Page 58 of Viparious

“If it’s your sanity, I think you lost that when you decided to lay on the floor.”

His laugh doesn’t have any humor in it, everything is weighed down by whatever emotion is filling his veins.He jumps up, full of energy, without his knees touching the floor. I don’t know why I’m talking to him when my heart is still pounding from the fear, but I need him to chase it away.

“Why don’t you ever do anything normally? You won’t even put your knees on the floor to stand.”

He stands in front of me, and I realize he’s drunk. It’s not making him slur or sway, it makes him honest as he cups my face with two hands and breaks me with a low voice.

“You spend your childhood being forced to your knees, and you’ll die before you ever drop to them again.”

My eyes close as he presses his lips to my forehead. It’s not a kiss and he doesn’t move away, prolonging the contact. I can feel the words more than hear them as he speaks into my skin.

“V drugoy zhizni, moya koroleva.”1

It sounds like goodbye, and my throat burns.He doesn’t let go of my face or straighten as he takes in a deep breath. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see him walk away or let the tears fall. I lose the battle when he kisses my crown and breathes out, “I moya malen’kaya budushchaya koroleva.”2

Anger mixes with pain. The first time he’s acknowledging my daughter is to say goodbye. The reverence and longing in his voice is muting it, twisting my emotions together and making them harder to navigate.

Life would be easier if I could hold on to my hate. If Vlad didn’t let his teddy bear side out in front of me and just let me see the same as everyone else. But he has to be my one weakness and my mouth opens when he turns to leave.

“Vlad?” There’s no thought of what I’m going to say, but I want him to look at me. I stare at his back, and he just hums in response, looking straight ahead. Choosing not to stay in my emotions, I plug fake lightness into my voice. “Are you going to pretend to be a rug again once I’ve fallen asleep?”

I can’t see his face, but I know he’s smiling. His ears twitch with the movement. Turning to face me, he smiles but it’s all dopey and melting my heart. This stupid idiot is beyond drunk and even intoxicated, he has control of his body. It lowers the neurotic part of his personality, and he sounds innocent.

“Probably.”

Holding my hand up so he can help me stand, the dopey smile gets wider, and I soften. He doesn’t leave me waiting and takes my hand, holding it hostage.

“Lay on the bed. The floor will hurt your back.”

The caveat isn’t needed, but it helps reinforce the idea to myself. I’m not inviting him to stay, it’s only so he doesn’t get hurt.Choosing not to stare at him, I move around him and lock myself in the bathroom. I’ve never been happier to be woken up than I am right now. Maybe he’ll be honest, and we can at least be cordial for the sake of my daughter. Or he’ll spill every truth and I’ll never recover.I don’t know which one I would prefer. His childhood was horrific, adulthood can’t be much better.

Splashing water on my face, I pull on my big girl panties and stop hiding. It’s Vlad, he’ll be a cocky asshole and make some dumb comment then fuck off before the sun has even risen. Taking a fortifying breath, I push through the door and keep my eyes fixed on my pillow. He’s laid on his back above the covers in only his boxers and my treacherous body flares to life. Any lustful thoughts turn to smoke, seeing him slowly blink up at the ceiling. There’s nothing but sadness surrounding him, thickening the air and my lungs feel heavier.

I try to keep my movements to a minimum, so I don’t dislodge the tension and lay on my side, facing the wall. Everything is loud in the silence. My questions keep screaming, wanting a voice while he breathes evenly. He’s not asleep, I can feel his eyes on the back of my head and the sheets rustle as he moves closer. His bruised knuckles come into view as he pulls the sheets up to my chin, and he flinches when I ask, “Why do you act like she doesn’t exist?”

It’s not loud in volume but the accusation is there.

Out of everything he’s done, that hurts the most. I didn’t expect him to fall on his knees in devotion, but he could at least ask if his child is okay. He lifts my head and places it on his bicep before caging me in with his chest against my back. But he’s careful not to touch my bump as his other hand is flat on the pillow in front of my face. It’s not a hug or holding me for comfort. He’s anticipating my reaction to the shit he’s going to say. Kissing my shoulder, he rests his temple on mine and the haunted tone leaving him makes me shiver.

“Because she will destroy me.”

He tightens his arms around me, keeping me in place as I try to turn.

My daughter is a baby, she’s not even born, but there’s finality in his body. Like every fiber of his being is convinced she could possibly hurt him. His fingers slowly move across my ribs, and I hold my breath.

“I’ve never even seen her, but she’s more powerful than anyone else on this planet.”

Snatching his hand back before he can touch my bump, his chest stutters against my back as he drags in a breath.

“You’ll both be safe and happy. Not blue, never blue. Pink, you’ll be pink. I won’t survive burying someone else, not again.”

A lump grows in my throat, choking me at the depth of his low voice. My voice is too quiet under the weight of our emotions.

“Who did you bury?”

I have no idea of how many people Vlad has killed but those lives wouldn’t be mourned. His weird behavior is due to grief, and he doesn’t answer my question as he chooses to gut me.

“Anika always said it hurts because you’re so beautiful. I wish my outsides matched my insides.”He’s falling asleep, his body sinking into me as he lets out a weary sigh. “I can’t choose. I have to keep my promise, or I killed her for nothing.”

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