Crossroads

by Blake Haugen

“No they don’t! Not everyone. I don’t cheat.”

  “That’s only because you’ve never been in a real relationship. What? You think our parents knew each other that long and didn’t have sex with anyone else?”

  “My parents didn’t,” Vanya chimed in.

  “Yeah,” Yulian shot back at his brother. He was more certain now that he had Vanya’s comment to back him up. “I remember Papa was really fucking sad when Mama died. He wouldn’t cheat on her.”

  “Alright, Yuli,” Mikhail agreed with a sardonic smile, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

  “I am!” Yulian retorted, turning to Max for more support, “What do you think?”

  “I don’t really have parents,” Max stated simply.

  “Oh, yeah, shit. I forgot. I’m sorry.” Yulian frowned with chagrin. In his drunkenness, he was unable to hide his feelings. It was apparent that he truly felt ashamed for bringing up Max’s orphan status.

  “I think I’ll be alright,” Max replied with a grin. Although Max just shrugged it off, Yulian had enough tact to shift the conversation.

  “How do you even do it, Vanya?”

  “Do what?”

  “Court a lady?”

  “What?!” Vanya burst out in a fit of laughter with the others.

  “Shut up! You know what I mean! Like, woo her and shit. Make her like only you. Stay faithful to her and fall in love and crap.”

  “You sound like you have someone in mind, Yuli,” Vanya teased him.

  “Maybe; but what about you? How are you so stuck on this one chick? And vice versa?”

  Vanya sighed, thinking of a way to answer how he felt for Persephone or what made faithfulness to her easy. Before he met her, he hadn’t been as much of a dog as the twins, however, he was no saint like Max. He wasn’t sure what it was that made falling in love with Persephone so easy. He had been lonely and weary of his life, which upset him because he had so much and was relatively young. He recalled once thinking if things are this trivial this far in the game, then what’s the point? Before Persephone, no person had ever made him feel better about that. She had just sat down beside him one day in class, treated him kindly, and he was completely gone.

  “It just happened,” he finally said.

  “That’s it? ‘It just happened.’ That’s all?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s the way it is; it’s the way we want it.”

  “Hmph,” Yulian harrumphed. He frowned pensively and sat back in his chair, finally giving the subject a rest.

  There was silence in the car until they pulled up to Copper. Max let them out while he parked. Vanya and the twins made their way to the bar upon entry. He was relieved to see the crowd was large but not overwhelming. Most patrons were listening to the Latin jazz guitarist on stage while sipping their beverages. Hopefully, no one would bother them while he drowned himself in vodka.

  He had the same boring feeling he’d had when he’d visited the venue months ago when Dunya had come onto him. He was unmoved by her overtures and could only think of being in bed with Persephone. If he remembered correctly, he had spent the night at his family home jerking off to images of the woman that would soon be his. The funny thing was he felt much the same way now.

  Unfortunately, it seemed the fates had denied Vanya’s pleas for peace. Dunya, the sultry and vexing club manager, sauntered their way behind the bar. Vanya tried to ignore her stare.

  “Vanya, you look so handsome this evening. It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face in here. What’ll you have? Your regular vodka?”

  “No, a whiskey sour, please,” Vanya answered her immediately. He suddenly hated the fact that Dunya knew anything about him.

  “That’s new. I’ve been hearing a lot of new things about you.”

  “None of which are your concern I’m sure,” Vanya replied with a bored expression. When Dunya gave him a dry look, he simply rotated his wrist, indicating that she should carry on making his drink.

  “Make me one, too, eh?” Mikhail grinned, raising his hand.

  “Shouldn’t you be lounging in the private room with one of the waitresses?” Dunya replied. She didn’t raise her head to face him as she worked diligently on Vanya’s whiskey sour.

  “Shouldn’t you be somewhere on your back?” Mikhail asked sweetly while tilting his head to the side.

