Fears and Scars (15 page)

“
T
o us
,” Polina says raising her tiny glass of vodka in the air, her pretty round face radiant.

Mika, Nadia, and I follow. “May the next semester be easy, and may we ace everything again.”

As the four of us clink our glasses together and cheer, Nadia adds, “And to Polina! May your engagement be short, your marriage long, happy, and full of great sex.”

Everyone adds their congratulations, and after another round of clinking, I bring the glass to my lips and tip it back.

The alcohol ignites a fiery trail down my throat and heats my stomach. The happiness simmering under my skin has nothing to do with drinks. My ridiculous grin is from being happy and feeling extremely proud of what I’ve achieved in few short months. Besides acing all of my evening classes here in Moscow, I passed all my online exams at the University of Washington. Plus, I was awarded a partial scholarship for the next semester at UW, which starts at the end of the month.

I can’t believe I’m celebrating the end of the summer semester with my college friends. It may be an ordinary thing to some people, but to me it’s huge. One of my biggest dreams—getting a degree—is starting to come true.

“Come on, girls, let’s dance,” Polina suggests after a second round of shots. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I’m in a great mood tonight, but I don’t feel like dancing for some reason.

The words Ryan once told me invade my mind and the recollection sends a stab of lancing pain straight to my chest.

“Liza, you coming?”

Shaking away thoughts of the past, I tell them, “Go on, I’ll join you soon.”

Another drink is needed to keep me from musing about the past, so I carefully maneuver myself through the throng toward the polished bar. Taking a seat at the very end, I dig some cash out of my purse and order a martini. Not my favorite drink, but it doesn’t remind me of anything. Memory-free alcohol is exactly what I need right now.

From my seat, I survey the crowded room. People are everywhere drinking, dancing, making out, laughing, hanging out with their friends. A smile stretches across my face when I notice my girls dancing their asses off. They deserve to have fun. We worked hard all summer, juggling full-time jobs, evening classes, study sessions, and tons of other obligations.

Then my gaze stops on a couple in a far corner of the room dancing between tables. They are hugging close and swaying to their own beat like no one exists except them.

I know what it’s like to be so in love you see nothing but him, and I miss it. Miss the elation that comes with being entirely consumed by another person. Miss being looked at like I’m the only person in the world, not to mention the inferno that coursed through every part of me when Ryan and I were together.

Shit. The purpose of this night is to celebrate with my friends, not reminisce about the past.

I concentrate on a local band and make a mental note to remember their name and check them out on the web.

“Having a good time?” a deep voice next to me asks.

I turn my head and look at the guy who is sitting one stool down to the right. I was so busy with my thoughts I hadn’t even noticed him. He looks to be in his early twenties and cute—curly, messy brown hair, grey eyes, nice jaw, black-framed glasses. I notice how he holds all of his weight with his forearms pressed against the countertop. Ryan used to do that.

God, stop, Liza. Just stop.
Why am I always searching for similarities to torture myself?

He smiles at me, and I remember he asked me something. Whether I was having a good time, I think.

“I am.” I leave my answer short, indicating I’m not interested.

He extends his hand. “I’m Roman. Nice to meet you.”

I return the handshake reluctantly. “Liza.”

I can’t help noticing the way Roman’s eyes sweep from my chest to my legs and back again.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks when he’s done with his slow appraisal. The smug expression on his face tells me he likes what he sees, but all I want to do is punch him in the face for treating me like a piece of meat.

“Thank you, but I won’t need another one for a while,” I say pointing to my full glass and wishing he would leave me alone.

There are a few minutes of uncomfortable silence when I consider abandoning my drink and joining the girls on the dance floor when he suggests, “How about a dance?”

I don’t like how he leans closer toward me. “I don’t—”

“Hey, bud. Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company.” Ivan, the one and only male member of my study group, flashes his boyish smile to Roman as he puts his arm around my shoulders.

I’ve never been so happy to see him and his man bun in my entire life.

Roman’s eyes grow big as he takes in Ivan’s six foot four inch frame. He immediately raises his hands indicating he meant no harm. “Sorry, thought she was alone.”

“No problem,” Ivan answers and takes a seat on the tall stool next to me.

I happily observe Roman’s retreating form.

“Sorry about the girlfriend thing. Saw you needed rescuing and didn’t want to start a fight.”

“Thanks.” I give my friend a genuine smile. He has been nothing but good to me since I met him in class at the start of the summer. “I needed rescuing for sure. I promised Polina to stay until midnight, but I needed another drink before dancing.”

