When I've snooped in all the bags, I open his wardrobe, curious about what lies inside. A few more clothes than the last time I'd been in here, but other than that...
I still, blinking repeatedly as if I can't quite believe what I'm seeing. Taking a few steps, I reach the back of the wardrobe, coming face to face with a human-sized teddy bear. In fact, it's practically the same height I am.
It can't be...
Blue with a pink ribbon, the bear looks eerily like the one I'd seen months back, during my first visit at a shopping center. It had stayed with me because I'd never seen such a big toy before, and it was blue—my favorite color. The pink ribbon had only made it more endearing and I remember spending some time just admiring it, barely working up the courage to touch it.
It had reminded me of everything I'd ever wanted growing up, but never received—most of all, it had reminded me of comfort.
I don't know why. Maybe it was the hue of the blue, or the softness of the material, but for a brief moment I'd wanted it more than anything. Of course, I hadn't gone through with buying it, since why would a grown woman need a bear?
But to see it here...
My gaze strays even lower, and I recognize the teddy bear I'd ripped in front of Vlad the other day. This one, a different shade of blue, is only slightly bigger than my hand.
I frown, suddenly realizing something. All the bears had been blue, or at least a shade of blue.
Picking it up, I almost feel bad for committing bearcide, but as I pat him over trying to locate the tear I'd caused, I realize there's none.
Instead, there's a black, ugly jagged line starting from the bottom of the bear and going up to its neck—holding the seams together.
He didn't...
I don't know why this of all things makes my eyes burn with unshed tears, but as I rummage more through the back of the closet, I find a small sewing kit.
He did.
And I'm suddenly more confused than ever.
Why would someone who has no feelings care about something as trite as this?
"What the..." I can't help but stare at the small bear, and the poor yet endearing attempt to put it back together.
Why would someone who kills people in cold blood care about a stupid teddy bear?
Numbly walking back into the room, I'm still holding on to the bear, my thoughts a big, jumbled mess.
Now, more than ever, I can't seem to get any proper read on Vlad.
There's so much contradicting information that I don't know what to believe anymore. He's putting too much effort into this for someone who supposedly doesn't care.
My treacherous heart hones in on that thought, and I cannot stop myself from hoping.
I need to get to the bottom of this... before I get my heart broken again.
My mind made up, I decide to wait and confront him. After all, it's the only thing I can do that will ensure I'm not simply building scenarios in my head.
Because I've learned already that misplaced hope hurts the most. And I don't want to fall prey to it again.
I decide to wait around until he comes home, alternating between snooping some more and rolling around in his big bed, unashamedly inhaling the scent off his sheets.
A small nap and a lot of boredom later, it's already night. I'm very close to giving up when the door to the room swings open, Vlad coming in.
He doesn't even notice me at first, intent on taking his clothes off.
"Fuck, you startled me." He says when I turn on the lamp on his desk, raising an eyebrow at him. Slowly getting up, I place myself in front of him, not willing to give him any opening to avoid me this time.
"We need to talk," I say.
"We do?" He asks, confused.
"Yes," I confirm, crossing my arms in front of me. "You need to stop avoiding me," I go straight to the chase.
"I'm not avoiding you," he immediately starts denying it, but I won't have it. Instead, I place my finger on his lips, enjoying the way his eyes widen—especially now that the roles are reversed for the first time.
"Yes, you are. And you need to stop taking advice from the internet. I doubt they know what they're saying," I continue.
"Wh..." he tries to speak, but I shake my head at him, not done.
"No more games, Vlad. Let's put our cards on the table for once and for all."
His hand comes up, capturing my wrist as he brings it to his lips, his tongue peeking out to lick the sensitive area. My pulse quickens, but I refuse to let myself be seduced.
"Vlad," I push my chin up, my eyes challenging him to take me seriously.
"You snooped," is all he says, his eyes holding me captive with their intensity. There's no condemnation in his gaze, no hint that he's mad at my snooping. So I just nod.
"You're going about this all wrong," I tell him, wrenching my hand away and taking a seat on the bed. "You don't need to try tricks like playing hard to get." I roll my eyes at him and he has the decency to look embarrassed at my words. "We can just have a serious conversation. I'm all ears," I say, happy I've managed to remain so composed.
He looks at me for a few seconds before slowly nodding and coming to sit next to me.
He's not too close but not too far either. His position is awfully stiff too, his legs spread apart, his hands resting on his knees.
Silence descends as neither of us starts talking.
It's now or never.
I don't know if I'm taking a huge risk, but I stretch my arm over to his side, my palm coming to rest on top of his hand.
He seems surprised by the touch, his body jerking up slightly before slowly becoming more relaxed. Still, there's a lot of tension underneath, and I can feel that he's trying to keep himself in check.
"Why did you fix the bear, Vlad?" I ask the question that had baffled me the most. Turning towards him, I watch him swallow hard, taking his time to reply as if he's choosing his words carefully.
"It was a gift. For you," he eventually says, his voice low and lacking his usual confidence.
"And?" I continue to probe. His shoulders angle up in a careless shrug, his lips pursed as if he doesn't know the answer either.
