Chapter Seven

The return to Moscow brings about a swirl of emotions in my stomach.

Is there a way to erase this from my life and go back to how things were? How am I supposed to feel comfortable with my husband's hands touching me?

Dear God, please help me mend the brokenness I feel inside.

The entire flight home, Lenya has been talking with Ilya and Oleg about how he wants Ivan to suffer. Lenya explained to me that when they followed Ivan to the dacha, they didn't kill him. Although I try not to listen to all the gruesome details, I find it better to hear my husband list all the ways Ivan will suffer rather than succumbing to the spiral that is trying to claim me. My thoughts are a pitch-black abyss, beckoning me to fall into its depths. The memories of Ivan and Simeon's brutal attacks continue to haunt me.

I will not let myself fall into despair.

I don't want to be the victim forever.

The mere thought of their touch still sends shivers down my spine. Lenya's touch is something I long for. I long for his hands to replace every memory of Ivan and Simeon's touch. His lips to kiss every cut and bruise. I desire for him to reclaim all that was taken from me and our relationship. Looking out the window, I know we are nearly home. The snowy landscape has turned to the twinkling lights of Moscow.

Lenya catches my reflection in the window. The sadness that is present in my own eyes is also present in his, showing the deep connection between us. He reaches for me and pulls me against his chest, surrounding us with a blanket. His lips touch my ear and in a barely audible whisper, he says, "You are not alone in this Tsvetok (Flower). I promise. You let me take care of this, alright? When we get home, you need your rest." The tears run down my face, and I try to wipe them away. I bury my face into his chest, inhaling his scent. Familiarizing myself again with him.

"There is no shame in crying, malyshka (baby). We all see you as nothing less than a lioness."

I look up from his chest, and Oleg has a smile on his face. Ilya sits across from him, nodding his head at the words.

"When we get home, if you want to talk, we can. But not until after you have a bath." Lenya says softly, kissing the top of my head.

I feel his warmth surrounding me like a protective shield, and I remain nestled into his chest for the rest of the flight back home.

We touch down at a small airfield on the outskirts of Moscow. Cars are already waiting for us there, ready to take us home. Once we are in the car, Lenya continues to hold me against him, never letting me go. There"s a fear in him as if I might be taken away again. The forty-five minute drive flies by. As we pull up in front of the house, I see a few unknown cars scattered across the driveway.

"Who are these people?" I ask, feeling uneasy as I gesture to the men outside.

"Men from the Bratva. They have been taking care of the property, cleaning it and making sure that everything runs smoothly in my absence. They are loyal to me, Tsvetok (Flower). Loyal to you." Before exiting the car, he brings my hands to his lips and kisses them. "You know, I've loved you from the moment I first laid my eyes on you. I felt your absence in every part of my being. I never want to experience that feeling again."

The twins exit the car and Oleg opens the passenger door for us. Lenya steps out, and I scoot over the seat. Leaning down, he picks me up and carries me covered in a blanket into our home. He heads down the hallway into our room. Once inside, I look around. It's clean, and the doors to his office are closed.

He carries me to the bathroom. I can feel his strong arms supporting me. He walks over to the tub. To be honest, I've never been a fan of the bathtub; I much prefer our shower. He lets the water run for a few moments, leaving it running to grab towels. He places them next to me and heads to the closet to grab fresh clothes.

"Give me just a moment, Tsvetok (Flower). I'll be right back," he says as he leaves the room. I hear muffled voices, but nothing is discernible over the sound of the running water. I look around our bathroom, and take it all in. I"m home. It almost feels like a dream. He re-enters the room and shuts the door.

"Can you lock the door, please?" I ask, my voice but a whisper.

He returns to the door and locks it. "I'll keep you safe, Lina," Lenya says, pain in his tone as he crouches in front of me with tears in his eyes. "I love you so fucking much, and it hurts me to see you like this. Tell me what you need from me, malyshka (baby)? I will do whatever you ask of me."

"Get in with me," I motion to the tub.

"I can do that." He nods with a pained smile on his face.

The act of undressing feels shameful. The thought of allowing Lenya to see all the bruises and cuts that mark my skin hurts my heart. He motions for me to raise my arms, and as he pulls the shirt over my head, the bruises in various stages of healing catch his attention. "YA ub'yu yego chert voz'mi. (I'm going to fucking kill him.)" He mumbles under his breath in Russian. I stand before the tub of hot water, and step in. Lenya helps me down and I sit there with my knees bent. He steps back and starts undressing himself. He leaves his underwear on. I stop him before he can climb in.

"Those too, moy lev (my lion)," I say, motioning to his boxer briefs.

It appears he was mentally preparing himself for something unpleasant as he wore a guarded expression on his face. "I don't want to upset you or make you uncomfortable," he says, his voice gentle.

"I know you are not Ivan or Simeon. You're not going to try to initiate sex right now, will you?" Lenya shakes his head. "Underwear off then, muzh (husband)." He smirks at me, then pulls them down.

I hesitate to touch him, fearing it might lead to something I"m not prepared for. I move forward to make space for him to sit behind me. As soon as he takes his place, I lean back and find comfort in resting against his chest.

The moment his arms envelop me, I am filled with a comforting and secure feeling. His embrace has always been my safe haven. With a gentle touch, Lenya leans into my neck and places a delicate sequence of soft kisses down and across my shoulders. The kisses he places on my body perfectly matched to each of the bruises that Ivan"s fingers had left on my skin.

Amidst the tranquility of the bath, I find solace in the tangible heat of his body, which is closely nestled against mine. The memories of Ivan are no longer present in my mind, even if it's only fora moment. It's just Lenya and Lina. Soon our malysh (baby) will join us. It will be the three of us. I still can't believe we are having a baby. My hands splay across my belly, yearning to hold this life we"ve created.