  Dunya’s wild green eyes flashed at Mikhail and for a few moments Vanya was afraid she was going to throw the drink she prepared in Mikhail’s face. She and Mikhail had never gotten along, mostly because of his derision of her former profession and his tendency to seduce her best waitresses. Catfights were no good for business. Instead of tossing the whiskey sour in Mikhail’s face, she daintily set it in front of Vanya on a black cloth napkin. She sauntered away as silkily as she had come and sent a bar girl to wait on them in her stead.

  “Damn, Mishka, you didn’t have to be so mean,” Yulian said, straightening his tie and standing. “Maybe I should go console her. Avdotya, come back!”

  Before he could get two steps in Dunya’s direction, Vanya frogged his arm. Yulian screeched, drawing a few stares, and threw his hands up as if to ask ‘what the hell?’

  “You just asked me for advice on courting. Here is my advice – don’t screw other chicks – especially her!”

  “I haven’t even started talking to her yet! She’s not gonna care who I fucked before her; that’s not fair!”

  “Listen, I know who you’re talking about, and I swear to all that is holy she would hold that against you.”

  “You do not know! You don’t even know her!” Yulian rebutted defensively.

  “Who?” Mikhail asked, drawn from his stare in Dunya’s direction.

  “No one!”

  “Oh, please, Yuli,” Vanya rolled his eyes, “We all know her for chrissakes!”

  “Know who?” Max asked, coming up to the trio.

  “Yulian has a thing for Sophie,” Vanya answered nonchalantly.

  Yulian’s eyes bulged in embarrassment and Mikhail coughed a little into his whiskey sour trying not to laugh. Max blushed a little; something Vanya had never seen him do. It was a strange thing to see on the face of someone rumored to be an efficient killer. Yulian slumped in his chair and waved for the bartender.

  “Ugh, why’d you have to out me like that, man?” he mumbled and rested his head in his hands.

  “Listen, I just did you a favor. If you’re serious about her, which I doubt you are, then you’ve got to stay on the straight and narrow. You’ve already got your entire romantic history stacked against you.”

  “Yeah,” Mikhail chimed in, clasping his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve still got to get Sophie to get over the fact that you messed around with Eva. Nobody wants their older sibling’s sloppy seconds… except you, that is. You don’t seem to mind so much.”

  “You’re only twelve minutes older,” Yulian slurred, scrunching his eyebrows.

  “That’s your only problem with that statement?!” Max exclaimed.

  “It was just sex!” Yulian protested. “It didn’t mean anything. I don’t see why it’s such a big thing to get worked up about.”

  “Then you, my friend, are fucked, for lack of a better word,” Mikhail laughed again. “I promise you she doesn’t feel that way.”

  “I know. I can get sex anywhere, but I can only get Sophie from Sophie.” Yulian took his vodka down in one swig and loudly tapped his glass on the bar to indicate he wanted another round. Vanya was sure the bartender was only patient with his histrionics because he was a Pravdin. Otherwise, she would have refused to serve him or would have had him thrown out.

  “Look, I think Dunya had it right. Maybe we should take it to a private room, Yuli. I think you’re bad for business. And I think I’m going to call it a night.” Vanya noticed that they were receiving more and more stares as Yulian went on about why women shouldn’t trained to be so sanctimonious about intercourse.

  “You’re bailing?!” Mikhail questioned as he pulled Yul
ian up from his barstool.

  “Yeah, my heart’s not in it tonight. Besides, I’m driving back to school really early tomorrow morning. Have Max take Yuli home if you don’t want to watch over Mr. Women’s Sexual Liberty over here.”

  “Nah, we’ll be alright.” Mikhail waved him off and pushed his brother ahead of him toward a private lounge.

  “Shall we?” Max suggested pointing toward the door. It was certain he wanted to leave now that it was clear he had accepted a date from one of his employers’ love interests. Vanya followed him outside and waited for him to pull the car around. Thankfully, the trip to his condo was short and Max didn’t want to engage him about Persephone or any other topics from earlier in the evening.

  As Vanya undressed after he reached his bedroom, he decided that it was complete bullshit that Persephone had avoided him yesterday. What had he done besides tell her how much she meant to him and showed her that he wanted to be with her in spite of his father’s objections? While Persephone was no ordinary woman, he was sure most ladies appreciated that kind of commitment.

