Tsura: A World War II Romance

Tsura started running, a growing madness pecking away at her with each footfall in the muddy road. She didn’t know why she was still bound to the ground anyway. The last of her tethers had snapped. She tripped and slammed into the ground, landing hard on her elbows and getting a face full of ice-slushed mud. Part of her wanted to stay right there, to die right there. Dust to dust. Mud to mud. Put her body in the ground beside Luca’s. That was the only forever people were promised. The quiet silence of eternity in a tomb.

  She and Luca could be together in death as they had been so little in life. In life, always one thing or another had ripped them away from one another. If the soul did live on after the body was dead, then maybe they truly would be together forever in death. And if it did not, well, then she wouldn’t be here to feel the pain anymore. Why had she bothered pulling herself up all those times before? Bury me standing, for I have lived a lifetime on my knees, the old saying went. She was ready for the lifetime on her knees to be done. She was ready to return to the earth.

  She laid down flat on her stomach, uncaring that her face was in the mud. She willed it to absorb her, to take her now so she could find Luca’s soul before it got too far ahead on the journey.

  But then there were arms around her waist pulling her up, up, up.

  “Stop it!” Tsura shrieked.

  “Tsura, it’s me.” He spoke quietly. “It’s Mihai.”

  “Leave me here!” she shouted.

  “No,” Mihai said. His voice was still cool, still calm. But then he grabbed her jaw as he wiped the mud off her cheeks when she was standing on her own again. His fingers flexed as if realizing too late he was holding too firmly. But when she tried to pull from his grasp and look away, his fingers tightened to keep her in place. Now he spoke through gritted teeth. “You promised Luca. I was standing in the doorway. I heard. I heard you swear to him you’d survive.”

  “That was when I thought…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but surely Mihai understood. She’d promised Luca that when she thought she’d have Luca and Andrei to help her. Now there was no one.

  “I’m here,” Mihai said firmly as if reading her thoughts. “I swear to you. Whatever you need.”

  Tsura didn’t shake her head, she only stared over his shoulder. Mihai had been loved by Luca and now Luca was gone. That meant her tie to Mihai was cut as well. He was nothing but an inconvenience who wouldn’t let her die. She pulled away from his grip.

  “Come. You’re covered in mud. Let’s go back to grandfather’s house.”

  Tsura shook her head vehemently. “Not there. Not now.”

  Mihai sighed. Tsura’s heart squeezed in her chest. Oh God, why had she ever been foolish enough to let herself love Andrei? To love anyone? Luca had half her heart and Andrei had taken the other half and now both of them were gone. Death or betrayal, she didn’t know which cut the deepest.

  “We’ll go to an inn,” Mihai said.

  Tsura didn’t respond, barely noticed him taking a firm grip on her arm and leading her ahead. She tripped over her feet but he kept her upright. She stared ahead without seeing. Time, movement, one foot in front of the other, dirt turning to cobblestones underfoot, none of it had any meaning. It was all a play she was watching from very far away. The actors around her seemed so laughably serious, so concerned with their little roles, not realizing that the gossamer tie to life could be severed at any time. And down they would go, and then down further still into the ground.

  Suddenly they were inside a room and Mihai was speaking words to a woman at a counter. His wife had fallen in the mud, that was all, and yes she was fine, but did they have an empty room for the night?

  Tsura didn’t listen for the answer. She stared out the window at the way the light fell through the smudged and chipped glass. It splayed little beams onto the ancient looking carpet underfoot. The room was dim, light coming from the dirty window and a single overhead lamp hanging so low Mihai’s head would bang into it if he wasn’t careful when he turned around.

  But the next second, thoughts of Luca and Andrei were back. She stumbled and tripped as Mihai led her forward. Oh. Stairs. And Mihai was urging her up them. Stairs, she knew how to do that. She walked numbly upwards, step by step. She went through the door into the room Mihai ushered her toward. She stood in the center of the room. It was an old inn. The wooden floorboards creaked loudly with each step she took.

  “The innkeeper said there’s hot water. I’ll turn on the bath for you.”

  Mihai’s low voice was a dim rumbling background noise, like thunder far in the distance. Again her feet moved where Mihai led her. She barely felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders.

  “Sit, Tsura. Take off your shoes.”

