by S. C. Daiko
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gazed out the window at fluffy white clouds and the ocean below them. Dad had brought a new cellphone from the States for me and I’d tried to call her a couple of times at her parents’ landline. A snooty-sounding maid had informed me either Miss Abramovich was out, or she was resting. I narrowed my eyes; I’d left a number for her to return my call, but she hadn’t phoned me yet.
With a roll of my shoulders, I knocked back my drink. Cold, crisp, mild hints of sweetness infused with the saltiness of the olive. Just how I liked it. Problem was, I’d wanted to be with Aly when I’d savored this…
I opened the MacBook I always kept on board. Catching up with everything that had happened while I’d been on the island would be one way of passing the flight. A sudden thought occurred to me; Aly had mentioned Facebook. I’d never bothered setting up a profile, but I quickly did so and sent her a friend request.
We were about an hour from landing in Boulder. Helena had served Dad and me breakfast and we’d wolfed down eggs sunny side up, pancakes with bacon and maple syrup washed down with strong black coffee.
I rubbed my belly. “Been dreaming of food like this for months,” I chuckled. “All we had in the mornings was breadfruit.”
Dad swiped his gaze over me from where he was sitting across the aisle. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, son. Alyona has too, I presume?”
“Yeah,” I scrubbed my hand through my hair. “Don’t know if she’s okay…”
“No contact, eh?” Dad’s brows drew together.
I explained how I’d tried to call her without success. She hadn’t responded to my Facebook friend request yet, but I kept that to myself. “Semion hates my guts. Blames me for our castaway status,” I said to Dad. “Aly had a sheltered upbringing. He’ll do everything he can to keep us apart…”
“Been meaning to ask you about her, son. Knowing you like I do… I bloody hope you kept your dick in your pants.”
I squirmed in my seat and pulled at the collar of the shirt I’d bought in Malé. “I love her... and she loves me.”
“I’ll take that as confirmation you had your wicked way with her. Brash as ever,” he sighed. “Are you sure about this? I mean, you can’t have much in common other than being marooned on the island together. She’s so much younger than you.”
“She’s not the spoiled self-entitled mafia princess I thought she was. She’s resourceful and intelligent, but also sweet and innocent.” I blew out a breath. “I promised I’d protect her, but I failed her when that motherfucker showed up.”
Dad fixed me with his dark eyes. “Wanting to protect her isn’t the same as loving her, son.”
“I feel empty without her. She completes me,” I rasped.
Fuck, tears had blocked my throat. Jesus, I never cried. Not even when I found out about Becca and Olivia…
Dad reached across and rubbed my shoulder. “If you truly love her and she loves you, you’ll find a way to be together. Remember when Catrin and I were separated?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I’d kept secrets from Catrin,” he said in a steady tone. “My advice is to be upfront with Alyona. Bare your heart to her. If you are soulmates, your connection will be unbreakable.”
“Hope so,” I gritted out, fastening my seatbelt and staring out the window at the mountain backdrop behind Boulder as we descended toward the airport runway. I sank in my seat. The browns and greens of the scenery jarred my eyes after the blue of the ocean and pearly white sand on the island.
Dad drove west into the mountains after we’d picked up his SUV from the airport parking lot. After about an hour, we pulled up in front of the log-cabin style house where I’d lived from the age of five until I left for college. I glanced around. Nothing had changed. The small lake where I’d learned to fish, and the aspen-covered hills brought back so many memories. I barely had time to draw breath when a bunch of people tumbled out the front door onto the driveway.
Jesus, Becca is here with Olivia.
My heart juddered in my chest.
Catrin threw her arms around me. “I’m so freaking relieved to have you home at last,” she lilted in her Welsh accent. “How’s your poor leg?”
“It’s fine,” I smiled, leaning on my crutch.
She dragged me inside and sat me down on the sofa, propping my foot up on a stool. I stared at the familiar faces. Uncle Gleb and his wife, Eva. Andrei, Becca and Olivia. Some family members were missing— my youngest bro’ was at Harvard, my sister Lidiya lived in California with her husband, and my cousins, Gleb’s kids, were either at school or doing internships— but I didn’t mind. It was fucking crowded enough in here, and I hated crowds.
They were all gaping at me like they expected me to pull a rabbit out of a hat.
“Please, no questions now,” I held up my hands. “I’ll tell you everything in good time.” I smirked. “I’m just happy to be with you all again.”
“Not a problem,” Becca flashed me the smile that used to melt my heart. “I’ll give you the third degree later on.”
Relief flooded through me. I could look at her and Olivia together and there was no longer any pain.
I’d gotten over pining for her.
Aly had healed me.
How I’m longing to hold her in my arms…
“We’re having a cook-out down by the lake,” Andrei announced. “Uncle Gleb and I are grilling hotdogs and hamburgers.”
My mouth literally watered. “Haven’t had one of those in a while,” I cracked a smile.
He fired questions despite my earlier demand, and I told my family how I’d taught myself to fish with a spear and about our subsistence diet.