"I felt bad for it," he eventually replies, and his words tug at my heart. "I wanted you to have it," he continues, and for the first time I note a raw vulnerability to him. "You like teddy bears. I know you do," his eyes meet mine, his gaze cloudy with confusion.
"Why are you doing all of this? What are you trying to gain?"
He takes a deep breath, sounding almost defeated.
"I know what I did to you doesn't deserve forgiveness. I know that," he pauses, his brows knit together in a frown. "But I can't do this without you, Sisi. I thought I could. I thought you'd be better off without me. Hell, you probably are better off without me. But I'm such a selfish bastard that I can't let you go," he says, his rough voice sending shivers down my back.
"What are you trying to say, Vlad? Help me understand you, because, honestly, all of your actions so far have done nothing more than confuse me," I tell him, my hand still on his.
"Sisi..." he groans, bending his head low.
"You know I'm not indifferent to you, Vlad. But at the same time, I don't know if I can trust you. You threw me aside once. Who's to say you won't do it again?" I voice out my outmost worry. "You approach everything from a logical angle. What if next time you logically decide I'm a liability again? I can't do this every single time. I can't just wait around for your moods to change."
"Sisi, nothing about you is logical. Nothing I've ever done when it comes to you is ever logical. I know I screwed up. Fuck, I know I've been the biggest ass, on top of physically hurting you too. But please, just give me one more chance to prove to you that I didn't mean what I said. That you really are the most important person for me," he turns his palm up, cupping mine and squeezing it.
"I'm not myself without you," he confesses, "I know it sounds strange. Hell, even to my ears it sounds ludicrous. I spent thirty years just fine without yo
u, but now I realize I wasn't fine," he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. "It took me less than a day to realize that there's no more me without you," he leans forward, closing the distance between us, "no Vlad without Sisi," he whispers, his breath on my cheek, "but I was too damn terrified of my own self and what I could have done to you."
I'm lost in his eyes. His words have never been softer, or more imbued with emotion than now. Even knowing he cannot feel, there's so much feeling.
And I waver.
"Fuck, Sisi," he lowers his forehead, resting it on my shoulder.
I hold myself still, his ragged breaths only making my heart beat faster.
"I was so careful," he whispers, "I wanted to give you a perfect first time," he says, surprising me once more.
I just listen, knowing this is a rare moment for him.
"I was so careful to not cause you any pain. And what did I do?" he gives a bitter laugh. "I took your virginity like a fucking beast. I..." he trails off, a low sound escaping his lips. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself for the hurt I caused you."
"Vlad..." I trail off.
"Even knowing that, I can't help myself. I know it's a lot to ask, but I can only promise I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends. Just please, give me another chance."
I don't know how to answer. I'm simply speechless as I hold on to him, blinking away tears and trying to stop my feelings from clouding my judgement. Because the truth is that I still love him.
I never stopped.
And his words right now are like a balm to my battered heart.
But how much can I believe?
"I don't know how," I answer truthfully, my voice soft and even. "I don't know how, Vlad," I repeat, raising my hand to wipe a tear from my eye. "You know I grew up at Sacre Coeur," I start, trembling slightly as the memories come back.
He draws back a little, his eyes still on me as he waits for me to continue.
"It wasn't pleasant," I admit, not pleasant being an understatement. "I was an outcast, doing my best to survive. Honestly, I was just a child looking for someone to love me, but instead I only found hate."
I gather my hands in my lap, clenching them together as I recall the abuse I'd endured for years on end.
"But my time there made me who I am today. It gave me my fears and my dreams. And because of that, I don't know how to continue with this. I don't know how to forgive you," I whisper, wiping more tears from my eyes.
Without giving it a second thought, I stand up, my shaking hands on the fastening of my dress. His eyes look anguished as he gazes at me, his entire body stiff, as if he doesn't dare make a wrong move.
Before I lose the courage, I drop my dress to the floor, remaining only in my underwear. I need to show him the truth—make him understand why.
"I was five when I got this scar," I point to an ugly line running across my elbow. "I was running away from some kids who were calling me cursed and," I swallow, the memories still painful, "and the devil's spawn."
"Someone tripped me and I fell. My elbow was split open, and still, they didn't stop. I was lying on the ground, bleeding and crying in pain, and all they could do was laugh at me. Sneer that it was what I deserved because that's what cursed people deserve—pain. The nuns weren't any better. I should have gotten immediate help for my wound, but instead I was punished for running around," my breath hitches as I remember that particular punishment.
"I was locked in a dark room for two days. Two days that my elbow hurt like hell, and no one thought to help me, or even inquire about me. Eventually the wound closed by itself, but because it had never been cleaned, it closed with a few pebbles inside. I had multiple bouts of infection until Mother Superior decided that I should finally see a doctor. But even then, do you know what they did?" I ask, Vlad's attention wholly on me, "Mother Superior said I didn't need any anesthetic for when they cut into my skin to remove the pebbles, that they shouldn't waste precious resources on a naughty child."
"Sisi..."