  He went into the small bathroom. She heard the sound of a faucet turning, the rush of water. She stayed standing, staring out the window. Mihai had pulled back the drapes. It started to snow again and she pressed her hand against the cold glass. She would have turned to ice if Mihai had left her in the ditch. Snow meant it must be below freezing. She would have gotten her wish.

  She didn’t hear Mihai calling her name again until he’d come in front of her and taken her by the shoulders again. “Tsura.”

  She lifted her gaze to his chin, his mouth. She wouldn’t look into his eyes. His voice dimmed into a background buzz again.

  “Damn it.” He dropped down and slipped her shoes and then her thin socks off. “Christ, you’re freezing. Get in the bath. Tsura, are you listening to me? You need to get in the bath now. I’ll close the door. Then you need to take off your dress and get under the water. Tsura, do you understand me?”

  Tsura walked woodenly toward the bathroom to stop the talking. She stepped inside. The door closed after her. She stared blankly at the steamed up mirror for a moment, wondering what she was doing here. A dripping tub faucet drew her attention down. Oh right. There had been instructions. She stepped into the bath full of water.

  It hit her with a shock, blinking her out of her numbness. Hot. Too hot. Or maybe she was too cold. She sat down in the tub without undressing. The hot water hit her freezing skin like the sting of a thousand needles. She gasped. And then suddenly the cloud that had dropped over her head cleared.

  Luca was dead.

  Andrei was gone. He had chosen someone else. He did not love her and maybe he never had. She had believed lies, built her life on his lies, given her body to his lies.

  And Luca was gone from this world.

  There was nothing left for her. The water was heavy. No, that was her dress. The water soaking it dragged her down. She looked at the small tub. Not deep enough to really do the job. Then she flicked her eyes to the razor blade neatly perched on the counter beside the sink.

  She lifted up on her knees. Water sloshed out of the tub as she reached for the blade. She’d been a fool to think lying down on the earth would do the job. Someone could find her there and keep her from resting. Someone had.

  But here there would only the quiet of the empty room and her blood spilling out of her veins into the water. If she cut hard enough, deep enough, it could be done before Mihai realized what was happening. She could finish what should have been accomplished long ago.

  Don’t finish what they started, Tsura, don’t let them win. That was what Luca had said to her after the attack that had left her broken and her womb shattered. When she’d wanted to sew heavy boulders inside the hem of her skirts that would drag her to the deepest part of the sea.

  Swear to me that you’ll survive, Tsura, swear it. No matter the cost. Swear to me my soul will live.

  The words he’d said to her only days ago. They hit her like a brick to the chest and she sank down in the tub, gripping the razor blade so tightly in her fingers that she bled. What if souls weren’t eternal? What if the only way for Luca to live on, for his soul to endure, was for her to continue to live?

  “It wasn’t fair of you to ask that!” she bellowed, sliding down in the tub so quickly that it made a wave of water slosh over the
sides. “How could you ask it?”

  The bathroom door banged open.

  “Fuck it, Tsura!”

  Mihai rushed over and carefully pried the blade out of her hands and threw it in the sink. He loomed over her body where she shook in the water. He swore again.

  “What were you thinking?” Then he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out. He opened them again and grabbed her hand. “Christ. It’s not deep at least.”

  She stared mutely at the wall.

  “You didn’t even undress. You’ve got to get clean.” He bent over her, ignoring the water sloshing over him as he reached underneath her armpits and lifted her until she was standing. “Take off your dress. You have to wash.”

  He let her go and turned around.

  She could only stand, unsure if she was glad or furious that he’d come in and taken away her choice. But then, Luca’s promise gave no room for choice, did it? Oh God, Luca— And then it was too much, too much, TOO MUCH, and then—

  Nothing.

  Sound went first. All the noises in the bathroom, the dripping water from her dress and the loose faucet, the hum of the radiator, all of it muted to a dull roar. Then her peripheral vision narrowed and while she blankly stared at Mihai, it was sightless.

  Blank.

  There was nothing.

  She stood.

  Water dripped from her hair onto her face. She didn’t feel it. She observed it happening like she was outside her body.

  She wasn’t hot or cold. She wasn’t anything at all.

  She continued standing.

  Finally Mihai turned around again. “Christ, Tsura.” He ran a hand down his face, then stepped closer. He let out a disbelieving sigh, then unbuttoned the top of her dress and slid it off over her hips.

  “Step out,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

  That she could do.

