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6
Lola
Tension coils in my chest upon the realization that steering us off course is potentially going to get everyone on this train killed. I don’t know who the Italians are, but if they’re anything like Jasha and his goons, then I’m in trouble.
Serious trouble.
I glance over at Jasha, torn between admitting what I did and keeping it a secret. He’s going to find out that we’re off course eventually, and it’s going to piss him off, but if he finds out now, I might be able to twist it in my favor.
Like it was an accident. A simple mistake.
Anyone who knows anything about trains would know that something so severe couldn’t possibly be a mistake, but Jasha already admitted that he knew nothing. If I sound convincing, he’ll have no choice but to believe me.
But how would I bring it up?
Oh, hey, that tree over there doesn’t look familiar. Maybe we’ve taken a wrong turn?
That sounds stupid because it is stupid. I have to make it more convincing, but how?
A thick cluster of trees rushes past the window, and the sky darkens into a royal purple hue. With night fast approaching, it’s going to be difficult to put this train on a different route without disrupting the flow of overnight passenger trains that run in this same direction.
I should tell him, but that’s not going to be easy. I don’t want him blowing up on me. I still don’t know what he’s capable of. He could easily overpower me, and I have no way of defending myself if things turn sour.
Then again, if he really wanted to harm me, he would’ve done it already. I’m carrying his baby, and I’m sure that he feelssomethingbecause of that, even if he tries to hide it.
I look at Jasha again, studying his attractive features and wondering how a man so handsome can be so evil. If he would’ve chosen a nobler path, maybe a lawyer or a doctor, I would’ve fallen for him so quickly that he’d have to scrape my trembling body off the pavement.
But he’s not like that. He’s been twisted by evil forces, and that’s made him into the man he is today. I knew it before, when I met him at the orchard, but I was in denial because I was enjoying the feeling of letting go and indulging in a cheap thrill.
Back then, I wanted his hands all over me, and I didn’t care about the consequences. It was stupid, of course, but I let it happen because I was stressed out and lonely.
I do wonder what would’ve happened if we hadn’t had sex. I wouldn’t be pregnant, so would he have kicked me off the train when he took over? Or would he have killed me?
I’d like to imagine he wouldn’t be so cruel, but nothing is guaranteed after I learned he’d already killed a man. I’m sure he’s killed many more, so I’m not safe. The only thing keeping me from befalling a similar fate is the baby in my belly.
Hisbaby, the one he barely acknowledges.
I place my hand on my belly, feeling the warmth my pregnancy exudes. I remember when I first found out, the weird feelings I’d have in the morning, the hunger and the random urges to use the bathroom.
I thought I was sick, so I went to the doctor, only to be told that it wasn’t a virus that had overtaken my organism, but something much more draining and dangerous — a baby.
I remember laughing when I heard the news, thinking it was some kind of joke, but when the doctor smiled and showed me the tests, I realized that it wasn’t a joke. It was real, and I was pregnant with Jasha’s baby.
I knew instantly that it belonged to him. I hadn’t been with anyone else since that fateful night, and I always used condoms in the past. One chance encounter had changed everything for me, and it took me several weeks to come to terms with the pregnancy and decide what I was going to do.
For me, abortion was out of the question. Life like this was a blessing, and I wanted to savor this gift even though it came in the shape, color, and size of a curse. I had created life, and I wasn’t about to deny my baby its fair chance in this world.
So, I continued my job, tucking money away into a savings account and living on as little as possible as I prepared to take on the challenge of being a single mother. I tried to get in touch with Jasha, but every phone call was a failure, and there was no way for me to locate him otherwise.
No social media, no address… nothing.
So, I gave up.
But just as I did, he came back into my life in a way I never expected, and now he’s sitting across from me, staring at the wall and pretending I don’t even exist.
Part of me hates him. It’s a large part, but it’s not the entirety of my feelings. There’s another part, a very small one, that believes that Jasha could rise up to the role of fatherhood and we could reconcile the differences between us.
It’s so small, almost microscopic, but it’s real and it’s there, and it’s the only hope that I have. Everything else leads to misery.
