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11

VLAD

"Vanya, where are you when I need you?" I sigh, resting my head in my hands. She would have known what to do in this situation.

I don't know what I expected from seeing her again. I certainly hadn't thought about it much. I'd just acted on the spur of the moment, knowing that I could never let her marry anyone but me. And so I'd ensured—rather forcefully—thatno onewill ever be able to wed her. By marrying her myself.

But everything seems to have backfired.

What would Vanya say?

"Of course it backfired, you idiot! You threatened to kill her entire family." I attempt to imitate my sister.

Well, when you put it like that…

I'd been so desperate that nothing seemed off limits in the moment. I would have doneanythingto tie her to me forever. Hell, Iwouldhave killed her family.

There's absolutelynothingI wouldn't do for her, and that includes mass murder. And genocide. And even nuclear war.

Is there something worse than nuclear war?

Probably stealing candy from a child. And I would have done that too!

But now she hates me…

Not that I blame her, since she has every right to hate me. But I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make her see that I am sincere, and that I'm not playing any games. I don't know how to show her that I've changed—at least slightly—and that I'm ready to do whatever it takes to win back her love and her trust.

"I screwed up," I mutter to myself, my behavior from yesterday having been nothing short of atrocious.

But how could I have reacted any other way when she managed to break my heart with just a few words?

He worshiped my body and made sweet love to me. He showed me it doesn't have to hurt. And when it does, it hurts good.

I bring my fist up, banging it against my heart in hopes it may lessen the ache. Since she uttered them, those words have kept on replaying in my head, torturing me with the knowledge that she's no longer mine.

That she…

Not only can I not imagine someone else seeing her naked, or touching her. But another man inside her? Bringing her pleasure? Taking my place?

"Fuck." I punch myself even harder.

Why does it seem like there's a dearth of oxygen in the room? Or is it that my lungs can no longer process it? Because the more I think of Sisi—my Sisi—even in the same room as another man, I want to go crazy. But to think of her fucking someone else?

The pain is so unbearable, I can't even stand upright. My feet barely carry me to the bed as I collapse, face down on the mattress.

"It's all my fault," I whisper, knowing I have no one to blame but myself.

I pushed her away.

I pushed her into his arms.

She's right. Can I blame her when all I did was hurt her—both physically and emotionally?

Now I can only hope she'll one day forgive me. Even if I have to do penance every day for the rest of my life, I'll do it as long as she's with me.

She's my one hope in this fucked up world, the only star that shines brightly just for me. And no matter what, I'll regain her trust.

But where to start?