  She obeyed, and he pulled the muddy sodden dress off all the way and laid it on the sink, leaving her in her brassiere and underwear. “Now wash your hair and your face.”

  She stared at him again, standing motionless.

  He swore under his breath and put pressure on her shoulders, urging her to sit. He sat on the edge of the tub, ignoring the fact that his own clothes were half-soaked with water, and rubbed a bar of soap in his hands until he had lathered them. Then he began to work the soap through Tsura’s hair. She drooped into his touch, angling her body so that she could put her cheek onto his thigh.

  She was so tired.

  For all the harshness of his swear words, his hands were gentle, massaging the back of her head as he worked the soap through her hair. And when he touched her, all thoughts were suspended. Different from the blankness of a few moments ago, though. She felt pulled back from that absolute emptiness. This felt safer, somehow. She wasn’t afraid, but she didn’t have to think either. It was such a relief to give control over to Mihai. His hands were warm and sure on her scalp. She relaxed into his touch.

  She concentrated only on his hands as he washed her face and shoulders, under her arms, her stomach, down her legs. He didn’t touch the parts of her body still covered by the thin fabrics of her underclothes.

  It was a relief to have the rest of the world drop away like this, to only be an animal in animal skins. She felt bereft the moment Mihai’s hands left her body. He pulled the plug in the tub. Brown, muddy water mixed with soap bubbles swirled down the drain.

  When Mihai moved to pull away from Tsura, she immediately reached out and grabbed for his arm, needing the contact back.

  “You need to dry yourself,” he said, his voice gravelly. He kept his face turned away from her, crouched awkwardly mid-stand from where from he’d been perched on the edge of the tub. Tsura was still sitting. She rose to stand, allowing him to stand as well though now he turned his body away from her completely.

  She said nothing but cinched her fingers tighter around his arm. He didn’t move for a long moment and then reached for the towel with his free hand. He took a deep breath and then turned back to her. He kept his eyes averted and started at her head, drying her hair. He moved quickly down her body, much quicker than the bath had been and without the finesse. Tsura was still glad of his proximity. She wanted to breathe him in. To inhale him until he was so close, he was underneath her skin.

  As he came back up her body with the towel, drying her thighs and then her stomach, Tsura reached out her left palm and placed it on his neck, right over his pulse. She didn’t know why she did it. But as soon as she made contact, she felt fully reconnected to her own body. And to him. She saw the lie now. Luca was not her only connection to this man.

  It was then she looked at him. Really looked at him. The wet clothes plastered against his body. The way his pants didn’t seem to fit right. How they bulged out in front.

  “Fuck it,” the harsh curse came from Mihai’s mouth again, when he saw where she was looking. He took a step back from her. But she immediately put a foot out of the bath and followed. She molded her body until it was pressed tight against his. Yes, it was what she’d thought. He felt like Andrei did against her stomach when he wanted her.

  Mihai wanted her like that.

  The realization was a shock to her, but then in the next second she abandoned thought again. She needed him to touch her. That was all she knew. Suddenly she was burning to be touched again. In all kinds of ways.

  She reached around and undid her bra, then pulled it off her shoulders. It dropped to the ground. She watched Mihai’s face. His eyes dropped as if they couldn’t help themselves. He stared at her naked breasts for a single moment, pupils widening before he ripped himself back from her in a stumbling step and then flung open the bathroom door. He fled back into the central room.

  “Wrap yourself in a towel and get underneath the sheets, Tsura.” His voice was wrong, high-pitched, almost strangled sounding.

  Tsura followed him. Calm. Single-minded.

  Mihai looked like he wanted to bolt out the door and run out of the inn, but his clothes were soaked. Like her, he had nothing else to wear. They’d left their belongings at his grandfather’s house when they went to look for Andrei. Andrei. The name sent another slicing pain through her chest. There was only one way to stop the pain, to stop the thoughts. She pushed down her underwear and then stepped out of them. Mihai swung around so that his back was to her, but she could see that he was shaking.

  “Put the towel around yourself and get underneath the blanket. Get some rest. We’ll go home in the morning.” He leaned a hand against the wall as if to steady himself.

  Tsura continued moving forward. Her feet were quiet on the rug, but, as if he could sense her growing closer, Mihai’s muscles visibly tensed with every step she took.

