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“He was supposed to marry me. That deal was struck years ago between his father and mine.” Well, I was not expecting that. I had an idea that the mafia did this, but it still hurts knowing that Maxim was engaged to someone else. He could have told me.
“It was all set, and then out of the blue, Maxim backed out of the deal. He ruined my reputation by making me look like I’m not marriage material.” She crosses her arms and looks me up and down.
“Then he shows up with you and parades you in front of everyone.” I knew that was going to bite me in the ass.
“You’re not even Russian. You would bring shame to the Bratva.” She laughs
“Look at you. Would it kill you to close your mouth and lose some damn weight?” Oh, hell no. She’s crossed a line now. I don’t give a shit who she is; she’s not going to speak to me like this.
“If you’re going to insult me, find a better way to do so instead of insulting my weight. Because Maxim doesn’t mind, and like I said earlier, you should deal with him directly if you have a problem with who he’s with. Maybe, he'll give a shit more than I do about what you have to say.”
She starts yelling, then. “You have no fucking idea how embarrassing it is to be dumped and have the guy who dumps you show up with a fat bitch in his arms.” Wow. Anger, so much anger is boiling up inside of me. Control yourself, Sophia. Don’t stoop to her level.
“I’d rather be a fat bitch, than a pathetic little girl with no class who thinks she’s entitled to a man because Daddy says so. Grow up, and maybe a man will pay attention to you.” I push her out the way with my shoulder, but she doesn’t back down and gets in front of me again.
“How dare you talk to me like that.”
“Oh, so you can dish it out but can’t take it? Now, get the fuck out of my way before I make you.”
“You can try to fake it all you want, but you won’t last long. No one will accept you.”
I’m done. I shove her against the wall and run away. I have no idea where I’m going. I run until I’m outside. Fresh air hits me, and I take some deep breaths. Tears form in my eyes. I know I shouldn’t cry, but what she said is true. I’ve had doubts about Maxim and me. From what I've read, I’m not Russian, and the mafia likes to stick to tradition. I have this fake notion that I’m an exception, that Maxim and my love will be enough to overcome everything. What if it's not enough? He’s the boss. He won’t choose me over his people. Seeing a bench by the wall, I take a seat and let my mind wander.
My phone ringing pulls me back. I know who it is before looking at the screen. Maxim. Not wanting to deal with him at the moment, I let the phone ring. He has a way of knowing if something’s wrong with me. It will break me if he belittles my feelings. He may find it stupid to be having doubts about us over a naive girl.
