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“Where’s my mother’s grave?” I ask Mikhail, meeting his eyes. In the year after my mother’s passing, I waited for my father to make good on his word of finding the perfect spot to bury my mother’s empty casket.
I waited. And waited. And waited.
Until, finally, I left. But surely, in his remaining years before he died, he found the time to memorialize his wife.
Mikhail’s expression flickers like he’s in pain. He reaches for my hand and tugs me closer to him. “Valentina...” He draws a breath and brings his other hand to my face, tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I wait for him to lead me in the direction of her grave. I’d like to pay my respects. Tell my mother hello, even though she’s not really there. Shed a tear or two for the time we lost.
I wait . . . but Mikhail doesn’t move.
My breath catches. “No.” I shake my head, not willing to believe what his silence is telling me. “No, that can’t be.” I try to turn my head to survey the entire family cemetery, but Mikhail’s hand dives into my hair and cradles the back of my head.
“Shh. It’s okay.”
He tries to capture my attention, but I’m frantic, battering my hands against his chest. “No. No. Nonono.” I strain my neck against Mikhail’s hold, but he pulls me into his arms and locks me against his body. Like statues, we stand together, the cool autumn air surrounding us.
Suffocating us.
I try to breathe, but it comes out ragged. “How dare he. How dare he.” A sob racks my chest, but I rein it in, choking on my sudden, overwhelming sorrow.
It doesn’t make sense. They were married for twenty years! How could he not fulfill his promise and give me something to remember her by. How could he not want anything?
A chill creeps up my spine as I think of my mother’s secret letter.
“No.” I push against Mikhail, but he holds me tight, rigid in his embrace. “Let me go, Mikhail. Let me go.”
“I won’t let you hurt yourself.”
I snap my head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt myself,” I hiss, glaring at him. “I’m gonna...” I struggle to find the words. What am I going to do?
It doesn’t matter. I just need to do something. “Just let me go, okay!”
He exhales slowly, his amber eyes intense as he studies me. “If you run, I’ll catch you.”
I almost laugh. Where does he expect me to go?
Slowly, hesitantly, he releases his hold on me. I can tell he doesn’t want to; he grimaces like it’s a horrible mistake and stays close enough to grab me if I fall or flee.
I do neither. Instead, I turn back to my father’s grave and glare daggers at the dead bastard’s buried corpse. “You didn’t even bury her!” I yell, stomping on his stupid plot. “All this space out here! A fucking casket, Dad! You bought the most glamorous casket I’ve ever seen, and for what? To put on a show?” I clench my fists. I want to punch something. Throw something fragile and hear it break. Strangle my stupid, arrogant, lying bastard of a father.
He wasn’t looking for the perfect spot to bury his perfect wife. He was never going to bury her.
“What is wrong with him?” My frown feels permanent as I stomp over his corpse and plant the heel of my foot on the gravestone. I push, extending my leg as far as I can, but it doesn’t budge.
Of course, it doesn’t.
My rage grows. What else did he lie to me about? What else did he hide from me?
Mikhail’s arms lock onto my own, and he hauls me back, forcing me away from my father’s tombstone. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he murmurs gently.
“I want to hurt him,” I snarl, still glaring at my father’s stupid tomb. “This is all his fault!”
Mikhail hums in the back of his throat as he drags me out of the cemetery. I don’t have the energy to fight this time, so I let him half-carry me across the lawn. We move in silence until Mikhail starts veering in the opposite direction of the house, toward a long, unbroken line of wrought-iron fencing on the far side of the property.
“I want to show you something.” His eyes sparkle like he’s got a secret, but I’m done with secrets.
“Tell me what it is, or I’m not going.” I plant my feet and shrug out of Mikhail’s grasp, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can’t deal with any more secrets today.”