  She curled her body against his back, ignoring the cold of his wet shirt. She rubbed against him, her hips against his backside.

  “Christ, Tsura,” he bit out, “You’re Luca’s little sister.”

  “Luca’s dead.” Her voice was flat. “And you promised, you promised to give me whatever I need. I need this.”

  She moved around to the front of his body, between him and the wall. She glanced down at the front of his pants again. Good. She wasn’t asking for anything he didn’t want. She began to unbutton his sodden shirt. He stood unmoving like a statue, one hand still on the wall, staring fixedly at some point above her head. His jaw was so tense she wondered that his teeth weren’t grinding themselves to bits.

  “Stop this right now.” His gray eyes finally flashed down and met hers. “I refuse to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable.”

  Her hands stilled on the buttons. “You refuse?”

  Sudden anger lit her body, so hot after the numbing cold. She shoved him hard in the chest. “You refuse? Your body isn’t refusing. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a woman and you know it.” She shoved against his chest again, not that it seemed to faze him. He stood as still as marble, as immovable as a mountain. “But oh that’s right, I forgot, Mihai is so st
rong he never feels anything!” she shouted. “He’s not like normal people. He might as well be made of stone. He doesn’t need comfort. He doesn’t need the touch of a woman. He needs nothing!”

  She shoved again, giving a grunt of fury that she couldn’t so much as jostle him. She began to beat at him with her fists until he grabbed both wrists in a single large hand. She struggled against him, furious that he could best her so easily, that she was nothing more to him than a gnat biting at a bear.

  No, she was more than a gnat. She went slack in his arms. Then, right when he let his guard down, she struck out with her whole body. She’d taken him by surprise and toppled his center of balance, knocking him backwards. He held her to him as he fell, protecting her from the impact.

  She landed on top of him, limbs splayed. His need for her was as clear as ever by her thigh. She rubbed herself against him.

  “Tsura,” he growled, flipping their bodies so that her back was on the ground, his body suspended over hers so that no part of them touched. He braced his hands on either side of her face. A vein stood out in his forehead, his eyes resolutely shut. But still he didn’t move. The anger in her chest was burned away by another sensation, one hotter than fury. She moved her hands from her sides and simply touched his face, cupping both of his cheeks. His startled grey eyes flashed open at the contact. His jaw was still clenched so tight, he spoke through his teeth. “Are you pretending I’m him?”

  “No,” she said in surprise. The size of Mihai’s body as it hovered over hers, the width of his shoulders, and more than that, his mere overwhelming presence—there was no way to pretend one man was the other.

  “Are you using me to exorcize him from your body then?”

  She growled in frustration. Why did he keep on with these words, trying to force thoughts back into her head? “I don’t know!” she finally cried. “All I know is that I need you. Please, Mihai,” she whispered, hating the tears that gathered at the edges of her eyes. “I need this.”

  She reached for him again, but this time it was Mihai’s turn to growl. He captured her hands and pinned them over her head against the rug.

  “And all that matters is what you need, is that right?” His voice was low and angry. His eyes flashed. “You aren’t the only one who lost him. Luca was my brother for almost as many years as he was yours!”

  Tsura blinked back her tears, going limp at his words. The tidal wave of grief swept in again. Reality again. Luca was gone. They’d both lost someone irreplaceable and she was foolish, not to mention selfish, to want to hide from it even for a moment.

  He groaned low in his throat. “Oh, fuck it,” he snarled. She’d never heard him use that harsh word before tonight, but here he was now, using it over and over again. This time when he looked at her, his grey eyes weren’t cold stone or even steel. They were molten.

  He ducked his head and she saw what he meant to do. He was going to kiss her. Her mouth. But while she wanted this, needed it, his mouth on hers seemed to make too intimate what she wanted to be an animal moment. She grabbed his head and forced him lower, to her breast. He did not hesitate and the shock of his eager mouth was like an electric surge. Andrei had never… they’d always kept most of their clothes on. He’d only touched her there. But never kissed her. And the feel of Mihai’s mouth on her skin, the slightly rough grain of the whiskers on his cheek he hadn’t shaved, combined with the soft, warm tugging of his mouth. She gasped at all the sensations it sent running like a flurry through her body.

  She tunneled her fingers into his hair, all thought blessedly gone again other than the feel of his body against hers, his mouth. She knew it would be over so soon.