“You need fattening up,” Catrin’s green eyes shone with determination. Her blonde hair was streaked with silver, but she was still the wonderful woman who had been there for me most of my life. “Everyone go out onto the decking while I finish making salads in the kitchen.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Olivia said, falling into step behind her.
“Me too,” Eva added.
The rest of us trooped outside. Dad went to help Uncle Gleb and Andrei, and Becca came to stand next to me.
“Remember when Olivia used to come over from England every summer?” Becca nudged my elbow.
“Yeah,” I put my arm around her and gave her a hug. “Were you two together back then?”
“We’ve always loved each other,” she said. “But it wasn’t until we were roomies in New York that we could show it, if you know what I mean…”
I gazed into her sky-blue eyes and tilted her chin up to brush a kiss to her button nose. “I’m in love with Alyona Abramovich, so, yeah, I do know what you mean.”
And I did. Before Aly, I’d always thought of love in terms of possession. But now, all I wanted was for Aly to be happy. If being with me brought her happiness, I’d move Heaven and earth to make that happen. And, if it didn’t, I was fucking fucked.
Becca’s smile would light the world. “I was worried you’d never meet the right girl, but I can see by the look in your eyes that you have.”
“Just hope she feels the same,” I muttered.
“Oh, God,” Becca clapped a hand to her mouth. “I thought the feeling was mutual?!”
“It was on the island.” I bounced my gaze across the lake before turning it back to Becca. “We lived in a bubble. Met each other’s needs.” I paused, weighed my words. “I know I love her, but I’m older and have more experience. Aly is quite naïve. Enchantingly so. But what if, now she’s home, she realizes it was all a mistake?”
Becca took a step back. “You are a good man, Ben, despite your brash exterior. If you’ve fallen for Aly, then what you have between you has to be real. You wouldn’t love her otherwise. I’m sure of it.”
“I can’t get hold of her,” I groaned before telling Becca how I’d been blocked at every turn.
She stroked my arm. “If there’s anything I can do to help…”
&nbs
p; “Thanks, sis,” I squeezed her fingers. “I might just take you up on that.”
“Hey, you two,” a shout came from down by the lake. “Food’s ready.”
Laughing, we went down to join our family. I was swept up by them and the sensation of being a part of the close-knit unit should have dispelled the restlessness that had assailed me since Aly and I had been separated; but it didn’t. Toward the end of the afternoon, I informed them I’d be flying back to New York with Andrei first thing tomorrow. No arguments. To be fair, they didn’t protest much. Word had gotten out about my predicament, I guessed.
Pleading jetlag, I went up to my room for a nap. My laptop was poking out of the top of my backpack. I reached for it, flipped it open, and checked my newly set-up Facebook account.
I let out a whoop, and a rush of adrenaline spiked my blood.
Aly had accepted my friendship request.
Chapter Eighty
Alyona— earlier that day
I was missing Ben so much there was a constant lump of unshed tears in my throat. I missed being held by him, I missed our conversations, I missed him having my back and I missed having his back. I knew we’d only started growing close two months ago, but the fact we hadn’t spent a minute apart during that time had made the wrench of separation a zillion times worse.
This morning, Mom took me to her salon where my hair was conditioned and trimmed. It felt strange when I touched it afterward to encounter silky smoothness instead of a brittle bird’s nest. I wondered what Ben would say when he saw it, if he would prefer it to what he called my ‘Ursula Andress look.’ I’d never seen the Bond movie but had been flattered when he’d compared me to the actress, especially after I’d looked her up online.
Mom and I had just returned to my parents’ Brooklyn condo, and were sitting sipping coffee in the living room under a multi-tiered chandelier. I gazed at the opulent décor— the lavish gold finishes on the furniture, the plush textiles.
So not me.
“I’d like to move into my own place, Mom,” I came right out with it.
She let out a gasp and threw up her hands. “Your father will never allow it.”
I put down my coffee cup and grabbed her by the shoulders, locking my eyes with hers. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll be twenty-three soon,” my voice shook. “You and Papa still treat me like a child. It’s my bad for living in your gilded cage for so long, but now I need to break free and spread my wings.”
“And do what?” Her cheeks had reddened. “Your father and I were hoping you’d settle down and marry Pasha. His parents are in favor of the match. And he’s always loved you…”
“He’s never told me that,” I said through gritted teeth. “All he does is hang around like a starving dog hoping for crumbs.” I twisted my fingers together. “Sorry if I sound mean, but Pasha is a trust fund kid with no job. He passes his days sailing on that yacht of his or spending his family’s money.”
“You have a trust fund too,” Mom muttered.
“As does Valentin.” I left unsaid the fact that my brother worked at the hospital. Mom got the message.
“I’m building my career as a photographer,” I reminded her. “Thank God I saved online the pictures I took of the All Seasons Resort. I’ll add them to my portfolio and, as soon as the new camera I ordered arrives, I’ll get back to work.”
She blew out a sigh. “If you married Pasha, you’d soon have children. They would become your life— you wouldn’t need a hobby taking photos.”
