Omerta

Chapter 66

        When Mikhail and I were 16 we had already been dating for a little while. I've known Mikhail since I was about five and I looked like that little doll they call me. I'd only see him once in a while when my dad would go on his 'vacations' in Europe, and at the time he barely understood English yet, so we'd communicate in funny ways. Kids somehow always know how to understand each other and play like easy friends in a way adults can't. 

Sometimes we'd hold items up in a silent way of saying 'how do you say this' and Mikhail would tell me the Russian word, and I'd teach him the English. Sometimes we'd just babble in our own languages, but still were playing with my dolls and his action figures. He knew how to make me smile.

        When we were about 10 years old Mikhail could speak much better English, and we were penpals for a while, so he could practice his English writing and reading. His father always intended for Mikhail to run some of the business here. He wanted him to be fluent. Being pen pals was also a way to just keep in touch as kids on opposite sides of the ocean. I still have several of those letters stashed away with my personal items. I was glad when he told me recently that he'd done the same.

We actually pulled them out and laid them across our bed to reread them and laugh at ourselves. We talked about the stupidest things. I told him how I got an A on my science test that week and he'd tell me he had a new toy or something. It was just meaningless babble, but it didn't feel like it at the time. 

The one letter that I kept most especially was the one where he told me I was pretty and that he'd wanna marry me when we are big. "See, I've always known," he grinned at me while we read them. He kissed my temple and I did feel love at that moment. Maybe not passionately consuming love, but content with a long time lover and friend.

        When we were 15 Mikhail moved to America, and shortly after that was when we started our real relationship. He was my first and only boyfriend. We dated until he had to move back to Russia at 18 years old, and we were both pretty broken up about it. I missed him, but I knew my path was set to being his betrothed, so it never really felt like goodbyes for us. Just those same breaks we had since we were five, seeing each other only once or twice a year.

I lost my virginity to Mikhail at 17 years old when I was finally brave enough to try things more serious than our heavy petting and some hand stuff. He never pushed me, but he did love getting hand jobs from me whenever he could. 

After I lost my virginity we had a lot of sex. I realized how much I liked it, and Mikhail was good at what he did. I think he might've been with girls in Russian before, even though he left at 15. He just seemed more knowledgeable than I was, but I picked it up quickly.

        Only when I slept with Nick did I know anything different from the body of Mikhail. Nick is excellent in bed, and it blinds you to all his wrong doings, and sucks you in below the surface you don't even realize you're drowning in. SNAP. I pulled the rubber band around my wrist to stop my thoughts of Nick.

        Now we are in our 20's and we're engaged. We knew this would come, and now that it was here it was....expected, except for one fact. I didn't think I would ever have feelings for anyone else. SNAP. Looking down at my marquise cut diamond which sparkles in the light...it's a beautiful lie. When I felt the body of the man I was going to marry beside me it felt expected, but maybe not entirely right. SNAP.

Mikhail's soft hands glided down my side and I knew what he woke up wanting. "You're always so soft, moy tsvetok," he whispered in my ear to make me shiver by his low rumble of a voice. His morning voice from having just woken up. "What's that mean?" I was curious. I'd yet to turn around and face him because his fingertips felt good teasing my flesh, down my side, and across my thigh.