Page 56 of Unrequited
Oh god. It could be worse, I remind myself. It could’ve been someone cruel.
That’s something, I guess. I swallow hard, swipe at my eyes, furious with myself for crying. And when I catch my reflection in the mirror, they're not as puffy as I feared. Not great, but not ruined either.
I dress for my wedding.Alone.
What if Paveliscruel? I’ve heard horror stories. We all have. It’s why none of my family will make eye contact with me anymore.
There’s a soft knock at the door. “Yes,” I say, resigned. And Polina slips back in.
Polina, with that blonde hair so long it brushes the top of her butt. With those soft, understanding eyes and that gentle spirit that makes everything feel a little less sharp. “How are you doing?” she asks tenderly, like if she’s careful enough, she might make this bearable.
I only sigh.
“Oh, honey,” she says, settling on the edge of the bed and taking my hand. “You’ve been crying. I’m so sorry.”
Her voice wobbles. “When I tell you that Rafailagonizedover this decision… When I tell you…” She trails off and shakes her head. “You had suitors, you know. Plenty. Men who wanted you. But he went through every single one of them.”
She’s not being dramatic. “He vetted them. We talked, just the two of us. We spoke to their families. We asked the right questions. It was like… they were applying for a job or something.” She lets out a dry laugh, the kind that doesn't reach her eyes. As if that absurd detail is supposed to make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
“He just wanted someone who’d take care of you,” she says softly. “This guy? He will.”
I nod stiffly. “Worked out well for you, didn’t it?” Her marriage to my brother.
She brushes the hair from my eyes, leans in, and kisses my temple. The gesture is small but sincere. “Yes, sweetheart. It did. Itcanwork out, you know,” she continues, coaxing. “Especially when someone’s married to the likes of you.”
“I’ve seen it not work out,” I counter, needing to argue. To push back, just a little. To remind her that this isn’t all hearts and flowers.
Because yes, I’ve been crying. And maybe, just maybe, she’s right about why. She wouldn’t be that far off.
But she can’t know the real reason. No one can.
“All right,” she says gently, shifting back to business. “Your brother said it’s time to get this over with.”
So it’s an early wedding. He didn’t want me to have to sit with it or dwell. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I have these little eye masks you can wear to bring down the puffiness.”
She offers me a soft smile. “All those sleepless nights with babies, I swear by these.”
We stand as she helps me to my feet, our fingers linking briefly. I do look pretty, I’ll admit that much.
And I’m glad. I don’t want to walk in there looking like a forgotten orphan.
“Look at you,” she says with a smile that feels like sunshine. “So beautiful. My god, this dress.”
Itisbeautiful, sleek and elegant in its simplicity.
She shakes her head slowly, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I absolutely love it. All right, show me your shoes.”
I lift my skirt just enough to reveal the rounded toe of my pearly slippers.
“Oh, they’re so pretty. Everything’s beautiful, Zoya. You’re a gorgeous bride.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“All right,” she says. “I’m going downstairs to appease your brother. He’s pacing a hole into the rug. I’ll tell him you’re getting ready and that you’ll be down soon. Do you want anything to eat? Drink?”
“I’m good.”
