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Chapter Sixteen
VERA
A pair of arms wrap around me in silence, and her scent is what I recognize before I even see her. Olena has a younger sister, one who has been living a life Olena never got to. Unlike my mother, Olena’s woke up one day and decided to do something about her parental failures and made sure that she would never make the same mistakes with Cecilia as she did with Olena. Though, Cecilia had always been close with her sister, she is a different young woman entirely, obsessed with her academics, studying at a school in Germany thanks to her new stepfather. But it doesn’t stop them from looking and smelling almost like twins.
I say nothing and let her hold me, trying to keep the tears at bay. This day is going to be too long and too full of these already. I hate being weak as it is, but I can’t hold back my emotions about her being gone. So, I am settling for a compromise. I am going to limit myself on the amount of tears that I get. The rest can come out in anger as I lash out at my enemies in the near future.
Her mother passes by me with a sad nod and takes her seat. She likely blames herself as much as I blame me for what happened. I decided to hold a memorial for her at the mansion, just those closest to her and my men. She is here in spirit, one lone photograph from when she was clean sitting at the front of the foyer. Her smile is so bright it’s hard to believe she ever had the darkness inside her capable of drawing her to do drugs to begin with. But looks can be deceiving and pasts can haunt you even when life is a s good as it can get. I know that just as much as she did.
Cecilia lets me go and walks around me, and I can’t help but to hold back a gasp. The last time I saw her she certainly looked like her sister, but she has grown now into a young woman, and both her height and her beauty now match Olena's exactly. We squeeze hands for a moment before she joins her mother.
The room is full, and it is almost time for this thing to start. I plan on keeping it simply, a few kind words, the usual religious bits that are just supposed to be there, and then a goodbye.
I feel his presence as my husband falls in sync with me silently, and we take our seats right in front. We haven’t shared more than two words since he stormed out on dinner.
I would be a dumb ass not to know it is my fault we are like this; so cold and business -like. I know that he wants more. I can feel it., I can see it in all the things he has done for me, even if he hasn’t exactly said the words. But I don’t trust in anything like this enough to give in.
Deep down I am angry at myself for keeping him at an arm’s length and continually pushing him away. I may be a bitch, and I may have gotten into this for the power, I will never deny that. But that doesn’t mean I want to be in a marriage for the next decade or even longer where I despise the man I sleep next to.
People talk all the time about how a relationship between two damaged people CAN work, but I have never witnessed it. Someone always ends up regretting that they met the other in the first place.
I think of my mother and father as a prime example. My mother was a druggie, one who loved the drugs so much she abandoned her children and their needs and put them in the care of a man who not only could not function as an adult without her but had never truly had a heart for much of anyone, especially his own seed. It was a throw away thing, and somehow he felt no connection to us. So, when the money ran dry, he just lessened his load of mouths to feed. So fucking simple. No second thought at all.
And the last words I heard either of them speak about each other were filled with loathing.
I sometimes wonder if they would have been different people had they met and fell in love with someone else instead of each other. If they were horrible people because they MADE each other that way. And that is what I am afraid of. that I am so damn toxic I will ruin any shred of humanity Rhys has left inside of him. I will make him bitter, and we will despise each other. I don’t know if I will want to live through that if it’s the consequence of giving into him and his charms.
The priest stands before us and says a few words to begin and then announces me. I don’t know why I ever agreed to say shit in front of everyone, but at least it’s just a priest, and the rest of family in some way or another. And if the men I have gained from the fights give me any shit, then I will just cut off their fucking heads and feed them to the mice.
"Spasybi," I say, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in particular. "I just wanted to say a few words because it felt right. I am not a good speaker. Olena knows that, so I know she will forgive me if I just say it straight. She was special. Special people sometimes don’t fit this world just right. They hurt because of it. But she was my star while she was here, my sister, my family. And maybe her not being here means it’s time for her to rest and be a star for herself. But I am a selfish woman, and so, I will miss her all the same."
I take a deep breath as I almost whisper the last words and quickly return to my seat. I stare straight ahead and tune out the rest of the service because I just can’t take anymore. My bottle of pain is too full.
But when I feel Rhys' hand on mine, I let it stay.
***
My favorite songs have been blasting to a deafening level in this guest room for at least an hour now. It could be more. I don’t really know because I have spent the whole time knocking back vodka. I am dancing and belting out slurs that are out of tune, but I can barely even hold my body up now I feel so fuzzy. I flop into the bed just as a knock comes at the door.
"Come in!" I think I say loudly because I don’t think I am making it to that door to open it.
It must have worked because now Rhys is walking in and shutting the door behind him. Normally in this mood, I’d ask him to fuck me, but things have been hard for us lately, and I don’t think there is much sexy about drunk Vera. She just is stumbly with the loud mouth of a sailor.
He comes over and turns the music down but not off, which I guess I fucking appreciate. I don’t know. I am a mess.
"I came to see how you were. I know we are still angry with each other, but your best friend’s memorial was today..." he trails off as if he doesn’t know what the fuck else to say. I don’t blame him. I don’t know what anyone should say to me either.
What I do know is I don’t want him to go. Not tonight. "Don’t leave," I tell him. "You don’t have to talk." I don’t know how garbled it comes out, if it is clear, but he lays back with me, his hands starting to trail my body. I don’t think he gets what I want, but I can’t blame him for assuming that’s what I would want.
"Fuck....no, Rhys. Stop!" I yell a little too harshly. "Sorry, this just isn’t about that."
Shit. What is wrong with me? What bullshit is spilling from my drunken mouth?
"Then, what is it?" he asks, and I can’t read his expression, but maybe that’s because everything is a little dizzy right now.
"Shit. I don’t know. I think I might be falling for you....shit! I don’t fucking know." I try to sit up and fall back down, my hand running nervously through my messy hair. "I just, I don’t know if I can do this. If I can ever do this."
"Well, why the fuck not?" Rhys asks, and I can hear the pain behind the anger. I don’t think I can hold it in with the state I am in. It’s like there is some kind of damn truth serum in what I had to drink.
"My parents fucking sucked. So did Olena's. And they broke each other. And here I am, already broken. I'll ruin you. We'll ruin each other. We'll rip each other apart if I tell you for one second I feel something."
Rhys leans over me, pressing one side of his body against mine as he tries to get me to focus him. It is no easy task, but I hear him loud and clear. "Everything I have done has been for you, my wife. I don’t know at what point I stopped hating you for being such a bitch, Vera, but I will never hate you again. I can't. And you’re not broken. Someone broke you, but you put those pieces back together all by yourself."