  He dropped his body low against hers, rubbing himself against her through his pants. That felt good. So good. Soon he would unzip his pants and press her into the rug and then soon, oh too soon, he would be gone and she’d be left empty again. But she’d take what she could, and maybe he’d hold her afterwards. As long as his skin was touching hers, no other thought could intrude.

  Instead of what she expected though, he pulled back and took her up in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her in the center. Then he stood up and took a step back from her. She wanted to whine in frustration. Had he changed his mind again? Was he going to leave her here to rest and go read some deviled book in the corner, ignoring her?

  As if reading what she was thinking, he laughed, a low, almost self-mocking laugh. “I’m no saint.” He began to undo his bathwater soaked trousers, pulling them off. The underwear he wore was a longer style than most, but seeing Mihai so exposed seemed doubly wanton. Her breath hitched and she rubbed her thighs together, squirming.

  “I’ll stop anytime you say stop.” He sat down on the bed beside her and put a hand on her cheek, his eyes searching hers. Was this Mihai? Who was this soft-eyed stranger? “Is that what you want? Do you want me to stop?”

  Tsura glanced from his eyes to his half opened shirt. Thick black hair covered his chest. So different from Andrei. She reached out and ran her fingers through it, then looked back up into his eyes. The eyes of the man she knew so well, and yet suddenly wondered if she knew at all. This had begun as a way to forget, to pull her mind out of her body for awhile. But now, with him looking at her like that… she squeezed her eyes shut. No more thoughts. He felt so good underneath her fingertips. That was all she needed to know.

  “Don’t stop.”

  In an instant her back was pressed into the mattress and his body was over hers again. He angled for her mouth and again she drew him down, this time to her neck. He suckled there and her breath hitched. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He was so broad. She ran her hands down to his shoulder-blades, then up over his shoulders again to his chest. A shudder went through his body at her touch. She tried to pull off his shirt which only had the three top buttons undone, but his hands stilled her. So she touched him where she could over the fabric, hands running across his chest, then down his ribs. He squirmed and laughed, pulling away.

  “You’re ticklish?” she said with disbelief. The great and mighty Mihai, ticklish?

  “Yes,” was his only answer, as he resumed kissing his way down her neck, across her collarbone, lower. He bypassed her breasts this time and kissed down her stomach. She gasped when she realized where he was going.

  “Mihai wait,” her hands caught his hair.

  He looked up at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. Just…not there.”

  He laughed again, a low chuckle in his throat. A carefree sound, nothing like anything she’d ever heard before. “If you don’t want me to stop, then I’ll go, and go where I want.”

  And he did. The things he did… Tsura couldn’t even bring herself to think about what he was doing, even in the quiet of her own head. So she let his touch and his tongue silence all thought. Not thinking was suddenly very easy as sensations she’d never felt before made her body break into sweat all over, and then grow frustrated, uncomfortable, anxious and writhing and needing, something she couldn’t put into words, if she’d ever had words for it.

  But Mihai seemed to know what she needed. He continued with his mouth and then his fingers until the liquid sensation in her stomach flared furiously hot and went shooting to all of her limbs in a single great sparking shudder.

  Her back arched and her hips jutted as a gasping, high-pitched cry broke from her throat. And then she sank back into the mattress, her breathing coming in quick shallow pants. It was so beautiful, such a pure feeling of satiation in the few breaths after, as if all wanting was gone forever.

  Mihai moved now, kissing her stomach gently, murmuring low words that she couldn’t fully hear but didn’t think were Romanian. He whispered over her body so reverently, as if she were a precious thing. Perhaps that was what finally broke the dam.

  Thought rushed in again. Why did such beauty and such pain exist side by side? Why God, did you make the world this way? It was all too much, the heights and the d
epths. Why God, oh why make the human heart only so it could burst and break? Death, betrayal, side by side with that body-shattering euphoria? Why? It was too much. None of it made any sense.

  A great tearing sob came out of her. She rolled away from Mihai but his strong arms wrapped around her from behind, tucking her close, her back to his chest.

  She scratched and clawed to get away from him, but he only held her tighter as the sobs came so hard she could barely breathe. It had turned dark outside and there was no light on in the room. Finally he released her but only long enough so he could flip her around and tuck her naked body to his chest, skin to skin, like a mother to a child.

