by L. P. Guleva
“No, I definitely didn’t miss you. What package?” I pulled forward a little harder. Still not enough. How to get out of this without breaking her arms?
“For the mask, silly.”
Oh, crap. Should’ve gotten a PO Box.
I bent my knees and yanked harder. Lauren squealed and rolled over my back, landing in the pond. Water and mud splashed on my legs and shirt.
“That’s stalking.”
Lauren looked at herself in shock. “Why would you do this? I’m wet.”
“You say that to all the guys you’re trying to fuck?” My shirt clung to me. The dirt made me want a five-hour shower just because I remembered how disgusting that pond had been. “I’d offer you a shower and a clean shirt, but you’re a crazy bitch so…”
She screamed and ran at me. I sidestepped. She slipped but managed to grab onto me anyway. The wet, sticky grime slid under my feet, bringing me on top of Lauren. Before she got any brilliant ideas, I grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head.
“Look, I don’t know how else to say this to you. I’m done with you. I regret ever hooking up with you in the first place. If I see you again, I will file for a restraining order. Understand?”
She pouted. “But you love me.”
“Kinda hate you, actually.”
Her face crumbled. “You don’t mean it. You didn’t even block me on your phone.”
“That’s because I wanted more evidence against you for the restraining order. Every time you text me and I ignore you is one more point in my favor. Now, leave me the fuck alone.”
“But we were so good together.”
“When? When you cheated on me or when you started stalking me?”
“I didn’t cheat on you. We were in an open relationship. You don’t see me complaining about that mask girl.”
“I dumped you. It’s over. Get your crazy ass back to New York before I call the cops.” I let go of her and jumped away.
Lauren rubbed her wrists. “That was kinda hot. Like mud wrestling mixed with BDSM.”
Hopeless. Completely hopeless. “Leave.” So I could leave too and go to the nearest police station. I was officially done with this.
“You’re right. Mud gets everywhere, if you know what I mean. I’ll go back to my hotel and get a quick shower, so we can finish what we started.” And she winked.
“Yeah, whatever you say.”
I went back to my car, pulling off the dirty shirt on the way there. I had been bluffing when I talked about a restraining order but now that I said it, it made a lot of sense.
Chapter 23
Zamira
I WATCHED MATT GO to his car, his shirt gone now. He rummaged in the trunk, pulled a new one out, put it on, then drove away. Lauren followed him out of the woods, but instead of leaving, she came to the house. And she didn’t bother getting dressed.
I ignored her knock.
“Come on, mask girl. I just need a shirt and a shower. Matt said I could borrow one of his.”
There was no way this could’ve been anything innocent, right? We were two states away. She had our address. And she was half-naked.
Damn it. Why did my doubts have to prove themselves right?
“Look, I know you’re probably upset, but you can keep fucking Matt. I don’t mind sharing. Just give me some clean clothes, okay?”
Yeah, well. I minded sharing.
“Are you mad at me or something? ‘Cause I’m the one who should be mad, you know. You tried to steal my boyfriend.” Why couldn’t she just shut up and leave me alone?
I needed to do something. I couldn’t just sit here like an idiot and wait for things to go back to normal. They never will.
“Fine, be a bitch. I’m going.”
And she left in her shiny white car, kicking up dust behind her.
What could I even do? I certainly didn’t want to stay here. Matt would probably come back soon with some stupid excuse. There was always an excuse. “You misunderstood. We’re getting a divorce.” Or “You can’t expect people not to have some baggage.” Or even better, “But I love you both.”
Men. Why did I expect this one to be different?
Because he seemed different. Sweet. Honest.
My heart squeezed painfully, but I refused to cry. Not worth it. At the very least, I could keep my dignity and not turn into a total mess. Until I was far, far away. Then, I could break down.
Where would I go, though? My apartment in New York was long gone. I hadn’t made many friends, none that would be willing to let me stay with them until I found a place.
There was Gulya. I couldn't just go stay with her. She was pregnant. Just getting a medical appointment would become ten times harder for her after coming in contact with me.
Whatever. I’ll figure something out. For now, I just wanted to get as far away from here as possible.
I stormed into my and Matt’s bedroom and threw my clothes into bags. The asshole could keep his house and his things. I wouldn’t even break anything, no matter how much I wanted to.
It was my own fault. I fell for the same thing twice. Sure, this one was an “ex” girlfriend instead of a wife, but it was all the same. Screw them both.
Ugh. I couldn’t even drive away from here. There had to be some public transportation around. Busses, trains, something.
I googled it. The bus didn’t leave until tomorrow. The train station was further away, but there was a train in the middle of the night. I could just stay at the station, right? Better than staying here.
I called for an uber and waited. Just a few minutes.
Lucky for me, my ride came before Matt did. Where the hell he even went was beyond me. Probably the same place he always went when he wanted to get away from me. And now that I knew Lauren was in town, it became clear where that was.
Why would she knock on the door asking for a clean shirt, though?
No. I couldn’t go that route. Not again. I had tried every excuse in existence before, trying really hard to turn a blind eye. I had learned my lesson. Wasn’t going to happen again.
