“Is it okay here? Are they treating you okay?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Lovely. All the food I want, all the books I can read. A big bed, running water. Heaven, really,” she said, with a flat and empty voice. Then she met my eyes, and there were tears in hers. “Valeria, I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m so sorry that I—oh, God, how can I go on, knowing that I was a part of that?”
What in the world was happening here? She had once been the most lively, happy, joyful person—she’d had a laugh so infectious that even our sternest teachers couldn’t help but catch a smile from her. And still, I was sure I could see a little of that in her, somewhere, someplace.
“Natasha, it’s alright.” I gestured to the chair beside me. “Come on. Sit with me. Talk to me.”
Natasha shook her head. “No, I can’t. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, or this place, or Daniel or anything. What I deserve is death, or prison. I’ve been such a—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Natasha, none of this is your fault. I don’t forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive. You’re my friend, I love you, and that’s all there is to it.” I rushed to her then, pulling her into my embrace.
As soon as my arms closed around her, she melted into tears and sobs. This, at least, was her, truly her. No more artifice, no more anger. Just my lovely friend, having the hardest of times.
She confessed how it all started. An invitation to a secret lavish party. Petre took to her, plying her with words and finally, enticing her to try his special ‘tea’. She was so lonely, lost from her parents’ deaths, she was an easy target. Our engagement was recently secured and he wanted someone to watch me.
Who better than my roommate and best friend? Make my one ally loyal to him, leaving me even more vulnerable.
I swept her hair aside so I could press my cheek against hers. Her tears spilled onto my own skin. I understood then that she was as traumatized and exhausted as a beaten pony, living in a world of threats and fear.
I couldn’t imagine what Petre had put her through, but I knew she had a long road back to being fully herself.
“I love you,” I told her as she cried against my shoulder. “And we will make sure you get better. I will be here for all of it. I will never leave you again. You are family, Natasha. I will be your family.”
She held me so tightly that it was hard for me to get a full breath, and her sobs came out as agonized wails. Her knees buckled and together we slid down to the floor. Slowly, very slowly, she cried it out and I felt her begin to relax in my arms.
From far away, I heard Vasile’s heavy footfalls approaching. As he came through the drawing room door, carrying a tray of food and tea in his hands, his expression went from hopeful expectation to serious concern. His eyes shot from me to Natasha. I smoothed Natasha’s tangled hair and looked up at him.
“It’s okay,” I told him softly. “She’s okay.”
Vasile crossed the room and set down the tray, the strong muscles of his neck and throat catching the firelight as I watched him sit down on the sofa opposite where Natasha and I sat on the floor.
With his legs parted wide, he rested his forearms on his knees and watched me. For a long moment, neither of us said anything. We simply stared into one another’s eyes. The truth was that life was much, much too short to delay starting my life with him for one moment more. Life was fragile and I would rather face the risks of life by his side than away from it.
Life was, from start to finish, one big gamble. And it was time for me to put my faith in that gamble—in him. In us.
“My answer is yes,” I whispered to him, over Natasha’s shoulder.
His face lit up with such joy, such happiness as I had never seen from him before. Much to my surprise, his eyes glimmered with tears, and he leaned back in the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Or maybe even at heaven.
And oh, how he smiled—really smiled—as if maybe for the very first time.
CHAPTER 36
Vasile
Two months later
She stood in front of me in her wedding dress. So much stronger now after two months of recovery, I thought as I gripped my knife in my hand. Strong enough to take anything I chose to give her.
When I’d removed her blindfold, I ordered her to close her eyes and keep them closed, but I could tell it was fucking killing her.