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There’s an uneasy silence between us as she starts to take my clothes from the closet, folding everything neatly before placing them in the bag.
I begin to clear the dressing table, my eyes constantly darting to her.
“I’m sorry it’s so sudden,” I apologize.
“This is the life we live,” she replies. “When is the wedding?”
“I’m not sure.”
She lets out a sigh. “Just do what he says. Remember to stay out of his way and make sure his meals are always ready when he comes home.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“When he comes home smelling like a whore house, don’t make a fuss. At least he won’t look to you to warm his bed.”
“Armani said we’d be loyal to each other,” I tell her.
“They always say that, child. It means you must be loyal while they sleep with whomever they want.”
Remembering what Armani told me about his parents, I’m sure he’ll be loyal to me, but I don’t mention it to Mrs. Aslanhov.
She folds up one of my nightgowns, then pauses to look at me with worry. “The wedding night. Do you know what to expect?”
Oh crap.
I only know what I’ve seen on TV and heard other girls talk about when I was in school.
My cheeks go up in flames. “I think so.”
“Make sure to wash before the… act.” She quickly stuffs the nightgown in the bag. “The first time is always painful. Try not to cry.”
This is really not a conversation I want to have with her, but I listen obediently.
She packs quicker, clearly uncomfortable as well, but still, she continues, “If you fake that you’re enjoying it, it will be over sooner. Just pretend you’re climaxing.”
I’ve tried to masturbate but could never make myself orgasm, so I figured I’d have to fake it anyway.
“Take a warm bath afterward. It will help lessen the pain.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Men also like it if you praise them.”
“Okay.”
“Never nag him. They have stressful jobs and will take it out on you.”
I nod, and having cleared my dressing table, I dart into the bathroom to get my toiletries.
Mrs. Aslanhov comes to stand in the doorway, a sad expression on her face. “I loved having you here. The house will be empty without you.”
“Oh, Mama,” I gasp, emotions rising in my chest. I hurry forward and wrap my arms around her. “Thank you for everything you’ve taught me. I’ll try to visit.”
She pats my back between my shoulder blades. “Don’t forget to add cinnamon in the honey cake.”
“I won’t.” A tear spirals down my cheek. “I’ll call as often as I can.”
She nods as she pulls away, and sniffing, she returns to the bedroom to pack the last of my clothes.
The atmosphere feels heavy between us as we carry my luggage down the stairs.
“Be a good wife, Tiana. Make me proud,” she whispers before we reach the kitchen.
“I’ll do my best, Mama.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Try to have a baby as soon as possible. It will give you something to live for.”
I nod again.
Rubbing my shoulder, she says, “You’ll be fine.”
It sounds like she’s trying to reassure herself.
“I’ll call often,” I remind her.
When we walk into the kitchen, Armani stands up. “That was quick.”
“It’s best you leave before my husband gets home. I’m sure he’s not happy about the deal with Mr. Makarova falling through,” Mrs. Aslanhov says, already ushering us to the front door.
I give her another hug, and feeling sad for leaving like this, I step out of the house. The cold wind whips around us as we walk to the rental car.
After the luggage is loaded into the trunk, I look at the house where I spent my teenage years. Waving at Mrs. Aslanhov, I swallow hard on the lump in my throat, then climb into the passenger seat.
This is it. From here on out, I’m dependent on Armani.
The thought makes me feel uncomfortable, and while he reverses the car out of the driveway, I steal a glance at him.
Like always, he looks calm and collected. Having exchanged the combat uniform for a suit, he’s a million times more handsome.
His eyes catch mine before he continues to drive down the street. “Are you okay?”
I turn my attention to the other houses, thinking it might be the last time I see this neighborhood.
“Yes.” Feeling nervous about my future with Armani, I ask, “What is it like in Venice?”
A warm smile spreads over Armani’s face. “Unlike here, our streets are water canals. There are sidewalks, but most people use the canals to get around.” His eyes flick to me before he continues, “It’s not a big city, so you’ll get used to seeing the same faces every day.”
My mouth curves up at the sides. “Are there cars in Venice?”
Armani shakes his head. “No, it’s not allowed within the city. You can only move around by boat or on foot.” His smile widens. “I think you’ll love it there. You’ll get to know my mother and aunt, so you won't be alone when I’m away for work.”
