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In others, it’s a staggering visual reminder that I’m entirely alone here. At least the sprawling metropolis of Philadelphia provided the flimsy illusion of company. Here, snow-covered ground stretches endlessly in every direction.
My companion today is just as silent as yesterday’s was. I think his name is Ivan, but I’m not sure. It’s impossible to keep track of the constant flow of people in and out of Nick’s estate. It feels more like living on a military base than staying in someone’s home.
Nick hasn’t limited my movements in any way. I have the freedom to go anywhere in the house I want and to explore the grounds as well. Nothing is off-limits.
All of the personal items from my apartment arrived, neatly arranged in boxes, just as Nick said they would. I’ve hardly unpacked, holding on to hope this is all temporary. But it’s been a week with no indication we’ll be leaving anytime soon.
I’ve barely spoken to Nick since I confronted him in his office. He’s always distracted and busy. The constant flow of traffic has been mostly in and out of his office, where intense conversations take place. They’re always in Russian, so even when I try to eavesdrop, I can’t. I’ve tried to pick up on key words to search on the fancy encrypted phone that was delivered to my room the second day here, but I can’t get the spelling right. Unless Nick decides to get chatty, I’m oblivious.
The only times I’ve left the property since arriving is to ride with Leo on the trip to and from his new school.
I could leave more often, but I don’t know where I would go. When we were in Philadelphia, I’d go to work and to Leo’s school and grocery shopping essentially.
I’m not working, and all my meals are prepared for me now. I have nothing but free time and nothing to do. No friends to talk to. The brief calls to Michael, June, my work, and Leo’s school, under the watchful eyes of two of Nick’s men, were more stressful than comforting.
As expected, the conversation with June was the most difficult. She’s the closest friend I’ve ever had, one of the few people on the planet I’ve ever entrusted with Leo. And I know she’s already experienced more than her fair share of loss and tragedy.
That’s how life often works in my experience. Life likes to strike once and then pummel away until there’s hardly anything besides devastation left.
I told her I’d left to care for a sick relative overseas. That I hoped I’d be back soon and would call her once I was. Then, I claimed to be borrowing a phone running low on international minutes and hung up.
I’m not sure if international minutes are even a thing.
I left voice mails for Leo’s school and at the law firm, both of which were closed. I forgot about the time difference. On both answering machines, I parroted the line about a sick relative. I’ll have to find a new job, I’m sure, but that’s nothing I can do anything about until I’m back.
Breaking up with Michael was surprisingly easy. Embarrassingly easy almost after dating for two months. I thought my feelings were stronger toward him than just…like. Maybe I was too busy with the rest of my life to give it enough notice. Maybe I forgot what it feels like to have strong feelings for someone. To notice when they’re not in the room and feel a fizziness when they are around.
My memories aren’t hazy when it comes to Nick. I clung to them, especially after I found out I was pregnant. I wanted…somethingto be able to tell Leo when he was older.
And I wanted to feel less alone.
My few friends in Philadelphia were all through UPenn. I dropped out at the end of freshman year. My scholarship paid my tuition, but I was already struggling to pay my other living expenses when I learned I was pregnant. There was no way I could afford to continue going to class and also have a baby.
I remember everything that happened between me and Nick. But I forgot—or blocked out—how I feel around him.
That I notice when he’s not in the room and I react when he is.
And I can tell myself it’s because things were left unresolved between us. Because there’s resentment and anger about how he left and how he reappeared. Because his decisions are currently determining my life in ways I don’t appreciate.
But I think, beneath it all, there’s something else.
Something I’m scared to face and terrified to name.
Something that endures over time and distance and uncertainty.
Puffs of air leave my mouth as I stare out at the unforgiving landscape, watching the tiny clouds dissipate into nothing. Up until last week, I’d never left the United States. Now, I’m thousands and thousands of miles away from any familiarity. Dropped in the middle of an arctic wasteland.
It’s beautiful here. I’m not too bitter to admit that.
I only got a glimpse of Moscow when we arrived. But as someone who’s almost exclusively lived in cities, there’s something about looking around and seeing absolutely nothing that I thought I would hate but have come to crave. My walks outside have become more and more frequent despite the freezing temperatures.
It’s the one way I have to escape the mess in my head. While I’m out here, the world looks big and peaceful, and my problems seem solvable and small.
Exercise is one of those things that fell by the wayside the past few years. In high school, I loved running. I’d join all the track and cross-country practices but miss all the meets so I could work shifts at the local diner.
Running lately would require waking up even earlier or going out after dark. Either before or after the busy shuffle of getting Leo to and from school and me getting to and from work, mixed in with errands and meals.
It would have eaten into my meager free time and required being out alone at unreasonable hours. Not only would that put my own safety at risk, but it also fed into my greatest fear—leaving Leo alone.