“Polina can talk anyone into whatever she wants.”

“Since she’s the brainiac of our study group and the next semester isn’t so far off we have to play nice,” I joke.

Ivan raises his beer bottle. “To playing nice and enjoying it once in a while.”

I clink my glass to his bottle and take a sip of my drink.

Wow, this tastes good.

The liquor almost doesn’t burn down my throat and tastes quite delectable. For a person who doesn’t like alcohol, that’s saying a lot.

“Polina seems happy, right?” Ivan’s question sounds more like a statement.

I look at the dance floor where my friend in question is jumping up and down, her eyes closed and hands in the air. When I turn my gaze to Ivan, he’s watching her with longing.

“She does,” I answer him truthfully even though I know my answer will cause him pain. He seems to have a serious crush on her.

“Why haven’t you ever tried anything with her when you had time?”

Ivan takes a deep pull from his beer before answering, “Liza, I’m working at a construction firm while her boyfriend is a doctor, and I live on my brother’s couch.”

“Polina isn’t like that.” She’s one of the sweetest girls I’ve met.

“I know.” I see him exhale. “I’m just not the best boyfriend material. I know she needs something serious, and I can’t give it to her. Not now. I have no idea what I want to do in life. Besides, this conversation is kind of pointless since she’s engaged now.”

“She may not be engaged tomorrow. Her fiancé can just decide he changed his mind.” The venomous words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“It must be hard for you.”

Ivan is one of a few people who knows about my engagement. I don’t even remember how it slipped out. I didn’t elaborate why it was over to anyone except Nina. Suddenly it occurs to me that I was engaged twice, and both resulted in … nothing … and I’m the only common factor in both equations.

I shake my head, not wanting to go down this road, not tonight. I had a long day at work, and I’m supposed to be having fun now.

“It’s fine. Nothing a drink or two can’t cure,” I declare before sipping my delicious martini.

“Were you happy with him?”

“Very,” I say without hesitation.

It’s the truth. Ryan was my happiness. But he was also my pain. It was agony to lose him. It still is. Every day.

“You still love him? That’s why you’re turning everyone down?”

I let the question linger.

Do I still love Ryan?
Like you wouldn’t believe. I know it’s been months and he hasn’t come back. It’s pathetic, but my heart is still his.

I’m also scared to death that he was it for me. That I already had this epic love, and now I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. I know I’ll never settle for something less than what I felt with Ryan.

I tried going on a date last month just to prove I was strong enough to move on. Well, it was a fiasco. Two of the most boring hours of my life followed by complete humiliation when my date tried to kiss me and I almost puked. Thank God he saw the disgusted expression on my face and pulled away.

Instead of telling the hard and pathetic truth to Ivan, I suggest, “Let’s just have a drink.”

He seems to recognize my reluctance to talk about love, so we just drink and talk about everything and nothing for the next hour or so.

Before I know it, I’m drunk off my ass and dancing with the girls who are thrilled I joined their fun. It seems like only minutes pass before Ivan is walking me out of the bar for some reason.

“Boo. When did he get to be such a killjoy? I was having fun.” I slur my words.

“The bar’s closing and you’re drunk. Plus, it seems like martinis robbed you of your ability to speak Russian. I only understand half of what you’re saying, American girl. Come on, you need to sleep it off.”

“I want to dance,” I protest as he helps me get into a cab.

“God, you only had three drinks with me. You’re a light weight.” He smiles getting in after me and telling the driver my address. I’m thankful we had a few study sessions at my place, and he knows where I live because wracking my brain for information sounds like an impossible mission.

“Don’t take me home.” I pout, “Ryan isn’t there. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Liza, it’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.” He hugs me to him, and the rest of the ride is silent.

“You’re a good friend, Ivan,” I tell him when he helps me get out of the cab. My legs are like Jell-O, so I put my arms around his neck to keep myself upright. “Why can’t we love each other, huh?” I ask, looking into his eyes. They are brown, nothing like Ryan’s perfect green depths. “Why didn’t I meet you at the airport?” My mind may be a little fuzzy. Okay. A lot fuzzy. But it sounds like a brilliant idea to me.

“Airport?” He smiles and shakes his head at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, woman. But I know you need to sleep it off.”

“Right. You’re so smart. A smart cookie! Oh, I want cookies. I’ve never had pot cookies. Have you? Tell me, tell me!” I may even try to jump up and down, but it seems like I’m sliding up and down his body.

