Call it addiction, or patheticness. Call it whatever. But here I am, seated on the curb across the street from her house like a goddamn stalker, staring at her window in the upper right side of the two-storey building. The white lace curtain remains shut, the lights dimmed with no sign of life.
For hours, I don’t blink, too scared if I do, I’ll miss her moving around. The fact she isn’t says a lot, and I picture her curled up in bed, shivering beneath the weight of the recent memories.
Out here, I can be productive; that’s what I tell myself. Going home means facing Papa. Out here means I can protect her from the world.
At some point, the blinds covering the large downstairs window part, and I assume it’s one of her parents. No one comes to shoo me away, so I remain.
The next afternoon,Katya’s father opens the door, greeting me with a frown. “Dimitri?—”
“Here.” I shove the paper bag into his hand. “It’s soup. For her.”
He takes it, peeking inside. “Thank you.”
“Just…I don’t know. I want to be there for her, even when she won’t let me.”
His lips pull up on one side. “She hasn’t stopped loving you, Dimitri. But thanks.”
When he shuts the door, I feel slightly better.
When the dooropens the next day, it’s so Katya’s mother can retrieve the daily mail left on the porch. Alongside their mail is a bouquet of lilies, because they’re Katya’s favourite. She picks them up and nods my way from where I’m seated across the street.
Flowers don’t seem like enough, but they’re all I have right now.
Three more days pass,and still nothing.
Not even a peek from her window.
I wonder if she knows I’m outside. Not that I want to rush her. She’s healing. I get it.
Me? Being here is my salve. There’s nothing else I need to make recent events better. Other than being able to gaze upon her face.
When my phone—the new one I bought yesterday to replace my old one that was stolen—buzzes, I grow pointlessly hopeful, only to have those hopes crushed when it’s the man I’ve been pretending doesn’t exist.
Papa
You have duties that don’t involve playing guard dog outside her house. Have you not learned?
Me
Fuck off.
Papa
Your Pakhan is looking for you. He has a job for you. Do not ignore orders.
Me
Once again, fuck off. Better yet, go die.
Papa
So passionate in your stance to pretend you’re not one of us.
I shove my phone into my pocket, only to groan when the annoying vibration occurs again. I’ll regret looking, I’m sure, but being compelled, I flip it over to see the screen.
Lev
Your father’s looking for you. He’s asked me three different times today when you’ll be back.