Maria
Lyov left early this morning with Boris and Isaak. Business. Work. The Clubs. I never asked for clarification. Partly because I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want the gruesome details of that side of Lyov’s life. I knew what he did and how cruel he was in the position as the Pakhan. He built his empire of blood and the brutality that came with it. It was all dirty money.
But now he was expanding his empire. The human trafficking rings had been shut down after great difficulty. Lyov was scared that this would bring war upon our grounds. But they solved it rather peacefully after everyone realized Lyov wouldn’t budge on the matter and there was no point in fighting him. He was the Master. The ruler. The King. The game belonged to Lyov Ivanshov and only him. His words were law, and everyone bent to it.
The Royalist was no longer active. It died the night I sobbed for my Sophia in Lyov’s embrace.
Now, Lyov was investing into other means. He promised me it would be safe, and I trusted him. He was a wealthy man. Powerful beyond words. Nothing was impossible for him.
My thoughts returned to the present when I stopped in front of Lena’s door. I knocked and waited for her reply. We decided to go baby shopping today. Feeling excitement coursing through me, I waited almost impatiently, bouncing on my tippy toes.
A minute passed, and there was no response. I knocked again and called out. Leaning into the door, I pressed my ear there and tried to listen for anything on the other side. Silence.
But I knew Lena was in there because she was nowhere else.
Grabbing the handle, I twisted it around to check. It was unlocked, and the door opened. Uneasiness crept its way into my body, and my stomach twisted with a strange feeling.
I walked inside and paused on the room’s threshold.
Something wasn’t right.
The room was tidy, with bright sunlight soaking in the wide span of it. It was a deceitful look because the atmosphere in the room felt all wrong.
“Lena,” I called out.
There was another few seconds of silence. My palms grew sweaty, and I hated this feeling brewing inside of me, a silent storm fighting to break free. My stomach tightened, and my happy baby stopped moving, as if the little one could tell something was wrong too. I cradled my bump, soothing both of us.
“Lena,” I said again, looking around the room. “It’s Maria. Are you okay?”
There was more silence.
Until I heard a whimper.
And then a sob.
It was pained, and my lungs clenched. I suddenly felt cold.
I followed the sound and realized it was coming from the bathroom. I moved through the room and opened the door.
The sight almost brought me to my knees. A small gasp escaped past my lips when I saw Lena curled on the floor, next to the toilet, whimpering and crying in pain.
Her eyes met mine, and they were filled with anguish. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I felt a cramp there. I could feel Lena’s pain, and I quickly waddled over to her.
With some maneuvering, I finally knelt down by her side. I reached out to touch her, but she flinched and then let out another choked sob. My eyes scanned down the length over her body before pausing on her flat stomach.
My throat went dry, and my tongue felt heavy when I tried to speak.
“It hurts,” she whispered through a scratchy throat. Her voice was almost unrecognizable. Gone was the happy, chirpy girl. In its place was a fragile, broken woman, crying out her loss.
My gaze fell on the blood that had pooled by her side. “Oh, Lena.” I closed my eyes. My chest seized, and it hurt when I realized the meaning of this situation.
Shaking my head, I swallowed against my dry throat and opened my eyes. I needed to be strong for Lena.
“You need to get up. We’ll go to the doctor. Nothing will happen. It will be okay, Lena.” I grabbed her arm, trying to pull her up. She didn’t budge. Instead, she curled more into her body, as if wanting to hide from everything. “Please, Lena,” I begged.
She let out another whimper, and her sniffles filled the bathroom. Her hand went to her stomach, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric of her dress.
“It’s…too…late.”
“No. Don’t say that!” I pulled at her again, feeling panicked.
“…too late,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
Her dress had ridden up, and I could see blood coating her inner thighs. It appeared as if there were blood clots, a lumpy-looking thing between her legs, on the floor.
Bringing a hand up to my mouth, I tried to stop my choked cry. There was too much bleeding. And I knew she was right. It was too late.
We were both so happy last night, when we found out she was pregnant. We were going to be mothers together. Lena couldn’t stop chatting about it…our babies.
She had meant to tell Boris the good news today.
“It hurts. So much.”
Her broken words felt like lashes against my soul. “I didn’t…have…a chance to tell…Boris. He was…going to be a…father.”