“Jeez. You’re a loud and weird drunk. Keep it down or you’ll wake half of your neighborhood. And yes, I tried pot cookies. Nothing special.”

“You’re funny. A funny bunny.” I give him a loud peck on the cheek.

“Come on, Liza.”

That’s the last thing I remember before sleep comes.

I
slam
my car door behind me and rev the engine more forcefully than necessary. The tires screech against the smooth pavement, and I tear out of the parking lot.

Opening the pictures my PI sent me this evening was a sucker punch to the gut.

Elizabeth in the arms of another man. Having drinks with him at the bar, dancing, hugging him, smiling, kissing his cheek, practically hanging on him. And then them both disappearing inside her building.

She’s mine!

I slam my foot on the gas, taking my aggression out on the car. The acceleration does nothing to dissipate my pain. I barely register I’m breaking the speed limit, too busy imagining some other man touching Elizabeth the way only I’ve touched her.

She’s mine!

Repulsive images of the woman I love in another man’s arms assault me, slicing me open.

She is fucking mine. Only mine.

Every single part of her, from her head to her toes, belongs to me.

Bitter anger laces itself around my pain.

She moved on. I miss her with a brutality I can’t describe. I think about her every second of every day and she … moved on.

How could she?

Hours later, I kill the engine in my building’s underground parking, rest my forehead against the steering wheel, and take a few deep breaths.

He’s still there. Touching her, kissing her, having sex with her. The thought has bile rising in my throat.

I slam my hand on the steering wheel. “Fucking asshole!”

I must admit that a huge part of me really hoped Elizabeth would wait. Hell, even if it wasn’t legal, back in France we promised to hold our love sacred. I know she’s free to be with anyone, has every right to be. We aren’t together. Haven’t been together for five months. I cannot expect her to be single forever. Yet, it still hurts like a motherfucker.

For a moment, I wish my love for her wasn’t so deep, and I could move on too. I laugh brokenly at this ridiculous thought. It has only ever been Elizabeth for me and always will be.

When the elevator opens inside my apartment, I come face to face with Jessica Davis, Jacob’s tutor.

“Mr. Price, I was just on my way home. How’re you?”

She’s always sweet, as she should be considering how much I pay her.

“How is Jacob doing?”

“Very good. He’s catching up quickly.”

“Good.”

“You sure you’re all right?” Jessica asks me.

I look her up and down. She’s tall and slim but looks very different than Elizabeth. Blue eyes, dark hair in a pixie cut, olive skin. Jessica is also older, closer to my age. “What if I’m not?”

It would be easy to use her, wouldn’t it?

“I …” She smiles seductively. “I can help. Just say the word, Mr. Price.” My name sounds like some kind of trophy on her lips, but I chose to ignore it.

My thumb goes to her cheek. Her skin is silky, but she is just plain wrong. This whole situation is wrong. I want no one but Liz.

Maybe she didn’t spend the night with that bastard in the photos? Maybe she couldn’t do it ‘cause it felt wrong to her too?

Either way, I won’t do it.

“Ryan?” she asks me confused when I brusquely take my hand away from her face.

Before I can say anything, I hear Jacob’s voice. “Miss Davis, I think it’s time for you to go. Right, Ryan?”

“It is. Goodnight,” I tell her and make my way into my home office. I need a drink.

I
haven’t been
with anyone since Liz. I would never do that to her. In my heart and mind, she’s my wife, and I’m committed to her and her alone. But what now? More than anything I want her to be happy. But that doesn’t mean I can stand by and watch her happiness come with someone else. I can’t bear that thought, not even a little.

Maybe I should stop spying on her then?

“Is that how you treat my sister?” Jacob’s question makes me pour another finger of scotch to my usual two.

“It’s not,” I mutter, tilting my head back and swallowing the burning liquid.

“That’s not what I saw.” When I don’t offer anything, he tells me, “I don’t need a tutor anymore. I can’t understand her for shit anyway.”

“You’re lying,” I say taking a seat in my office chair.

“And so are you. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Elizabeth, but I won’t let you be this disrespectful to her.”

“If I promise to never even look at Miss Davis, will you agree to let her continue being your tutor?”

“No. I need another tutor that won’t be all over you like a cheap suit. Preferably in her fifties unless you’re into cougars.” With that, he storms out of the room.

I tip the glass back and drain it in two gulps.

Growing up, I had little freedom and it was a nightmare. That’s why I’ll never go against Jacob’s wishes unless they harm him. If he wants another tutor, he’ll get one.