  The more he thought about it the more upset he got. Did she do this on purpose? To hurt him? It was strange to admit that someone had the power to hurt him. It made him feel weak and angry. His room felt stuffy even though the air conditioning was blasting. The scent of Persephone was fresh on the comforter and some of his pillows due to their New Year’s tryst and he was beyond frustrated.

  He lay there, nude and hard, wondering what she was doing right now. It was one o’clock in the morning. It was doubtful she was sleeping. She hated studying at night though. That meant she was probably surfing the Internet for interesting news articles. He turned over and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Before he could stop, himself he sent her a text.

  R u awake

  The twenty seconds he waited for a response seemed like forever.

  Yeah; what are you doing up?

  Just got back from the bar Im coming home early 2morrow morning

  Great! Be safe driving back. <3

  I want u to come over after u go to mass Please

  Alrighty.

  Somehow, ‘alrighty’ wasn’t enough for Vanya. He knew it was a text, but it seemed so… blasé. He decided he wasn’t going to stand for another day like yesterday. He was returning to campus and he was going to figure out what the hell was going on in her head.

  Promise me

  There was another long pause in messaging but she finally answered.

  I promise.

  Vanya put the phone down. He was going to take a cold shower, get a few hours of sleep, and then drive back to campus. They were settling this as soon as possible.

  ☐

  Persephone always dressed up for Mass. Since her parents’ death, she’d made a point of attending regularly. Her attendance began mostly as a way to pay homage to her mother, Cynthia, a devout Catholic. Going to Mass had also been a way to maintain her identity while living with the Bensons. As time passed she began to go for her own reasons. This Sunday, she dressed in a particularly sharp manner – she knew she had someone special to visit after church ended.

  At first glance, the long sleeved royal blue dress she wore seemed typical. Upon closer inspection, the garment’s brilliance was revealed. Small shoulder pads squared her shoulders, the hem sat above her knees, and the spongy stretch wool fabric was embossed with trompe-l'œil leaves. The dress molded to Persephone’s body, simultaneously covering and revealing her curves; it hovered over the line that separated her from indecency. Her long brown tweed coat was also tailored to accentuate her hourglass figure and fell to her shins.

  Her only accessories were red lips, red nails, and a black ribbon necklace with a square chain link design. The piece’s polished pewter was adorned with various colored cabochon crystals. Vanya had bought the jewelry in Texas and gifted it to Persephone to remind her of the trip that had cemented their connection. She wore tall clunky black pumps for his benefit as well. The only style compromise was her pair of short silky black socks. Her toes needed additional protection from the chill.

  At first, biking in heels was tricky. For some reason, she was nervous and it was affecting her balance. She finally figured it out when she reached Vanya’s building entrance. After taking a deep breath she primped her bobbed hair and pushed the call button. Having already confirmed her arrival via text she waited patiently until he buzzed her up.

  Persephone entered Vanya’s apartment after seeing the door was ajar. Vanya was out of sight and her plan to seductively shrug off her coat in his presence was foiled. Remembering his love of order she laid down her quilted black leather handbag on the side table by the door and hung the coat on the rack. Vanya liked all shoes to be lined up at the door, but she left her pumps on anyway. He’d make an exception once he saw how lithe they made her legs look. Persephone called out to him when he failed to appear.

  “Allo, c’est moi!”

  “Why didn’t you use your key?” his voice rang from the kitchen. Persephone turned the corner to find Vanya standing in front of the open refrigerator in gray briefs. She inhaled slowly as she perused the muscles of his back, ass, and legs.

  “Umm, I knew you were here and I didn’t want to just waltz in.”

  “It’s okay; that’s why I gave it to you. I was sleeping.” His voice was even and he had yet to turn around and face her.

  “I’m sorry. Just bein’ polite. Blame Southern hospitality.”

  “Don’t apologize, babe,” he huffed, “You want something to drink?”

  “No.”