  His arousal, unsurprisingly, was gone, and that made her cry harder, because he hadn’t even gotten his release. His chin rested on top of her head and he stroked her hair back from her face as she screamed and howled her grief into his shoulder.

  He continued holding her even as her sobs eventually turned to hiccupping gulps. He gave her the edge of the sheet to help her wipe her nose, refusing to let go of her to go find a handkerchief. She was glad he hadn’t, because part of her was sure she’d shatter if he wasn’t there to hold her together.

  Sometime later she must have fallen asleep because when she woke, the thinnest morning light filtered in through the grimy window. She was still wrapped in Mihai’s arms. Her arm was slung around his stomach, her thigh wedged between his, her head on his chest. One of his heavy arms was slung across her waist and the weight and comfort of it felt good, so, so good.

  Which suddenly made her feel so, so wrong.

  She tensed and withdrew from him, wriggling each of her limbs away from his as if burned by his touch. Mihai’s eyes fluttered open. “Tsura? Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she said, and then curled into herself with her back to him, eyes closed. He put a hand to her shoulder blade. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

  “I’m going to take a bath,” he said, his voice still soft, still so unlike the man she thought she’d known. “Sleep as long as you want, then we’ll go home.” He put a hand to the small of her back and then she felt the bed shift and there was the creak of springs. He walked back and forth around the room several times.

  After she heard the bathroom door close and the noise of the bathwater turn on, Tsura waited some more. Only when the water stopped and she felt confident Mihai was in the tub did she slip as quietly as she could out from beneath the sheet.

  She tiptoed to get the underclothes and dress that were set out on the radiator. Mihai’s thoughtfulness, no doubt, to help it dry. At least the brief dunking in the bath had gotten some of the larger chunks of mud off of it. It was still slightly damp, but she pulled it on anyway. Mechanically, she ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed it back from her face. She put on her muddy socks and her shoes, and then made the bed and sat on it primly, staring at the wall until Mihai came out with a towel wrapped around his waist and his undershirt on.

  “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” she said, not looking at him. “We’ll go as soon as you’re ready. I’ll be downstairs waiting for you. I think I heard the innkeeper’s wife say she laid out bread and coffee for breakfast.”

  “Just wait a moment and I’ll come with you.”

  “It’s fine,” Tsura said, “I’ll see you there.” Then she skirted out of the room before he could say anything else.

  He joined her for the meager breakfast a few minutes later. He sat in the chair beside her. She angled her body away from his and finished her toast in a few bites. She stood, waiting for Mihai to finish, then put on her coat.

  When they left the inn, Mihai said, “We’ll pick up our things at grandfather’s, then catch the next train.”

  “No,” Tsura said, pausing so sharply that she almost stumbled. She began walking forward again. The inn was off on a smaller sidestreet that ran parallel to the main boulevard, leading to the train station. This was a wealthier section of Bacău where the houses were widely spaced with ornate metal fences and large yards.

  “No, it was only a few things,” she continued. “We don’t need those clothes.” And after another moment, “I don’t want to go back there. If you need to say goodbye to your grandfather, I’ll stay here while you go.”

  “I’ll just call him. I don’t want to leave you alone.” His voice was gentle. Cautious.

  She felt his eyes on her. She didn’t look up, but focused instead on the cobblestones of the street. She’d moved to the middle of the street where there wasn’t as much icy slush like by the edges.

  “Tsura, stop this.” His hand on her elbow brought her to a halt. Still she did not look at him.

  “Look at me.”

  Setting her jaw, she glared at him. “What?”

  “Don’t do this.” His face was all worry and concern. Curves instead of edges. Soft instead of hard. “After last night, we’re beyond it. We both lost Luca. It’s our grief to share.”

  He needed to stop talking. Tsura wanted to put her hands over her ears. Or over his mouth.

  But she didn’t and he kept going. “Our marriage didn’t start conventionally, but we are still bound together. I’ll help you through this.” His large hand reached up to cup her cheek. Tsura flinched, both at the contact and at his words.

  “No,” she spat, moving back from him. “No.”

  Mihai’s eyebrows drew together as he stepped forward, hands up in a placating gesture. Tsura was hurting him but if she didn’t he would keep coming, he would keep trying. His eyes, usually so hard, now glistened. Whatever barriers had come down between them last night, in Mihai’s eyes, were ground to dust.

