“Good morning, Mrs. Olga,” I smile nervously at the woman in front of me because I don’t know how many details Denis told her.
“Good morning, Fedya.” Although she seems confused by my arrival, she smiles kindly at me, letting me into the spacious apartment where I spent a good part of my childhood with Dan.
“Weren’t you in Spain with Denis?” She asked curiously, and I decided not to respond to her question.
“Is Victoria maybe home?” I immediately move on to what interests me and why I came. I can’t reach her all morning, and I’ve tried at least a thousand times.
She frowned at the very mention of her daughter, which gave me an answer even before she spoke.
“She went out before I got up. Only God knows what is happening with that child,” she sighed, followed by a shrug as if she had completely given up on her daughter.
I take the phone out of my pocket, to check if there is any message from her but my attention gets occupied by the date. June twenty-first.
I frowned at the very thought that flew through my head. Graveyard.
“Nothing then, Mrs. Olga. I’ll go. Thank you anyway.” I am immediately ready to go and try my theory.
“Shall I tell her something when she comes back?” She offered, though I know any message would be forgotten five minutes after I leave their apartment.
“There is no need. I’ll tell her myself,” I smiled kindly at her and left the apartment. I hurried up the stairs to the exit of the building, then to the car. As soon as I get behind the wheel, I squeeze the gas and head for the city cemetery.
How come I didn’t think of that before?
•Vika’s pov•
I sit silently on the edge of a white marble grave and watch a black-and-white photo while tears wet my cheeks again. I just don’t know how it’s possible that I still have tears after all this time.
Two years since I lost one of the most important people in my life.
I somehow dealt with depression, but I still miss him every day. It doesn’t seem like time helps me much.
“Why, Dima?” I asked peacefully, not taking my eyes off his picture as if she would give me the answer. From day one, I ask myself the same question - why?
It was not like in the movies, with a good-bye note left, where he would at least try to justify his decision. He did as he decided, leaving us no hint, which would help us discover what pushed him to make such a decision, what took him away from us.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to push away the thoughts that are coming. I can’t let them drag me down again.
I understand him to some extent. Well, I wanted to end my life after his death. I thought that was the only way to make the pain I felt go away, that I couldn’t be able to live with it for another day. If it weren’t for Fedya, I would likely be where he is.
The sound of footsteps startles me, and I am already panicking. I don’t enjoy people in moments like this. I don’t want anyone to see me in this condition.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here.” I’m slightly relieved to recognize Fedya’s voice. Although I wish he hadn’t come.
“Vika, please, let’s go home,” he says peacefully, begging me to stop thinking about Dmitri. And even though I know he wants the best for me, I can’t listen to him this time.
I mutely shook my head, letting him know that I had no plans to leave him alone for the anniversary when everyone else already did. Not even his parents are here today. Only me.
“Love, come on, please,” I winced at the way he addressed me, so I glanced at him confusedly. It’s as if he just became aware of what he said, so I notice how he blushed.
“I can’t leave him alone. Not today. Not again,” I say frantically, despite knowing that I will appear to him like a total lunatic.
He says nothing but pulls me into a tight embrace. Tears keep flowing as he tries to calm me down.
“Why?” I repeat in a shattered voice the question that bothers me, so I hear him swallow the lump.
“Vika, let’s go home. I think I should tell you some things,” he looked at me seriously, so I found myself on my feet without much thought.
I kiss the marble monument once more, so I follow Fedya to his car.
I want to know everything they have hidden from me so far.
•Fedya’s pov•
Vika sits in an armchair across from me and looks at me blankly after I have told her everything I knew about her best friend.
“You’re lying,” her voice cracks as she struggles to accept things as they are.
“You know I would never lie to you. Especially not in a situation like this.” Although I am aware that it is only a defense mechanism, I do not allow her to even consider me lying to her.
“But,” she strolls around the room in disbelief ‘cause she apparently can’t digest new information.
“Dima? To take drugs?” I nodded silently, giving her the space to ease herself in whatever way she wanted.
“Come on, Fedya, that’s unimaginable! He never held a cigarette!” She defended him, just as I thought she would. I know how much he meant to her. And I hate him for not considering how his suicide would affect her.
If he had thought of her for just one moment, I know everything would have been different. He loved her more than she could imagine. And I will never tell her that because I am aware of how she would react. She already thinks that she is partly responsible for his decision.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, letting her know I was dead serious.
“Are you saying he overdosed?” She asked me in disbelief, to which I shook my head.
“You know how he killed himself. He did not overdose, but the addiction was the trigger. When he got addicted, he started considering what someone would say and think. Apparently, he saw suicide as the only way out,” I try to explain, but I am interrupted by another burst of tears.
I hug her tightly, trying to at least somehow make this whole situation easier for her, even though I know it’s impossible. Situations like this scare me because the exact image comes to my mind, again and again, the scene I encountered in their apartment when I happened to stop by to get the sweatshirt I forgot the day before.
And every time I ask myself, what would have happened if I hadn’t come? The answer to that terrifies me.
“I’m here,” I say softly, running my fingers gently over her back. She pulled away from me a little and looked up at me. I remove the tears from her face, then place a gentle and brief kiss on her lips.
“I’m always here.”
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