My mind raced. My heart ached. I didn’t know how to console Lena. I wished I had the proper words, but nothing could be said to lessen a mother’s pain at losing her baby.
So I sat against the wall. I gripped one of her hands in mine, while the other stayed on her stomach. Giving Lena a gentle squeeze, I tried to comfort and soothe her with my touch. I thought of going to call Boris. She needed him at a time like this, but I also didn’t want to leave her alone. When I tried to move, her hand wouldn’t let me go. She made the decision for me.
Lena continued to cry until her tears turned silent. I thought maybe hours passed. Or was it just minutes? I couldn’t tell. I lost track of time. It was tormenting to feel my baby’s kick.
Eventually, I moved away from the wall and knelt next to Lena’s head again. Touching her sweaty forehead, I tucked her hair away from her face and caressed her cheeks.
“Lena. You need to get up. We need to clean you up. Please,” I said quietly.
She opened her eyes and stared into mine. Hers were dark—a mask of misery. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but then she closed her mouth again. Silence.
I didn’t say anything either, because words weren’t needed. In fact, speaking hurt more than the silence around us.
Lena winced when she moved. I helped her into a sitting position, and her gaze went to the blood on her dress. Her expression turned bleak, and then she shuddered. With my help, she stood up on wobbly legs.
When I was sure she could stand while leaning against the wall, I took a step away and went to turn the shower on. I let it run, warming up the water to a temperature I knew Lena might like. I went back to her, where she was still standing, unmoving. Her arms laid limply at her sides as she just stared at the floor. I avoided the small pool of blood and stopped in front of her quaking body.
She let me help her undress until she was just in her panties and her bra. Lena’s chin wobbled, and I could tell she was about to cry again. I knew the pain wasn’t just emotional but physical too. I kept a firm grip on her arm and walked her into the shower. When she was under the cascading water, I took a few steps back, giving her privacy. I even turned around. “Do you want me to leave?”
Lena didn’t answer, and I kept my back to her. After picking a new towel and a pair of underwear from her bathroom drawers, I placed them on the counter. There was still no sound except the water running.
I took a peek over my shoulders to see Lena standing still under the water, staring into the distance. She still hadn’t moved from the position I left her. My shoulders slumped, and I took a deep breath, trying to ease the ache in my chest.
My feet took me forward, and then I stopped. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to help, but I was scared it wouldn’t be welcome. And then I wasn’t sure how to help.
Lena wrapped her arms around herself as her small body trembled. Seeing her so fragile, so vulnerable, I made my decision without thinking twice. She needed me now, more than ever.
My dress pooled at my feet as I quickly disrobed. I left my underwear on and joined Lena in the shower. She barely acknowledged me until I touched her hands and tried to uncurl her arms from around her waist. Lena grimaced, and then she whimpered.
Her eyes met mine. “Maria.” Her whisper was strained and hoarse, coming out from deep within her. I saw a hint of relief there, when she realized she wasn’t totally alone.
We didn’t speak as I lathered up her body and hair. She let me help her as I massaged her scalp. Her eyes closed, and she sighed, her body relaxing the slightest bit. That was enough for me.
After washing away the soap and shampoo, I let the warm water cascade around her. Lena breathed a long, deep breath, and she finally opened her eyes. Her hands gripped mine tightly, as if she was scared I would let go. But I didn’t plan on doing so, ever.
Lena and I, we were a team. It had been like that since the very beginning—the first day we met and she decided we would be best friends. There was no separating us.
I pulled her out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She shivered as I scrubbed her dry and then helped her into one of Boris’s shirts and her pants. I did the same with myself, pulling on my dress again. We left the bathroom together, without sparing the pool of blood another glance. My throat felt heavy with a lump again.
The door closed behind us, and I helped Lena onto the bed. I went to kneel behind her on the mattress and combed through her wet hair until every single strand was untangled. She then laid down, and I joined her, pulling the comforter over us.
“Thank you,” she croaked. Two simple words that meant a thousand things between us.
In response, I hugged her close, and she curled into me. “Thank you,” she said again in my chest. Lena softly cried herself to sleep, and my tears fell down my cheeks silently. I rocked her gently until I knew she was asleep.
I am here, Lena. It will be okay.
One day soon, our babies would play together. That dream wasn’t shattered. It was cracked, with a few pieces missing. But it was not forever gone.