I tapped my foot. “One, it’s not a hobby it’s my career. And, two, the only reason Papa wants me to marry Pasha is so he can carry on monitoring me through the mafia brotherhood. I love Papa, but he’s a control freak.” I paused, took in a deep breath.
“Alyona, we raised you to make a good marriage.” Tears filled Mom’s eyes. “How can you disappoint us like this?”
Oh, great, now she’s using emotional blackmail.
I leaned into her, deciding to play my trump card. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”
She opened and closed her mouth. “Just give me time to digest this.” She pecked me on the cheek. “Let’s not tell Papa just yet…”
Mom’s scared of his reaction, but I’m not.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I said, determination in my tone. “In the meantime, I’ll start looking for an apartment. Nothing too swanky. Since being on the island, I prefer the simple things in life.”
“That damn island,” she grimaced. “I wish you’d never been marooned there. It changed you, Alyona. You’re no longer our little girl.”
I almost punched the air, but I restrained myself instead. Mom had started to realize I’d changed.
If only Papa would come to the same conclusion…
Later, after a light lunch, I went to my room and flipped open my laptop. Out of habit, I logged onto Facebook. For weeks, I’d wanted to connect with my friends, but yesterday I’d been so caught up with homecoming shit that I hadn’t bothered.
I checked my notifications, which were all about the news of my rescue. Links to bulletins and even some YouTube videos recorded from the television. I scrolled down, ‘liked’ my friends’ posts, and commented I was fine. I clicked on a few of the links and shuddered; the pictures of my arrival at the airport showed my gaunt frame and disheveled hair.
Ben’s wild woman.
Almost as an afterthought, I glanced at the friend requests icon and noticed a red circle with a white ‘one’ in the middle. I clicked on it and let out a gasp. “Ben!” My pulse skyrocketing, I quickly accepted, then looked to see if he’d logged on. Dammit, he wasn’t online. Was he still in the Maldives? If so, it would be nighttime there and maybe he was already asleep.
I tried to distract myself by looking at realtors’ websites. But I couldn’t help checking my Facebook page every now and then in the hope he’d suddenly appear.
Emma called and we chatted for a short while. I told her about my conversation with Mom. “Good luck with your dad,” she said, and I heard the doubt in her voice.
“Wish my mother was like your stepmom,” I said wistfully. Zoe had fought in Emma’s corner right from the start. It was thanks to her my bestie had achieved independence.
We talked a little more. The American Ballet Theatre would be on tour in Colorado for the Vail Dance Festival next week and she was pumped to have been given the role of one of the princesses in Swan Lake.
“Have you made that appointment with your OB-GYN yet?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Not yet. Thanks for reminding me…”
We ended the call with promises to speak again tomorrow, and, unexpectedly tired, I stretched out on my bed.
I lay drifting in and out of sleep, fighting jetlag but on the point of losing the fight, when the ringtone on my phone chimed. Bleary-eyed, I stared at the screen.
Oh. My. God.
Ben!!!
I pressed answer. “Hey, what took you so long?”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days.” He went on to tell me how many times he’d spoken with Mom’s maid. “Thank God for Facebook messenger’s call button.”
My hands trembled. “I’m so sorry. I guess my parents told her to keep you from me.”
“Think you’ve guessed right,” he said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. It’s awesome to hear your voice. Where are you? How’s your leg?”
He said his leg was getting better and that he was at his dad’s place in Colorado but would be flying to New York tomorrow. “I can’t wait to see you, babe.” A pause. “Is that gonna be a problem?”
“Only for the short term,” I said before letting him know about my plan to get my own place.
“Don’t think I can wait that long,” he groaned. “I’m missing you.”
My heart skittered at his words. “I miss you too, honey. Everything is so weird without you.”
“I love you,” he rasped. “Need you so fucking much.�
��
My stomach fluttered. “And me, you. I can’t stop thinking about you, longing for you. Except…”
“Except, what?” I discerned the gruffness in his voice.
“What if it wasn’t real? I mean, we went through some crazy shit on the island…”
“Are you having second thoughts?” He spat out the words.
“No, never… I was just worried you might not love me the same now that we are back to normality.”
“Listen, Aly. As Shakespeare once said, love is not love if it alters when it finds change. What I feel for you is deep within me.”
How I wanted to bury myself in his strong chest, lose myself in his powerful presence, kiss him until my lips turned numb.
“Being so far away from you has been hell,” I whispered. “I’m gonna speak to my father as soon as he gets home from work. Tell him I’ll move out asap.”
“Atta girl,” he laughed, and the sound rang in my soul. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m back in New York. Can’t wait.”
“Me neither,” I sighed.
We were interrupted by a knock at my door. “Alyona,” Mom called out. “Your father is home, and he wants to see you.”
I said goodbye to Ben and swung my legs off the bed. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Mom,” I responded before checking my appearance in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself.
My battle with Papa would be tough, but I had his genes in me and knew how to set someone straight.
Chapter Eighty-One
Alyona
Papa was in his study, staring at a bunch of papers in his hand. He motioned for me to take a seat, which I did on the opposite side of the desk to him. “What are you reading?” I asked.