  But Tsura did not need dust. She needed stone. She needed steel. She wanted the Mihai back that she had always known, the one who didn’t spout feelings or want to help or save her. At least not like this. Didn’t he understand? She was a mirror, and her soul’s reflection had left this earth­­—yet she was still here, broken, splintered shards that could only cut.

  “What are you doing?” she sneered. “Who’s this soft man standing here in front of me? Are those tears in your eyes? Are you going to cry now? What would your father say?”

  This time it was she who advanced on him where he stood frozen in the middle of the road. “Mihai Popescu, the great savior. Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the things you’ve done. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your own words. I’m no fool. I won’t make the mistake of believing you’re a good man.”

  As the fog of her hot breath escaped her mouth, she wanted to catch the words and stuff them back in. Mihai’s back straightened and he became taller. His jaw clenched and his face hardened into mask-like lines, until he was as still as if he was a statue chiseled in the likeness of the gods. He was absolutely rigid.

  There was a moment, just a moment, when Tsura knew she could still take it back. She could’ve lunged forward and pressed her lips to his and told him she didn’t mean any of it, that she was scared, so scared. That she knew he had lost Luca too, his grief was as real as hers, she understood, she understood. She hadn’t meant to drive another knife through his ribs, but nothing made sense and she’d sworn to survive and she didn’t know how to do that in a world with no Luca, no vitsa, nothing left when all she really wanted to do was curl up and die herself.

  But then the moment was gone, and there was the tiniest lift of the left side of Mihai’s lips, half mocking, half cruel. “You have an excellent memory.” He turned and walked away from her. “Let’s go.”

  Tsura felt the weight of his hurt even if he would never admit it. Guilt piled onto her grief. Tsura didn’t move. But because Mihai deserved it, she forced the words out of her throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t come with you.”

  He paused. It seemed a full minute later before he turned around. His face was blank, his question cold. “What?”

  Tsura forced her feet forward but kept her eyes on the ground. “Maybe it’s time to be done with the farce. I should free you. Let you find happiness with someone. I have my fa
lse ID. There’s no reason not to go our separate ways.” She swallowed hard but got out the next words. “Luca no longer binds us together. Nothing does.” She did not cry. There would be no more tears.

  She thought it would be a quiet, dignified parting. Instead, a bark of sharp laughter made her look up. Mihai didn’t laugh often and on the rare occasion he did, it hadn’t sounded like this. Harsh, sarcastic. Dark.

  “Nothing binds us together?” He stepped close, invading her space. “What about the certificate declaring us man and wife? That binds us in any court of law in this fair country of ours.” His voice was clipped but there was an undercurrent energy to it Tsura had never heard before, the same manic darkness that had edged his earlier laughter.

  Then he laced his arm through hers in the manner of lovers on a stroll, but his grip was firm, just short of rough, heading in the direction of the train station. Tsura stumbled a few steps before she caught on to his longer, quick strides.

  “And wouldn’t it look odd,” he continued, with a quieter intensity, “if my wife suddenly deserted me in such a strained political atmosphere? It’s time you paid your dues. My actions up until now have been generous, so you’ll forgive me,” the acerbic bite was clear on the last two words, “if I ask for the farce to continue, at least until I’m sure my current employers won’t drag me from my house to murder me on the street in the middle of the night.”

  Tsura was both deeply saddened by Mihai’s personality regression and relaxed by it. She’d forgotten how talkative he was when he was trying to be cruel. But good, this was what she had wanted. Because she was a terrible person. Then again, she was simply too tired to think anymore. More than anything, though, she was relieved that he had denied her request to part ways and that they were going home now.

  “All right,” she responded and allowed him to lead her to the train station. The trip back to Bucharest was silent. When she got to their apartment, she swallowed one of the sleeping pills the doctor had given her at the hospital after Luca’s death. She went to the bed and Mihai to the couch. She listened to his breathing in the darkened room. It made her ache to hear but not touch him.

  But soon she felt the pull of the sleeping pill and a slow confusing fog settled over her brain like a shroud.

  “Sleep well, my Tsura,” she thought she heard a low, gentle whisper in the darkness. But when she turned toward the voice, that was all there was: darkness and more darkness still, on and on without any light.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a few words in review and some stars at the retailer where you purchased this book.

  The epic conclusion to Tsura and Mihai’s story is available now!

  House of Stone

  $2.99 or FREE with Kindle Unlimited

  Click Here!