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If I’d thought it was hard before to keep up the facade, it feels almost impossible now.
Sleeping with Levin was the last thing that I’d thought would happen when I’d gone to meet him on the beach. It hadn’t even felt in the realm of possibility. And yet–we’d ended up in bed together.
I don’t regret it. Ican’t. Afterwards, it had felt inevitable. As if I’d been lying to myself day after day, pretending that wasn’t where we were going to end up eventually, as if we could keep fooling around and stopping just shy ofactuallyhaving sex, like a couple of high schoolers instead of actual adults.
It was, quite frankly, ridiculous. And we’d found that out.
Grisha had barely woken when I’d returned to the house. I’d been worried that he might smell the different soap on me, or some lingering scent of Levin’s cologne or sheets, so I’d slipped into the shower at our house and rinsed off again, scrubbing with the same coconut soap I’d used before. He’d stirred a little when I’d slipped back into bed, but there was no real recognition that I was back, and in the morning he’d just asked me how my walk had been. He definitely hadn’t realized how long I’d been gone for.
It had been clear to me, then, that he doesn’t suspect me of anything. That he doesn’t think mecapableof any of this–the subterfuge or sneaking or lying, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved that he hadn’t picked up on it at all, or offended that he doesn’t think I’m smart enough.
For three more days, I keep up the game with Grisha.
I sit at breakfast with him and make small talk, I lay out on the beach and read while he’s at meetings and nap in the afternoons after lunch to make up for the late nights talking and making out with Levin on the beach while Grisha sleeps.
I don’t have sex with Levin again. Ican’t. If I do, I know it will make it so much harder to leave. Every day that passes, I hear his voice in my head when I’d sat up afterward.I feel differently about you. That felt different.
If I didn’talsofeel differently, it wouldn’t matter. But I do. Somehow, Levin has gotten under my skin, and I want him more than I should. Imisshim when he’s gone, which is absolutely ridiculous. And I know that if we end up in bed together again, it will only make it worse.
But by three days in, I can’t bear it any longer.
Going to bed with Grisha, after being with Levin, feels a thousand times worse. I can hardly stand his touch, like ants crawling over my skin, and all I want is for this to be over.
When I see Levin that night, after leaving Grisha sleeping in bed, I can’t keep from breaking down. I try, all through telling him what little I’ve managed to get out of Grisha, relaying his mannerisms and his irritability with all of my questions, to keep myself from saying what I really want to say. But then Levin reaches for me, sitting next to me on the blanket he’d brought down, and I can feel myself falling apart.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I whisper as he leans towards me, and he goes very still, his blue eyes searching mine.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t keep going back and forth between you both.” My heart is pounding in my chest, my throat tight with emotion, because I don’t want to stop. I’ve started to crave Levin, to want the relief of his hands on me, the feeling of his mouth, the pleasure he brings me–and not just that. I want his strength and his careful nature and the way he makes me laugh, the way he’s been kind to me even in the strangest of situations, the way he’s nothing like what I would have expected. I still don’t fully understand who he is or what he does, but I know I want more of him. I don’t want this to be over just yet.
But I truly don’t think I can stand this any longer.
“If you want me to finish this, you have to let me go.” I force the words out, feeling as if I can barely get them past the lump in my throat. “Or you extract me now, and figure something else out. That’s the choice, Levin. That’s what it has to be.”
He looks at me, and I can see an emotion in his eyes that I’ve never seen before, and that I can’t fully put a name to. “Lidiya–”
The way he says my name makes me want to burst into tears. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, telling myself it means nothing, that it’s just because I’m exhausted, I’m stressed, that this is all more than I can stand. That I was never meant for any of this, and that’s why I’m so emotional.
But deep down, I know it’s more than that.
He reaches for me, his hand sliding into my hair, cupping the back of my head. “I can’t lose you,” he whispers. “I can’t stand that. I’ll–”
“What are you going to do?” I swallow hard, trying desperately not to cry. “How are you going to get me out of this? You said youcouldn’t, this whole time–”
“Not in Moscow.” He stands up, pacing a few steps back and forth as I sit there, staring up at him. “We didn’t know enough. But now we could. It will be easier to get Grisha here, in Mexico, than it would have been there.”
Levin pivots suddenly, looking at me as his eyes widen, as if he’s just thought of something. “Can you let me into the house, while Grisha is out at his meetings?” he asks. “So I can look for anything that he’s left? Any papers, anything that might give me information I can use?”
My stomach immediately clenches. “What if he comes home–”
“Has his schedule been pretty regular, since you’ve been here? Meetings and such? Or is it all over the place? It sounded like, from what you told me, that he’s gone for most of the day every day.”
“He is. But one time–”
“I’ll be quick.” Levin looks at me, and I see an earnestness in his face that I’ve never seen before. “This is my job, Lidiya. It’s what I’m good at. And if I can find something that helps–I can get you out of this. I can end it here.”
I’m afraid to hope that might be true. “You’ve never told me what your job is, exactly,” I say softly. “And I still don’t think you’re going to, are you? Not even now, when I’m trusting you so much–”
