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How do I know he won’t do the same again?
The days we’ve spent together have been good, yes, but that’s not necessarily any indication. A good scene or a good lesson would easily be followed by a cold distance during the summer. The pulling away part never happened when we were together. We’d part ways on good terms, and the next time I’d see him, there’d be this gaping hole between us—without any indication leading up to.
Who’s to say he won’t come back on Saturday and be cold and distant? Who’s to say he won’t change his mind while we’re apart and not come back at all?
All these worries are spiraling out of control whenI go to bed on Thursday night, making sleep impossible. Grigory sits against the headboard, reading, as I try my best not to toss and turn beside him.
“What’s the matter,devochka?” he asks when I don’t succeed.
“Sorry,” I say, “it’s just one of those nights.” A knot forms at the back of my throat. This is not one of those nights where sleep eludes me for no apparent reason. I know why I’m restless tonight, but I can’t tell him.
I can’t tell him that I’m afraid he won’t come back. I can’t tell him that I don’t trust him to keep his promise.
Grigory puts away his book and slips under the comforter behind me. Folding an arm around me, he pulls me into him. “Deep breaths,devochka.”
Aren’t I already breathing calmly?
I inhale and realize the air only reaches the top of my lungs, and suddenly my chest is tight.
“Shh, I’m here,” he soothes, and those words do me in.
He might be here now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be here Saturday like he’s supposed to.
I break into tears as the powerlessness of the summer washes over me anew.
“I’ll be back Saturday,” he promises, easily deciphering my distress. “You don’t have to worry. I want to be with you,devochka.That won’t change.”
He says the last words with a fervor so sincere it shouldn’t be possible to doubt him. Yet I do. But saying it out loud is too vulnerable. I need to protect myself in case heleavesme again. So I cling to him as I cry, hoping to God this won’t be the last night I sleep in his arms.
***
Grigory leaves before the first light of day peeks through the cracks around my curtains. A heavy weight of dread is lodged in my chest, and when he comes in to say goodbye after his morning shower, I clasp an anxious hand around his arm.
“Are you coming back?” I ask, too tired to hide my fear.
“Of course I am.” He sinks to his haunches and trails his fingers along my hairline. “Tomorrow, at noon, I’ll be back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Devochka.” His gaze fills with sincerity. “I’m in this now. I’m not leaving until either you or Markus tells me to. Okay?”
I watch him for a while, searching for a flicker of uncertainty but never finding it. So I nod. “Okay.”
“Get some sleep.” He presses a tender kiss to my forehead and gets up. Two minutes later, the sound of the front door announces that he’s gone.
I lie there for two hours, trying to fall asleep again without success, and even as I start my day, I can’t seem to find much rest.
I try to play the piano and read the texts for next week, but my focus is scattered. Halfway through the day, I’m so exhausted I have to give up. I’ve only played for forty-five minutes, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to make the four hours Grigory has prescribed.
Hoping Markus can get my mind back on track, I call him.
“How are you holding up, sweetie? Grigory told me you weren’t feeling all that well when he left.”
God, is there anything these two men don’t discuss?
“Erm, I’m okay,” I say, then correct myself. “Well, mostly.”
“You know, Grigorywillcome back. I know you have a hard time trusting him, but he just needed to figure out whether he wanted this. It was difficult for him to open up to a new sub, but he’s in it now. Remember what I told you. Once Grigory commits to something, he’s not one to step back.”
