Page 157 of You + Me – Against the World

He inhales. Exhales.

I grit my teeth. Hold back my tears. Try to swallow, despite the knotted ball of tension blocking my throat.

“I suppose I could call my friend Douglas…”

“Yes, I’m begging you!”

“But nothing in life is free. If I ask him for this favor, I’ll owe him one in return. As for you, what you’re asking of me also has a price.”

He just can’t help lecturing me.

“Anything you want,” I blurt out, relieved.

Big mistake…

“I’ll make sure Vadim avoids prison on one single condition: you break up with him immediately, you return to France, and you never see him again.”

“Dad—”

“End of discussion,” he declares, cutting me off. “That boy will always drag you down. He isn’t right for you.”

“But you can’t—”

“I’m not doing this to punish you, Alma. I’m doing it to protect your future. One day, you’ll thank me.”

I’m speechless.

There it is, the sacrifice Vadim talked about. The consequences that will be felt for the rest of my life. The terrible trade-off. It hits me like a slap across the face. Leaves me stunned.

It’s the price of his freedom.

This time, there’s no doubt: they’re going to take him away from me and never give him back.

This is the price I have to pay for having had the chance to love him.

“Okay.” I accept, my voice barely audible, my fists clenched, my heart shattered, and my eyelids squeezed tightly shut.

Behind my closed eyes, Vadim’s exquisite face appears to me. That face, strangely solemn as I looked at it in the county jail, just before I left the visiting room. As if my subconscious knew what was at stake. As if they were already snatching him away from me.

And as if I had already accepted it.

“I’d just like to see him one last time.”

“There’s no point in putting yourself through that,” my father replies, wrapping an arm around me. “It’s time you started thinking about yourself.”

55

Two days later, my bags are packed, my plane ticket booked. All my memories are packed away in a small cardboard box: the photos, the stuffed koala, the orange blossom perfume, the little messages scribbled on scraps of paper, the heather-gray T-shirt I’ve been holding onto since I wore it the day he was arrested. Everything that ties me to Vadim Arcadi. To the nine most beautiful months of my life.

I spent two sleepless nights writing him the longest letter, unable to put my pen down. I have so much to tell him, but I know I won’t be able to speak to him again.

I’m allowed to attend his hearing today, but it’s over. I won’t be able to get close to him anymore. Won’t be able to touch him, smell him, kiss him. The thought of it fills me with an immense emptiness. I feel as though I don’t even exist anymore. Like I’m a ghost of who I used to be—the person Vadim allowed me to become.

In the crowded courtroom, I sit on a wooden bench, Felix and Clémentine squeezed in on either side of me. Clémentine has slipped her hand into mine, while Felix cracks his knuckles nervously. None of us dares to speak. My father is waiting for me in the parking lot; he will drive me to the airport once I have seen that he kept his word. And I will honor my side of the bargain: I will leave without looking back.

If my legs are willing to carry me. If I can still manage to breathe.

Vadim enters the courtroom through a small side door. He is wearing his regular clothes: jeans, a black T-shirt, and white sneakers. I take in everything I love about him: his tall, muscular body; his broad shoulders; his masculine yet graceful gestures; his slow, almost nonchalant walk; his angelic face; and his stern, dark, tormented look. Seeing him calms me and tears me apart at the same time: he is himself again, a world away from the prisoner in the orange jumpsuit who kept his head down and accepted his fate without a word, but as I watch him I know that I will never be able to stop loving him.