I know he'll come back to finish it if I even so much as protest doing what he ordered. But I'm not killing my baby.
We walk into a home that's much warmer and friendlier than the house Stepan has been taking me to. The walls aren't bare here, and the place looks lived in, with shoes by the door and mail on the side table. It immediately strikes me as someone's home, which makes me wonder why Stepan's home is so bare, no art, no pictures or evidence of life.
“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything while you wait?”
"Uh, no, thank you," I mumble as my eyes land on the sofa across the room. The long white leather sectional curves around a glass coffee table where a few beer bottles are perched, but they're dry—emptied earlier today or some time before that. When I sit gingerly on the edge, I notice a framed picture hung above the mantel and see Stepan there with a group of men who are all smiling.
I don't know any of those men, and to be honest, I realize I still don't even know Stepan's last name. I'm sitting here in some stranger's home waiting on him while he's off doing God only knows what. I don’t know what my life has become.
Tears well up and roll down my cheeks. Nothing is as it seems anymore. I once thought Maksim actually cared about this marriage before I started seeing things objectively enoughto realize he only cared about the business side of it. Now the blinders are fully off and all it took was for me to show my humanity.
I'm terrified of what he'll do next. I know how powerful his family is and what resources he has, and knowing I won't ever do what he has demanded only makes this fear worse. My father will suffer the consequences of it, our family, the business... I'll never be able to make this right, and all because I wanted to have an adventure before I got locked into this. I couldn't leave well-enough alone and just be happy with my lot in life.
I cry until my eyes hurt and my nose is running, exhausting the travel pack of tissues in my purse. Then I cry a bit more, not sure how long passes before I set my purse down and curl up on the couch, kicking my shoes off.
Stepan will be so angry, but I have to tell him about the baby. If he cares about me at all, he will have to help me think about how to navigate this. It's obvious I can't marry Maksim now, not if he's going to force me to have an abortion, but allowing my family to suffer isn't an option, either. I feel so trapped between what I want and what I know my father expects me to do.
As it is, he's probably going mad with rage right now, searching for me and calling all of his soldiers to hunt me down. I'd be surprised if he doesn’t show up here and knock on the door to drag me home. He's done worse things before.
When my emotions are somewhat dried up and I'm almost dozing, I hear the front door open. Heavy footsteps come down the hallway as I sit up quickly and try to wipe my face. Then Stepan steps into the sitting room and my heart lurches.
He looks worried about me, though his hair is disheveled and his top buttons are undone, tie hanging loose. Nothing seems out of place, but I get the sense it hasn’t been a good evening for him as he sinks onto the couch next to me and takes my hand.
He stops when he sees me and his expression softens right away.
“Hey, I'm here now..." He leans in and kisses me softly, then pulls back. “Why are you crying, baby? Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," I lie, but I can see he doesn't believe me. His hand moves to my hair and smooths it back from my face.
"You eat today?" he asks.
"A little."
"A little meaning what?" The way he looks at me so gently is so different from the way I've been treated today.
"I had toast this morning."
He exhales a little hard as he keeps running his fingers through my hair, pulling me into his chest. "I'll fix you a plate," he says.
"I'm not hungry."
"Marina."
"I'm not, I swear..." My hand splays on his chest and I feel his heart hammering.