I threw the luggage bag in the trunk and hopped in. Less than a day to figure out what to do. That was fine. I’d find something.
Again and again, I looked at my phone for answers. Or maybe for hope. Matt hadn’t called.
My bank account wasn’t any better. Still no unemployment checks. At least the mask sales were picking up. If I could find a cheap apartment, I could make it. Cheap wasn’t in New York, though.
I looked at my contacts again. Gulya was in Miami, Florida. Not exactly cheap either, but I didn’t have to live in Miami. There were smaller, cheaper towns around.
Maybe she could tell me what to expect price-wise. Would I even be able to get there?
I checked all the routes until I found one from New York to Miami. It would take me forever, and I’d probably get sick on the way there.
What was I doing? Maybe I was overreacting. Should I turn around?
“You alright back there?” the driver asked. “Want me to turn on the music?”
“I’m alright.” Just indecisive and scared.
Maybe just talking this whole thing out would help. Not with Matt, of course. He would throw excuses at me until I got even more confused. My parents would kill me. Besides, they wouldn’t be good judges anyway. I needed someone who understood American culture.
I typed in a message to Gulya and asked her to call when she gets a chance. I wouldn’t ask her for anything crazy. Just her opinion and maybe see if she knew where I could rent my own place.
My uber pulled up to the train station. Empty. Dark. Creepy.
At least I wasn’t likely to catch the Rona out here. Unless pests spread it.
I bought the tickets on my phone and waited. And waited. And waited.
Matt wasn’t even trying to call. Why did I keep expecting him to? Why did it hurt so much not to see a missed call?
Finally, my phone rang.
“Hi, Zamira. It’s so good to he
ar from you.”
I shut my eyes at the female voice speaking to me in Russian. We had gotten used to it more than our native Kyrgyz, thanks to the Russian schools. “Hi, Gulya. How are you?”
“I’m good. Just waiting for the world to stop ending. What about you?”
Same. “I’m alright. Just wanted to ask your opinion on something. If your boyfriend goes to a pond and then comes back shirtless and his ex follows him out half-naked, it’s bad, right?” What was I even saying? “Never mind. That was a stupid question.”
“That’s terrible. You’re dumping him, right? Please, tell me you’re dumping him.”
“I am.” My luggage bag stared up at me. If it could laugh at my stupidity, it would. “You don’t know of any cheap apartments for rent in Florida, do you?”
“You’re in Florida? You can just stay with me and Ed. We have extra rooms, and we’re turning the barn into a guest house.” Of course, she would offer.
“I don’t want to dump my problems on you. Besides, I’m not in Florida. I’m taking a train there, so I’m probably going to self-isolate for a couple of weeks.”
“Wait.” Gulya covered the phone and talked to someone, then a minute later continued. “Where are you exactly? I might be able to get you to Florida without exposing you to deadly viruses.”
“I’m in Ohio. Really, though, you don’t need to go crazy. I’m sure I can find something cheap somewhere.”
“Nope. Not hearing it.” She talked to someone again before getting back to me. “Can you get to Cleveland? I can find you a private jet from there.”
“A private jet?” Did I land in a parallel universe? “How?”
“Money. Come on, you won’t be as likely to catch anything. I really can’t afford getting sick right now, so you can’t go on crazy public transportation adventures.”
“I can’t afford it. I can’t even pay you back over time. Honestly, I’ll just find something myself.”
“Too late. Ed already booked it. You have seven hours to get to Cleveland.”
What just happened? "I thought Ed was in the hotel industry and they were struggling."
"Not struggling that much. You realize that by hotel industry I mean he owns a resort chain? We have enough money to hire you a plane, okay? Just get your ass here and then you can get tested and everything."
Chapter 24
Matt
I LOOKED AT THE RESTRAINING order in my hand. Good for one year. If I was lucky, a year was all I would need. If not, I could get an extension.
With this weight off my shoulders, I drove home. The food was probably cold, but as hungry as I was, I wouldn’t even be able to wait for the microwave.
I parked in front of the house and frowned. The lights were off. At this time, Zamira always hung out in the living room, reading or studying. Maybe she was tired and went to bed early.
The door was locked. Nothing unusual, right? Or did she keep it open most of the time?
The living room was empty. So was the kitchen. And our bedroom. I ducked my head into Zamira’s office. Nothing.
Maybe she went to the pond. No reason not to. Sure, it might be too dark to read a paper book, but she did read on her phone sometimes. Why not enjoy some fresh air? She had to be there.
I went to the pond. Mud on the bench. Right next to the water, I could just make out two sets of footprints. The big ones were mine, and the extra dirty ones were Lauren’s. No sign of Zamira.
This was ridiculous. Why was I running around looking for her when I could just text? So, I did. Text went ignored. A message on Discord got me nothing.
Wait, not nothing. She was online. And then she blocked me. What the hell?
Before she blocked my number entirely, I called her. She ignored it.
Had Lauren done something? I should have made sure she had cleared out before I had gone to the police. This had to be her fault.
