Bull-fucking-shit.
That doesn’t happen. Instead, I get home and tear my bridesmaid’s dress off me, the sound of fabric ripping bouncing off the walls, followed by the shoes I hurl at the wall, etching divots in the plaster. I fall onto my bed, screaming and thrashing like an animal caught in a steel trap, pulling at the sheets with my fists. I fall asleep like that in my bra and panties, completely spent from fatigue and pain.
* * * Lucy
At home
Tribeca
One week later
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Sitting on the closed toilet in my bathroom, I stare at the ten plastic sticks, their ends all soaked in blue, lined up like a platoon about to go into battle. I emptied the Brita pitcher, making sure I had enough water in me to use all ten pregnancy tests I bought at Duane Reade. And they all turned blue. Every single one.
It explains everything. My voracious appetite like when I inhaled a bag of potato chips and a pack of Twizzlers simultaneously at Allegra’s final dress fitting, a moment that makes me cringe now when I think about it.
I know that the timing is awful. Fucking godawful. Tomas is in the Czech Republic, and I have no idea when he’s coming back. We’ve had some wonderful times together, but the idea of marriage and kids hasn’t even been brought up yet by either of us. It’s just too soon. I shiver at the thought of telling him this, but I don’t have a choice. He’d notice if my zaftig figure gradually started resembling that of Jabba the Hutt. And with the way he’d been pulling away from me before he left, I think this would end us permanently.
I have to tell him.
But he should be here, dammit. He left me with no explanation. I don’t know what to think.
I’ve never been so lost in my life.
My pulse starts to race and a wave of fury overcomes me. With one sweep of my hand, I knock over the plastic sticks like a set of dominoes. Falling back against the wall, I sink down to the floor and collapse into uncontrollable sobs. I cry and cry until there’s nothing left.
* * * Tomas
Mladá Boleslav, Czech Republic
Fifty kilometers northeast of Prague
The same week
I run my fingers over the dark blue velvet ring box my mother has just handed me.
I miss my Luciana.
I never expected to meet someone like her. She challenges me like no woman ever has before. I love everything about her, from her beautiful curvy body to her dirty mouth. I know that I want to spend my life with her, which is why I’m here, back in my village to put the ghosts of my past to rest so that I can ask Luciana to marry me when I return to New York.
I open the box to reveal the antique platinum diamond engagement ring my grandfather gave my grandmother, which is now mine to give to Luciana.
Luciana…
I know I didn’t leave her in the best manner, but I honestly didn’t know how to explain why I was returning to my homeland. I only hope that she will understand once I explain everything to her.
And now that I have the ring, I can complete the next task, the most difficult one that I only hope has the outcome I’m wishing for.
I step out of our house, giving a wave to my father who’s out back tending to his bees. The sun beams down on me as I turn left out of our driveway to walk the two miles to my destination. Along the way, neighbors shout hello to me, some stop me to ask how I am and where I’ve been. They also inform me about Petra and what she’s up to now, and at least now I know what to expect when I see her.
I reach the center of town and stop in front of the shop window, the same sign advertising its wares as it has for the past twenty-odd years—“Potraviny,” “groceries,” the store where I met Petra Benesova when I was a young boy and where I asked for her hand in marriage from her father when I was eighteen.
I take a deep breath and walk in. The same bell jingles when I push the door open.
Her father, Mr. Benes, is the first person I see.
“Dobry den.” I acknowledge him nervously with the customary morning greeting.
His eyes widen at the sight of me. His back straightens and his chest enlarges as he takes a deep breath to give the appearance of strength, going into protective mode for his daughter. “Hello, Tomas,” he replies in Czech. “I heard you were back in town. How are you?”
“I’m well. And Mrs. Benesova? You’re both fine, I hope?”
“We are, thank you.”
I swallow in my throat. “I was hoping I could speak to Petra. Do you know—”
Just as I’m about to ask where she is, a blonde head pops out of the curtain that separates the back room from the front. “I couldn’t find the—”
Time stands still as I look into the green eyes of my childhood sweetheart, the girl I thought I’d be with forever until the unspeakable happened.
I stand ramrod straight, trying to keep my breathing even.
You can do this. “Hello, Petra.”
“Tomas,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“It’s been a long time,” she replies, a bit of steel and anger in her voice, which is completely understandable and expected, but I deserve it.
I sigh from embarrassment. “I know. I’m very sorry about that.”
We stare at each other for what seems like forever, taking in the sight of each other. I watch as she flips her thick hair over her shoulder, now longer. She seems taller. Her eyes are softer, wiser, as if she’s already lived an entire lifetime even though we’re both in our late twenties. But I still detect a note of sadness and vulnerability, which is not at all a surprise after what the both of us went through together.
She stands perfectly still as her own eyes take me in. “You look good, Tomas. Different. I hear you’re doing well in New York.”
“Thank you, I am.”
Silence permeates the store. This is so awkward, but I don’t look away from her as tempting as it is to make it easier on me. She deserves better from me after leaving her the way I did.
I swallow deep past the lump in my throat. “Would you take a walk with me?”
Her father places a hand on her arm. “Petra, you don’t have to…”
Her tall frame steps out from behind the curtain, placing her hand on her father’s arm. “It’s okay.”
She grabs her purse from a shelf behind the counter, leading the way to the door.
Outside on the sidewalk, we stop and stare at each other. “Do you want to see Oksana?” she asks.
I exhale a breath. The weight on my shoulders lessens. “Yes. I was hoping you’d say that. I’d like that very much.”
A small smile appears across her lips. “I take good care of her.”
I lift her hand and place it in the crook of my arm. “I know you do. Let’s get something for her.”
We begin to walk slowly along the cobblestone street, not just so we don’t trip, but also because it wouldn’t feel proper to rush. We need to take each other in, the feel of being in each other’s presence again after so many years. She holds on to my arm tightly, and I do the same with her hand so she won’t fall. I am here for her now, something I didn’t do when I should’ve before.
Something sharp bites my palm. I look down at her hand. A large diamond ring sits on the third finger of her left hand.