TATIANA
Five stages of grief.
I might still be stuck on the first stage. I didn't know. All I could feel was pain. The kind that shredded your soul into pieces. Although there was a glimmer of hope. Before.
The red stain extinguished that hope.
And here I thought I was on my way to recovery.
Low chatter and the scraping of silverware sounded in the distance. The staff rushed back and forth between the kitchen and dining room where guests waited for their food. The quiet melody of the soothing music drifted through the air.
I missed the old Adrian. The one I grew up with. The one I knew before everything got complicated between us. The way he'd make me breakfast or take me to see a Russian Opera performance while fighting the urge to doze off. There weren't many Russian things I loved but opera was one of them.
Fuck, I miss him. Things were good between us. Until we got married.
Then something went wrong and I had yet to figure out what and why. I couldn't forget all the good years we'd had. All the trust and happiness. Yet now, I was left without it. It was hard to see people around me get their happily-ever-after while I missed out.
I had been avoiding my family like the plague. Isabella and Aurora had been relentless - checking up on me, taking me to my appointments with the therapist and my doctor who was treating my injuries. Their eyes were always on me, watching me with worry and offering advice. I didn't need any. I just wanted these stages to be complete so I wouldn't hurt so much.
Why did it take so fucking long to go through this grief?
Today, I thought I'd get a reprieve. Vasili and Sasha offered to take me for my final checkup, then decided to treat me to lunch.
So here I was.
My emotions shifted, turning from anger to pain.
My blank eyes stared back at me. Like the ocean, reflecting a soul trapped in its depths where monsters lurked. The harder I reached for the surface, the faster I drowned.
And nobody could see me. Nobody could hear me. My screams were silent.
My face was paler than usual. The bruises had faded to nothing. But on the inside, I still felt them. In my heart, in my soul, even in my bones. It all hurt.
A shudder went through me.
My heart twisted, being yanked out of my chest, inch by inch. Pain clawed at me as I stared at the blood staining my white pants with desperation. With a dull ache deep in my soul.
Something squeezed at my throat, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs.
Lost. It was all lost.
I'd be all alone. Forever. Sasha would eventually marry. Vasili had his own family. Even Alexei had his own family. In this world, men preferred younger women. Virgins. I was neither. The men in this world could have as many women as they wanted. But women, we were only allowed to find love once, like it was some fucking rule. I had my chance for a family with Adrian and it died, along with him, on some godforsaken road in the middle of nowhere. Violently.
Sudden panic expanded in my ribcage. Oh, God.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Oxygen was replaced by a wildfire, eating away at everything in its wake. The feeling of loss choked me with a vengeance. I couldn't handle it anymore. Four weeks of pretending I was okay. My control cracked.
I snapped, then reacted. Fire burned through my veins. My red Christian Louboutin clutch flew through the air and hit the mirror. Again. Then again.
The metal trash can followed. It shattered the mirror, the sound of glass hitting tile echoing through the bathroom.
Hello stage two… anger.
My ears rang. Whether from the glass or blood rushing through my veins. Or maybe it was the screams that pierced the air.
The hot buzz shot through my veins. My vocal cords scratched my throat.
The air escaped me in a rush as hands came from behind me, one wrapping around my mouth and the other around my waist.
"Tatiana, snap out of it," Vasili growled.
It should have been my warning. His words were rougher. His Russian accent came through. But I was too far gone.
I clawed at his arms. Bit his hand. Then I screamed. I screamed until my throat ached and I tasted blood on my tongue. I screamed until my ears buzzed. I screamed until my soul bled.
Until there was nothing left but emptiness.
And then I blacked out.
I woke up with tears staining my face and sweat rolling down my back.
Panic still tore through my chest, stealing oxygen from my lungs. My lip stung and I licked the cut on my bottom lip. I had no idea how I got it, but it hurt like a bitch.
"She has to get help."