I glared at my phone. My finger hovered over Lauren’s number. Damn it. I couldn’t yell at her or even just ask what she had done. If I did that, the restraining order would be null and void.
Somehow, I needed to fix this. But how? I didn’t even know where Zamira was and if she was coming back.
I typed up a text again.
Please, call. I don’t know what Lauren said to you, but it’s not true. I love you.
I marched back to the house. The stupid empty living room gave me no clues. Our bedroom said it all, though.
Zamira’s dresser stood empty except for the screw that must’ve come off from the broken handle. It had been intact yesterday.
The closet had no winter clothes that Zamira had hung there. Her books had vanished from the table. Her makeup bag – gone.
I went to Zamira’s office next. Most of the fabric had disappeared, but the sewing machine stood on her work desk. I plopped on the chair. This was it. She really was gone. What was I supposed to do without her?
My fingers glided over the white plastic of the sewing machine. Of course, she would leave this behind. I had gotten it for her, and she was done with me.
I pulled my phone out again and wrote another message.
Please, come back. Or tell me where you are, and I’ll come for you. Please.
Not good enough. What else could I say, though? The truth? That I couldn’t do this without her? That she had grounded me when I had been flying aimlessly, ready to crash.
I couldn’t tell her any of that. She’d think I was trying to manipulate her. How could I give up on us, though?
Can we at least talk?
She blocked my number.
Chapter 25
Zamira
I GOT OFF THE SMALL but comfy airplane. Nothing that had happened in the last couple of days made sense. My head ached from just thinking about it, and turning my phone back on didn’t help. I had to call Gulya to tell her I had landed, but I didn’t want to face any potential messages from Matt.
As the screen lit up, another piece of my heart broke. It must’ve been in a few hundreds of pieces by now.
Of course, I had no missed calls or messages from Matt. I had blocked him the day before. I shouldn’t even want to see any of that. This whole thing was over. I was done with him. I had known from the start that it was stupid to go to another state with a guy I barely knew. Served me right.
A gentleman in his forties waved me over. Time to stop wallowing in my mystery and go see what Gulya was up to.
I walked up to the man in the suit. “Hi. I’m Zamira.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He took my suitcase. “I’m Alex. Mister Mayday asked me to drive you home.”
Luckily, the airport was small and mostly empty. Probably a precaution. How Gulya made any of this happen, I had no idea, but she did.
I stayed quiet all the way to the farmhouse that stood on a sizable lot. Not something I would’ve expected from a guy who could get a private jet, but this was better anyway.
The door swung open, and Gulya ran out. A man in his thirties followed her, shouting for her to be careful.
Not waiting for Gulya to tumble down the stairs in her front heavy condition, I hurried to meet her halfway, but she somehow managed to get to the driveway first. And I had thought this pregnancy would slow her down.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you to stay safe and try not to fall?” I asked as I gave her an air kiss on the cheek, then remembered myself and pulled away. “I’m so sorry. I should probably lock myself in the basement to self-quarantine.”
Gulya rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about that. Come on.” She pulled me toward the guy who’d finally managed to catch up to her. “Zamira, this is Ed. Ed, this is Zamira.”
“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand, then pulled it back and gave Gulya a pleading look.
“Fine, fine.” She waved for me to follow.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said.
“Sorry,” he added. “I don’t even know how to behave anymore with this pandemic. And trying to keep Gulya away from everythin
g contagious is impossible.”
“Being locked up gets old,” Gulya said.
We walked into the house that looked cozy with lots of bright colors and little knick-knacks. Nothing looked like it came from Craigslist, though. The comfy-looking furniture must’ve had a hefty price tag.
“I got one of the upstairs bedrooms ready for you.” Gulya guided me to the room with a huge window and my own bathroom.
I looked back to make sure Ed didn’t follow us. “Since when are you flying people around on private jets?”
She shrugged. “Ed is still wallowing, so I can abuse it a little.”
“Right. Anything else I should know about him?”
Gulya closed the door behind us and plopped on the bed. “He’s a vegetarian. I almost backed out of this marriage when I found out.”
I chuckled as I pulled out a fresh shirt from my suitcase. “Is that why you two got a divorce?”
“No. That was his brother’s fault.” A giant grin spread over her face. “I have to introduce you to him. You need a rebound.”
My hand froze on a pair of clean jeans, but I forced myself to move again. “I think I’ll stay away from men for a while.” I held my fresh clothes away from the dirty shirt I was still wearing. “I’ll take a shower really quick, so I don’t keep spreading germs. You don’t need to get sick right now.”
“Want me to help you unpack?” Gulya asked my retreating back.
“If you have nothing better to do.”
I closed the door behind me, stripped, and jumped into the shower. The pretty tiles and the pulsating water on my back did nothing to help me forget Matt’s face. Or Lauren’s face.
The urge to run back to the crappy fixer-upper in Ohio dragged me down, making me slide to the floor. Why was I even here? Maybe I should call him. Maybe he had a perfectly good explanation.
No. I couldn’t just forget. And I wouldn’t cry over it. No matter how honest Matt had seemed, I had obviously made a mistake, and he wasn’t worth me even thinking about him.