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They say that time can heal all wounds.
But what if the wounds are still festering?
What if there is no cure?
What do you do then?
It’s been twelve years, and I still have no answer to that question. It hovers over me like a black hole in the dark universe. I know it will eventually suck me in and eat me alive. The only question is when.
As I stand here, lost in my thoughts, I forget how hot the water is. The bathroom is fogged up, and I can barely see in front of me.
Quickly, I turn the shower knob. The water temperature changes fast. Now it feels like it’s pouring ice over my body.
I shiver against the pellets hitting my skin.
But I welcome it. The job is done. It cools the memories, thrusting them back into the crevices of my mind where I need to keep them.
At least for now.
That maybe won’t be the case soon, but until I can do something about it, I have to make it day by day. I have to survive the torture this man inflicts upon me, even if that means entertaining his friend’s children. Or being paraded around like a high-priced hooker, one whose virtue is the price of the right political alliance.
I take a deep breath and continue to wash my hair until the water runs clear from the suds, then I turn it off and pull back the curtain to grab my towel.
When I’m done drying my skin, I can’t help but stare at myself in the cloudy mirror.
I lean over the bathroom countertop until I’m close enough to touch my reflection. I look exhausted, weary, and above all—like I’ve seen too much. Although my face is what others might construe as perfect, at twenty-two, to me, it’s anything but. Too much emotional weight sits on my shoulders. Eyes that always look haunted by the ghosts of my past.
Will I ever feel young and carefree again?
You will figure it out, Viviana.
Everything will be okay. I must tell myself that, even if it’s not true.
I’m almost done with school. I’ll get a job.
Yep. That’s it. Once I get a job, it will be over. I won’t need him anymore.
Pushing my shoulders back, I stand taller, knowing I won’t let him win.
Eventually, I will be the victor.
Hours later, we’re at the bar.
As much as I pretend I want to be here, I don’t. My nerves are too shot for what tomorrow will bring. Carefree hasn’t been in my vocabulary since I was ten years old and learned what I was born into.
I know I should get drunk with my friend and not think about it, but I can’t.
The black cloud hangs over me. There is no pushing it away. How could I? Every time I see him, there is another demand made of me. Something he needs me to do that I don’t want to.
No matter what, though, no matter what is asked, I’ll do it.
I will willingly give another piece of my soul for the price of my friends.
The music blares through the space, drowning out some of my thoughts. I can barely hear anything as I feel Julia’s hand on my arm.
“Let’s grab a drink,” she says, pulling me with her to the bar. I take a moment to let my eyes scan the room. Sleek, red velvet booths surround the space, and black crystal chandeliers hang from above.
“Sure!” I yell back.
Together, we make our way across the room. Once we are standing in front of the bartender, we order drinks.
He’s quick at making them, smiling at me as he pours the liquid into the glasses.
As I lift it to my mouth, I swear I see someone staring at me from across the bar.
Yes. He’s one hundred percent looking at me.
Wow.
He’s handsome. Dangerously so. The kind of handsome you read about in romance books.
Mesmerizing eyes. Jet-black hair.
He has the perfect five o’clock shadow, and his cheekbones are so sharp my fingers itch to touch them.
Something is menacing in the way he stares at me, making my back muscles go rigid.
“Viv,” I hear Julia say, but I’m transfixed by the man across the bar. “Viv…” she says again, and I finally turn to her. “Everything okay?” she asks.
“I was just … The man over there,” I respond, gesturing over my shoulder with my head.
A line forms between her brows. “What man?”
“Across the bar.”
“There’s no one—”
“Right there . . .” I look over to where he was, and no one is there. The space is completely empty.
I shake my head in confusion.
He was there, wasn’t he?
I lift the drink to my mouth and continue to look around. But there is absolutely no one who even resembles the man anywhere in the bar.
I must have been imagining him.
“Come on, let’s dance,” Jules shouts above the sound of the music, but I shake my head.
