Page 63 of Conceal

Fuck! I don’t want to be that guy.

But I don’t know how to show up as the better version of myself when I’m so goddamn angry. I’m pissed at Niko. I’m living with her father. I’m angry at her mother for not fighting harder for her. And I’m holding onto this anger with all of my strength, because helplessness is quick on its heels.

I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect the best woman, the best person I’ve ever met. And every day she lives under that asshole’s roof is one more day she’s not safe.

Watching her walk down the aisle and marry another man? I’ve had nightmares about it ever since. Knowing he might hurt her... I’ve spent the past week either drinking until I’m blacked out or fighting. If I’m alone with my own thoughts for more than a minute, I spiral, not knowing what’s happening to her.

Niko hasn’t seemed to notice I’ve been gone. Roman’s been keeping an eye on me, while playing the same role as bodyguard, but now for Niko. How he’s able to stand him, I have no idea.

Mik: Meet me at the barn

He’s sent it to Roman and me only. Maybe he has an idea of how to get our girl back. I look at myself in the mirror and hate the man staring back at me. Black eyes, the bridge of my nose swollen, split lip, hungover, looking like shit.

Tatiana would be appalled if she saw me. Shame slithers up my spine.

I’ve been running from my problems and my pain. I’ve been drinking and fighting to avoid sitting with the really uncomfortable truths.

I’m in love.

I don’t deserve her, but she loves me anyway.

She’s married to someone who is not me, Mik, or Roman.

We have no idea what’s happening with her. She could be killed at any moment.

And there’s nothing we can do about it.

There’s nothing we can fucking do about it.

I sigh and feel it in my bones. I want to punch the mirror, but that doesn’t solve any of my problems. I find the half empty Jack bottle from last night instead and pour it down the kitchen sink.

The version of Lev that deserves Tati is sober. In pain, but sober. I can man up and bear this without fighting or drinking. It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but running away from my problems doesn’t solve any of them.

I need to be the man who deserves her, even when she’s not here.

I take a quick shower before driving to the barn Mik’s been working at.

When I park, he’s waiting outside for me, leaning against the wall. Roman’s already here, too, and they’re talking quietly between the two of them. When they see me, they turn and walk inside, knowing I’ll follow.

The barn smells of fresh hay and horse shit. It’s a smell I associate with Tati, and my stomach clenches low in my gut at the reminder of her. I breathe through the pain of it, though. I’m not running anymore.

I’m surprised when Mik stands outside the last stall and pulls out his phone.

Juliet’s there, one hind leg cocked, nearly asleep.

I know Niko ordered her to be sold, but Mik somehow snuck her here. Relief floods my system. It’s just a horse, but losing Juliet is what made Tatiana give up.

There’s something called a “heart horse” in the equestrian community. It’s a horse that usually comes around once in a lifetime, that shares a special connection with its rider. Juliet is absolutely Tati’s heart horse, and losing her would be as painful as losing your own heart.

Then you add losing school, losing us, losing art, and Tatiana’s naturally depressed tendencies, and I’m not surprised she fell back into a depression. Then she lost her mother.

Watching her at the funeral was the most painful thing I’ve ever done. Every cell in my body wanted to go to her - to hold her and kiss her and tell her it was all going to be okay. I knew that if I had, though, she’d have to watch me die at the hands of her brother. So, I couldn’t. But my entire body ached from how much restraint it took.

Mik’s phone ringing pulls me out of my memories, and when the ringing stops, he turns the phone toward Juliet.

A broken sob comes from the other end of the line, and I know it’s Tatiana. My heart lodges in my throat. It’s the closest I’ve been to her in a month - since the cabin.

I watch, helplessly, as Tati cries on the other side of the phone.