Vasili's voice was a hushed whisper. My body shifted back and forth as Vasili drove like he was pissed off and ready to lose his temper. It must be bad if he was driving like a maniac. He rarely did that anymore since he had his kids.
A little green monster slithered through my veins. Envy and hate were a bitch. I had never experienced them before. Not like this. Not so strong.
Until now.
I kept my eyes closed, listening to the hum of the engine.
"You're not shipping her off," Sasha hissed. "It's our job to help her. It's only been a month. She's slowly getting better."
He didn't believe it. Even I could hear the doubt in my brother's voice.
"She just destroyed a restaurant bathroom in her rage," Vasili hissed.
"She bit me. Hit me. And sliced her lip in the process. How in the hell do you think she's getting better?"
Silence followed. I didn't bother moving. Let them think I was asleep. It was better than participating in this shitshow of a conversation.
"What set her off?" Sasha asked. "Did you say something?"
"No," Vasili clipped. "I went to check on her since she was taking so long and found her beating on the mirror, her hands bloodied from shards of glass cutting into her palm."
Silence, louder than a gunshot, followed. It was thick, heavy, and ominous. Deafening.
"She'll get better," Sasha grunted. "It's not like our family is great at grieving. Our own mother went to extremes. Father wasn't far from it."
"Tatiana is nothing like Mother and even less like Father," Vasili snapped.
But we all knew that was bullshit. Every one of us had our parents' qualities. Good and bad. Our control was non-existent, our jealousy deadly, and our fury destructive.
The car came to a stop, but I heard cars passing by us. Had to be a stop sign.
"Just take her to see the doctor," Sasha muttered. "Her hand will probably need stitching."
"Isabella can do it."
"No!" The single word, hoarse and raw, came out without realizing I'd spoken out loud.
My brothers turned in unison. "You and Bella are best friends," Vasili reasoned.
"Please, just take me home," I whispered, shifting up into a sitting position. Vasili's eyes flickered to my pants. Blood now stained most of my white pants and I grabbed someone's jacket to hide it.
"You need stitches," Sasha reasoned, keeping his voice soft.
"Then take me to a doctor," I reasoned, keeping my eyes lowered. "I don't want to go to your place, Vasili."
"Why the fuck not?" he demanded to know with a growl. "We're family. I won't let you isolate yourself."
The silence grew so deafening, it licked at my skin. Like a cold sweat against damp skin.
We didn't sit in silence for long before a horn blared, making me jump.
Sasha shoved his hand out the window and flipped them off. Vasili turned around and resumed driving, but Sasha remained watching me.
"I'm taking you to my place," Vasili declared. Hatred filled me with a searing burn. Not at him. Not at my best friend, but at life, destiny, and the unfairness of it all. I took a deep breath, then another as my vision blurred. I needed to get myself together. "Isabella will fix you up, and then you'll stay with us."
"I don't want to go to your place," I screeched, losing my shit. Again.
"It's all happy and joy there. I don't want to see that."
Admission and jealousy left my lips and bounced against the metal of the car. It was too late to take the words back.
"You need to move on," Vasili said quietly.
"Move on," I repeated quietly. "He was my everything. How do I move on?"
"Tatiana–" Vasili started but I cut him off.
"No, listen. Fucking listen, Vasili." I took a deep breath in but instead of calming me, it only fed the bitterness and rage festering inside me. "What if it had been Isabella? Would you just move on? I am not going to your place.
How do you think it makes me feel? Seeing everything you have that I will never have. I have nothing left. Fucking nothing."
Vasili's eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, connecting with mine. I regretted the words instantly. The raw bitterness was meant to be hidden, not held against the world. Especially not my brother. He deserved happiness.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I had barely said ten sentences, but I was panting by the time I uttered them. My lips trembled. My hands shook.
Blood trickled down my palms and dripped onto the jacket.
"We'll take you to the hospital," Vasili finally said. "We have a doctor on the payroll there."
It was only the beginning of my painful journey.