Page 23 of Wicked Vow

“Box dye,” I tell her shame-facedly. “I know, I know. Can you fix it?”

“Maybe.” She purses her lips. “You’re a natural blonde?”

I nod. “Just–whatever you can do to try to get it back to a more natural shade. Maybe some balayage? I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job. I trust you.”

Her expression eases a little at that. “I’ll do my best,” she says, and drops the piece of my hair she was holding, disappearing through a door to do whatever alchemy will hopefully fix the disaster I wreaked on my hair.

Two hours later, I look in the mirror and feel as if I’m on the verge of tears–in a good way. I look like myself again, my hair back to the soft honey shade that it used to be with other tones woven in, all traces of the old black dye and the ugly orangey hue of the bleached hair gone. It makes me feel as if all that time hiding was nothing but a bad dream. As if my shitty apartment and dancing at the club and all those nights of being tired and afraid have vanished.

Caterina has massages booked for all three of us. When we emerge again, feeling loose-limbed and a little sleepy, she herds us in the direction of clothing stores–Chanel, Dior, Gucci. Ruby looks a little bit like she might faint, and I give her a pointed look to remind her of what we talked about earlier–not to protest too much. I don’t want to hurt Caterina’s feelings, not when she’s being so generous. But I also know Ruby hasneverlived like this. It feels like a princess makeover to her, not a reminder of what used to be the way it does for me.

“Someone will have selected some items for you to try on,” Caterina says when we walk in. “But feel free to look around and see if there’s anything else you like.”

Ruby looks anxious as she glances around the store. “I don’t know how much of this is really my style. I like more–edgy clothes, I guess? Alternative, or whatever they’re calling it? I don’t know; I shopped at thrift stores.”

“You might like Vivienne Westwood or Altazurra more.” I look over at Caterina. “I’ll ask her if we can stop at a couple of those places? So we can find things that you’ll like more. And in the meantime, just try it on. It’ll be fun. You love trying on clothes.”

Ruby’s face softens a little as I see her relax just a tiny bit more. “You’re right, I do. And thank you.”

By the time I’ve asked Caterina about stopping at a few other places for Ruby, which she agrees to immediately, we’re being ushered back to the dressing rooms, where there’s champagne and charcuterie laid out, and racks full of clothes. Ruby has that overwhelmed look on her face again, so I pluck a few pieces off of her rack and shuffle her into a dressing room before looking at my own.

It feels good to put on beautiful clothes again and choose things I like, instead of dressing to try to hide myself. I always liked sleek, elegant pieces, and with my hair freshly colored and styled, my face still glowing from the products that the esthetician used when we got our massages and facials, I feel like an entirely new person–an upgraded version, even, of the girl I was before I’d been on the run. I feel like I can breathe.

But I can’t help wondering, as I put on a red trenchcoat dress over an ivory silk slip below it, what Mikhail would think. If he’d like my new wardrobe, how quickly he’d take it off of me, the sound of his rough voice in my ear murmuring how much better he likes me naked, how if I was a bad girl, he might just keep me that way.

The games we’d played would have been so much more fun with lower stakes.

A shiver runs down my spine, a faint ache running through me. I could never admit to anyone that I miss him, that the problem hadn’t been all of the things we’d done so much as the fact that there had never been a safe word, never a time when I could ask him to stop, to let me adjust, to let me come to terms with the things he made me want. And Ihadwanted so much of it, despite myself.

Caterina knocks on the dressing room door, and I open it up, letting her see. “You look beautiful!” she exclaims. I turn to look in the mirror again, smoothing my hands over the silky cotton of the sleeveless dress.

“I feel bad, buying a whole new wardrobe when I won’t fit in it soon.” I look at her in the mirror, over my shoulder. “It feels like a waste.”

Caterina slips into the dressing room next to me, closing the door as she leans back against the wall. “Depending on what you buy, a lot of it will fit you for well into your pregnancy,” she says casually. “But does that mean you’ve made a decision? You don’t need to feel rushed, you know. It’s all very soon for you. I thought it might be best to just treat it as if it weren’t an issue right now, so you didn’t feel pressured.”

“I appreciate that. I really do.” I look at her gratefully as I sink down onto the cushioned bench on one side of the room. “I haven’t made a decision, no. I feel like I’m swaying in one direction, but who knows how I’ll feel once I’ve thought about it more? It’s not easy.”

“No, I can’t imagine that it is.” Caterina looks at me sympathetically. “It was a shock, you know, having stepdaughters right away. I’d always known I would be expected to have children, of course, just as I’m sure you did. But coming into a marriage with two children that were already school-age–was harder than I’d thought. I’d always imagined I’d have time to get used to having my own child and grow into being a mother as they got older. But it felt like being thrown directly into it. Anika wasn’t too fond of me at first, either,” she adds with a laugh. “Of course, I know it’s not the same thing at all. But that feeling of shock, of being unprepared–I can relate to it, a little.”

“It worked out, though, right? In the end?” I let out a nervous laugh. “You’re happy, I can tell. So it was all okay?”

“It was. But like I said before, not without a struggle.” Caterina smiles lopsidedly at me. “It was hard, Natalia. All of it was. Viktor and I had to fight for our happy family. And itishappy, now. But there were times when it wasn’t. When I wasn’t sure that he’d ever be the man I needed him to be or that his children would ever love me.”

“So what’s your advice, then?” I knot my fingers together in my lap, feeling that cold anxiety creep down my spine again. My entire life has changed so quickly, and I have no idea what to do next.

“Decide whatyouwant,” Caterina says firmly. “Envision what you want for your life, what the future that makesyouhappy looks like. If anyone else wants to be a part of that, they’ll have to be happy with it too, and be the kind of person who facilitates it. If not, no matter how much it hurts, you have to keep them at arm’s length.”

Caterina doesn’t say Mikhail’s name, not even once. But from the way she looks at me as she speaks and the emphasis on her words, I think she has some idea of what I’m feeling.

She’s a woman who belonged to a violent man, too. Who fell in love with him and the things he made her feel. It makes sense that she would recognize it in me, as well.

The problem is–I don’t know yet what would make me happy. And as for Mikhail–

I don’t know if he could ever be the man who could give that to me.

Natalia

By the time we return from the day of shopping, it’s nearly dusk, and we’re all tired. The car is crammed with bags–clothes, shoes, even a Chanel purse for me and a studded Valentino for Ruby, which she fell in love with instantly. I knew she did because she didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as I’d expected when Caterina insisted on purchasing it.

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