Page 32 of Notes About Vodka

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing my bag, I double check to make sure I have her calculator. “See you soon.”

As I walk out, I can’t help but glance back at her one last time. She’s already pulled her work out again and she’s engrossed in her notes, her hair falling over her face as she concentrates. It’s such a simple moment, but it’s enough to make me feel like the luckiest guy alive. As I step into the crisp morning air, I find myself smiling, already looking forward to seeing her again.

Later, when I’m deep into the calculations for my molecular genetics exam, I flip the calculator over, my focus momentarily breaking. That’s when I notice her name etched in careful, slightly faded pen on the inside of the case:Laura Mae Solyn. My lips curve into a grin as I trace theletters with my thumb. It’s such a small thing, yet it feels like a piece of her—simple, unassuming, but undeniably hers.

Without thinking, I pull a Sharpie from my bag. Logic completely deserts me as I write my name next to hers:Val. It feels juvenile, almost ridiculous, but before I can stop myself, I cross out her last name,Solyn. A strange thrill rushes through me as I rewrite it,Zaitseva.

Nu paga de… Well, just wait a moment, because my sunshine… I’ve already trapped you in the rabbit snare.

I lean back, my heart pounding as I stare at what I’ve done. It’s absurd. Childish. And yet, the sight of her name with mine makes my chest feel lighter, like some secret hope has taken root.

For a moment, I laugh at myself, shaking my head.You’re losing it, Val.

But then an idea sparks. When I return the calculator to her later, maybe I’ll leave a note inside the case—a playful comment or a joke about the name change. Something small to make her smile.

I imagine her reaction; the way her eyebrows will arch, the mock frustration that will light up her face, and, hopefully, the soft laugh that always makes my day a little brighter. The thought alone makes the stress of the exam melt away, leaving me grinning like a fool in the middle of the exam.

Chapter Eleven

LAURA

"I used to hate vodka. I drank so many White Russians one night while in college and then became so sick. It took years and a certain White Russian to bring me back to enjoying the flavor, the burn.”

As Val leaves, my mind whirls with conflicting emotions, but guilt isn’t the one dominating anymore. I think I’m finally starting to move past it—past all the lies I told myself to justify staying with Sam, past the shame of not fighting back harder.

Today feels different. It’s not just about what happened yesterday; it’s about deciding that I can’t keep living like this.

Earlier when I first parked at the coffee shop, my lawyer Ronni called. I wanted to answer. I really did, but I didn’t.

There were bruises I had hidden—marks Sam left behind that I couldn’t let Val see. And as much as I needed to talk to Ronni, I really wanted to see Val more.

So, instead of calling her back, I stormed inside.

Maybe that’s why his careless comment about the latte hurt as much as it did. Sure, he made up for it with his usual charm,but did he really? The sting still lingers, a reminder of how fragile I feel right now.How fragile Sam has left me.

Now, with Val gone and the quiet pressing in, I take a deep breath and pull out my phone, dialing, Ronnie Davis.

"Hello, Laura. I'm glad you are returning my phone call. Did you get my message about Sam appealing the divorce down in Lee County?”

“Ronnie, I'm so sorry I missed you earlier. But, I need to talk to you about something that happened yesterday,” I say when she answers. "I know that my message was vague, but I think I finally have the right type of evidence to get rid of Sam for good.."

There’s a pause, then her calm but firm voice comes through. “It was vague, I agree. I know you said you had something important to tell me. I just read the email from the judge and reached out as soon as I could. Tell me, Laura, what happened? Are you okay?”

I hesitate for a moment, my voice catching as I try not to cry.Why am I doing this now? Why not before?

Maybe it’s because Rhea and Skipper already helped me take the first step. They filed the police report, made the appointment at the clinic, even helped me leave the message with Ronnie. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of hiding, of pretending everything is fine when it’s not.

I finally begin, my voice shaking, “Sam… He… He assaulted me yesterday morning. In the kitchen. And I… I didn’t stop him at first. I froze, Ronnie. I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but Skipper stepped in before it got worse. I… I’m so tired of this.” The words tumble out, leaving me breathless and ashamed. My voice shakes, but I force myself to keep talking. “I just froze. I didn’t know what to do.”

Tears start pouring down my cheeks.

Ronnie’s tone shifts, becoming sharper, more protective. “Laura, listen to me. This is not your fault. Do you understand? Have you been checked out by a doctor? Did you already shower? If so, that’s okay, but if you haven’t, you need to go immediately to the student health clinic. You need to go anyways. It’s important for your safety and for any legal action we take.”

“I am going. I have an appointment at the clinic this morning, but I’m waiting for Rhea to finish her first class at nine. She’s coming with me. And yeah, I already showered. I had to wash him off me, I just couldn’t stand it.”

“Hey, its okay. But I’m glad you are going to the clinic, that’s good,” she says, her voice softening slightly. “They will check you over, also, schedule an appointment with your therapist, it will help, too. Okay. I'm glad you have Rhea and Skipper there with you. What about your cousin, James? Or your Dad. I know you don't always see eye to eye, but having support is important. You’re stronger than you think, Laura. One step at a time. Call me after you’ve been to the clinic, and we’ll figure out the next move together.”

“Thank you, Ronnie,” I say, my voice barely audible.

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