  When she shifted, her heels clicked on the dark laminate hardwood floor. At the sound, Vanya finally turned to her with a vexed look. His face changed instantly upon taking Persephone’s appearance in. He looked her up and down without shame and she was pleased with his lust and growing arousal.

  “You look beautiful, sweetpea. Truly, really beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Persephone replied shyly. She looked down and twiddled her thumbs. Vanya’s compliment wasn’t unexpected, but it still made her heart race. She licked her lips and smiled in anticipation of his advance.

  Vanya stepped from the refrigerator door and leered for a moment more. She thought he would take her in his arms, but he suddenly stopped as if remembering something. He returned to the open refrigerator door and looked at its shelf, giving her his back again.

  “You hungry? Want something to eat? I can make you a sandwich,” he asked, back to his even tone.

  Persephone scrunched her face in confusion and wrapped her arms around her torso. This wasn’t how their interaction was supposed to go. It was clear he wanted her; it wasn’t clear why he made no move.

  “Uh, no, not really. I had breakfast.”

  “Good. Take a nap with me? I’m still tired from driving back,” he murmured and closed the fridge.

  “Of course.”

  Persephone let him lead her to his room by hand. Vanya flipped off the lights as they passed through the dining room and short hallway. When she began kicking off her heels in the bedroom, he used a gentle hand on her elbow to steady and halt her movements.

  “Let me help you,” Vanya whispered. He moved behind her, pulled off her second shoe, and set the pair next to his slippers by the door. Without the pumps, Persephone fell four more inches below him to her natural five foot two. He briefly laid his large palms on her scapula before pulling down the dress’ exposed zipper. He then gently slid the sleeves off her shoulders, let her step out of the dress, and indicated that she stay put while he hung it in the closet.

  When he finished he moved behind her once again, this time grazing her neck with his fingertips. He carefully untied the necklaces’ black ribbons and placed it on the dresser neatly. “Underwear or no underwear?”

  Persephone felt his fingers resting on the back of her lacey lavender bra strap. She’d grown more feverish as he undressed her and longed for more contact. “None,” she decided eagerly.

  With her answer the
strap was unlatched and she shrugged off her bra, exposing her hard nipples to the open air. Vanya’s hands skimmed down her back and pulled down the matching boy shorts. He stepped away and she heard him remove his briefs and drop their undergarments in his canvas lined wicker hamper. Vanya pulled back the comforter on her side of the bed and motioned for her to hop in.

  He climbed in over her and pulled her to his body. It was a loose hold with one arm draping her hip and the other laying above her head. Persephone pressed her backside into his now full erection. She waited patiently for him to push back.

  After a few moments, she felt nothing and turned to face him. Vanya’s face was angelic as always. He opened his eyes, gave her a half smile and then shifted in the bed. When he closed his eyes again, she caressed his bicep and placed a short, sweet kiss on his cheek. The action garnered no reaction. Persistent, she pressed her lips to his, snaked her hand down to his crotch, and stroked him rhythmically.

  Vanya returned her kisses at last, granting her tongue access to his open mouth. Relief came over Persephone as he put his fingers in her hair. However, she soon felt bereft when he pulled away and halted her pursuit by firmly holding her roaming hands.

  “Later, sweetpea,” he breathed into her hair. He punctuated the statement with a kiss on her widow’s peak. Persephone was dismayed when he turned her back around, pulled her closer, and rested his chin on her head.

  Her heart rate felt as if it had doubled. What the hell? This wasn’t how she envisioned their reunion from a two-day hiatus. She suddenly felt like a fool. She’d come to his apartment overdressed and blushing like a schoolgirl, so sure he’d like what he saw. Persephone analyzed her entry and realized Vanya was already aroused before she arrived. When had he ever been too tired for sex when he drove back from the city? Never.

  The steady breathing of Vanya’s slumber interrupted her thoughts. Persephone fought not to wiggle around and disturb him. He’d already expressed a little annoyance at her disruption of his nap when she rang the buzzer. Her mind raced for over an hour trying to understand the break in their sexual routine. Eventually, lying still got the better of her and she fell into a fitful sleep only to wake thirty minutes later.