"No, I need to say this," I stop him. "That was the first time I realized that no one cared if I lived or died. And things just got worse," I bring my hand up to my right breast, where they marked me with the cross. "This," I trace the outline of the scar, "was supposed to be an exorcism. They wanted to make sure the devil got out of me and stayed out of me," I explain, doing my best not to become overwhelmed by the past.
I continue to show him scar after scar. My knees that were busted one too many times, my palms full of abrasions from being hit with wooden sticks until I bled, the small indentations all over my stomach as I was kicked and kicked until I couldn't breathe anymore.
And then I reach for the newer ones.
"And you know how I got these," I say and he flinches, looking as if I'd just slapped him.
"But do you know what they all have in common? For every single scar, no matter how tiny, the inner pain was the same. For every single time my body yelped in pain, my soul wept for mercy. Do you know how many times I wished for death? How many times I wished I could just stop the pain for once and for all?" My entire body is trembling at this point, my breath coming in painful spurts. "Because hurting here," I bring my fist against my chest, "makes every other type of pain pale."
"You have no idea how blessed you are that you cannot feel that pain, because that's the real hell."
He keeps staring at me, his eyes drinking me in like he's seeing me for the first time.
"And because of that, I promised myself I would never beg anyone for love or attention. You were right about me being unwanted," I say, and I note the way his jaw clenches, his fists gripped so tight his knuckles are a stark white. "But I swore to myself that I'd never go back to someone who would easily throw me away. It was the only way I could make peace with the hand I was dealt."
I bring my arms around my body, rubbing my skin, the air suddenly chilly.
"And that's why, Vlad, I don't know how to forgive you," I whisper, more tears falling down my cheeks. "Because forgiving you would mean betraying myself. And I don't know if I can live with that."
He blinks, his eyes unfocused. Slowly, he rises from the bed, coming towards me until we're face to face.
Still holding eye contact, he does something that completely floors me.
He drops to his knees.
Head bent low, he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands clenched by his side, his entire body quivering with unreleased tension.
This proud man is on his knees before me.
Eyes wide, I watch him do something I would have never associated with Vlad—he's bowing down at me.
Submission.
The mere fact that he's on his knees in front of me, a most humbling experience, tells me he is serious about this.
"Sisi," he starts, his voice grim yet laced with anguish, "I know I have no right," he breathes deeply, "but I am begging for your forgiveness," he whispers, his body wound tightly as if in physical pain.
"Vlad..." I shake my head, unable to believe what I'm seeing. "What... Why..."
"I screwed up. But please believe me that I never meant what I said to you. I knew it was the only thing that would drive you away from me, and seeing what I'd done to you, I needed you as far away from me as possible."
"Vlad," I reach out, my hand palming his cheek as I turn his gaze towards me. "Does it really matter if you meant it or not?" I ask the question, not expecting an answer. "I told you my time there shaped my fears and dreams. My greatest dream has always been to find someone to love me above all. And I know that can't be you." I tell him gently, hoping he will understand why I can't give in to him.
Even if I forgive him for what happened, it doesn't erase the fact that he's not capable of the one thing I want the most.
His eyes look glossy as he raises them to meet mine, his mouth parted as if he can't quite believe what I've said.
"I want something that you're not capable of giving me," I whisper, my hand moving over his face in a light cares
s.
"What if I could?" he asks, catching my hand with his and bringing it to his lips.
I blink the tears away at his question, the pain in my chest expanding.
"You know you can't," I reply slowly, my own hope dying the moment I acknowledge it out loud.
"Sisi," he moves towards me on his knees, bringing his body in direct contact with mine, "I think I do love you," he says, and my heart skips at the sound of it.
But then I realize he's just trying to placate me. And it hurts even more.
"Please don't lie to me," I whimper.
"I'm not lying," he takes my hands into his before placing them on his chest. "Please listen to me," he says brokenly, and even though I continue to shake my head in disbelief, I cannot not listen.
"I never even knew I was capable of love until you, Sisi," he starts, "I've always been a selfish, self-serving bastard. Until you. I never cared about human life, never gave a damn about who I killed. Until you. I've never cared about anyone's happiness before, mostly going out of my way to cause unhappiness. Until you. And I certainly never cared about pleasing anyone before," he releases a harsh breath, "until you."
He gives my hands a gentle squeeze.
"I don't know if this is love, since I have nothing to compare it to. But you are the most important person in my life, Sisi. You're the only reason I'm still somehow alive. The only reason I'm trying to get better... To maybe deserve you at some point in the future." His words ring in my ears, the sincerity behind them unmistakable.
"Vlad," I call out his name, overwhelmed by his declaration.
"I know I made a mockery of your love for me, when in truth, it warmed me where I didn't know I was cold. You made me warm, Sisi," he pushes my hands over his heart. "You made this goddamn organ do something else besides barely keeping me alive. You made it want to be alive," he continues, his neck strained with tension. "So please, Sisi, please, let me show you I can love you above all. Because I know I would take on the entire world for you."
My own knees buckle, and I fall beside him, my teary eyes searching his features for confirmation that he is speaking the truth.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 46