Lenya's hand moves to cover mine. "I looked in the envelope." His voice is a whisper against my ear. "I needed a little light to help me through all the darkness. I hope you can forgive me."

"Tak u nas budet mal'chik ili devochka?(So are we having a boy or a girl?)" I chuckle.

"Malen'kiy mal'chik. (A little boy)" Lenya says.

With great care, Lenya dedicates time to wash me, and the soap he uses leaves behind a subtle fragrance of cypress and lavender on my skin. The feel of his hands caressing my body is a welcomed gift. I don't pull away from him as I would have expected myself to. If anything I find myself leaning more into his touch.

We lay in the hot water until it chills. "Is it okay to stay like this a little longer? I just want you to hold me." I say, grabbing at his elbow, and pulling his arms tighter around me.

He kisses the top of my head. "I will hold you for as long as you want, Tsvetok. Forever if you need me to."

Lenya turns the hot water back on, replacing some of the cold. He leans me back into his chest and does something I don't expect. He sings to our syn (son). With his hands cradling my belly, he sings The Cossack Lullaby. Right now, I love his voice more than ever before. His deep voice softens to sing, "Spi, malyutka, bud' spokoyen, Bayushki-bayu.(Sleep, my little one, be calm. Lullaby a-bye.)"

We let the water cool again, then he motions for me to scoot forward. He climbs out of the tub and wraps a towel around his waist. He holds out his arms for me and lifts me out. Holding a towel, he wraps me up and dries me off. Lenya grabs the clothes from the bench.

"Arms up, malyshka (baby)," he orders softly, and I raise my arms as he pulls one of his shirts over my head. It even smells like him, his familiar sandalwood and shea scent fill my nose as I breathe it in. "I've been sleeping with it since…" his voice cracks as he tries to say since I was taken, the pain is still fresh in his mind. He clears his throat and crouches down to pull up some underwear. With Ivan, I didn't have the privilege of wearing underwear. He took pleasure in knowing that I was at his disposal whenever he wanted me. These are a much welcomed gift, I will never take underwear for granted again.

Lenya slips on a clean pair of his boxer briefs and pulls on a pair of joggers. He lifts me off the ground, carrying me, and lays me in our soft bed. Our bed. How I have missed this bed. I stretch out on the covers. Burying my face in our pillows. Memories flood back, each one bringing a smile to my face.

The light goes out, and Lenya climbs into the bed behind me. He pulls me back into his chest. His arms, a protective force, surround my belly. He quietly says aloud, "Moy malen'kiy syn. Tvoy papa zdes'. YA obeshchayu vsegda zashchishchat' tebya i mamu. Tebe nikogda ne pridetsya boyat'sya, ved' tvoy papa — svirepyy lev, kotoryy vsegda zashchishchayet svoyu sem'yu.(My little son. Your daddy is here. I promise to always protect you and mama. You will never have to fear, for your daddy is a fierce lion who always protects his family.)"

The tears come without warning as we lay there in the dark. His arms envelop me, and I feel his lips brush against my ear. "Shh, it's okay, malyshka (baby), I'm here. It's not a bad thing to cry. It strengthens you in the end, I think." His words are so reassuring. After a brief pause, he whispers, "Will you tell me now? There is no pressure, so take as much time as you need. But, I have to know, Tsvetok (Flower)."

I stiffen against him and wonder if I have the strength to tell him. It will break his heart. After taking a moment to contemplate, I turn my body towards him in the darkness.

"Are you sure you want to know, moy lev (my lion)? The things Ivan and Simeon did to me…" I struggle to find the words to describe what they did to me.

"If you feel safe and comfortable, tell me, just lay it all out. I can take it."

Before I delve into Ivan"s brutality, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I am about to say.

"As soon as your father left the room, Ivan wasted no time in his slow torture. I was tied to a chair with my hands bound behind my back and my feet tied to each leg. At that point, I was still clothed. He told me he was going to show me all the ways he was better than you. It started with him cutting away all of my clothing leaving me naked while I was still bound to the chair. He touched my breasts, letting his fingers run down my body. He…he touched my…my clit and tried to get me to come…but I couldn't. That made him angry."

"Ivan shoved two fingers inside of me and brutally took me that way, first. When that didn't work, when I didn"t give him what he wanted and he had only made me bleed, he tried something else. Something worse."

I stop to take a few deep breaths. Lenya rubs my back and continues to just listen. He is doing much better at keeping his emotions in check than I would have expected of him.

"There was a bed with a frame pushed against the wall. He untied me from the chair and I tried to run. He was too fast and caught me. I fought as hard as I could, kicking, hitting, scratching. I even bit him, but I think he liked it when I fought. He threw me on the bed and tied my hands to the bed frame, making sure there was some slack. He flipped me over and had me on my hands and knees. Ivan shoved himself inside me and….."

My voice quakes. I didn't know if I needed to go into detail.

"I understand," Lenya says his voice tight, holding back his emotions.

"He sodomized me. Repeatedly. I never understood how he could just keep going. Fatigue took over my body after the first few days. I was dirty and covered in him. He made it a point to release himself all over my body. Marking me. Claiming me. After the first week, his new goal was to make me come every time he raped me. He kept telling me that if I came, I really loved him and it was my body telling the actual truth. I cried the first time it happened."

My body shakes uncontrollably as the tears flow. Lenya pulls me into his arms and cradles me to his chest. "Khorosho (Okay) no more for now. You coming means nothing. You know that right, Tsvetok (Flower)? It's the body"s natural response to stimulation. It doesn't mean you liked it, or that you love him. There is nothing you could have done differently."

"I know," I whisper into his neck, "only when I was with you did it ever feel right."

He kisses my head and we fall asleep to the sound of each other's breathing and heartbeats.