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She can’t get Florence’s face out of her head.
She had looked so small in that hospital bed. Small, and sick, and weak, and it was Svetlana that caused her to be there. Never mind that she’d been lucky enough to have been carrying an antidote for that exact poison on her at the time — it was still her fault. She should have known better than to let herself become complacent. They would not have let her stay there, no matter how happy she was with Florence. That wasn’t what was important, and she knew better.
Part of her is terrified for whatever is waiting for her at home. There’s no question about whether she’s going to be punished — she will be, because she deserves it. Sasha will do it, she’s sure of that. He tells her it’s because he worries about her. That has to be why. He cares about her, and she should be grateful, instead of running off with the first target that actually likes her for her and not for her body. She can imagine how disappointed he is. It makes her shiver.
A larger part of Svetlana isn’t scared, though. She’s more numb than anything. This is what happens, and once the pain is gone she’ll go back to work like nothing has happened. Because nothing really has happened. Two years of her life, and what does she really have to show for it? A degree in English and a ring on her finger.
The ring Florence was hoping to give her is beautiful. She’ll never be able to wear it around, because what sort of impression would that make? She’ll seem like she’s hung up on her, and that would make her a liability. That’s the last thing that Svetlana wants to be right now. No, the ring will be hidden so thoroughly that only she’ll ever be able to find it again. Maybe if she ever has to get married that’ll be the ring she wears. It’d be more sensible than buying one for whatever sham marriage they force her into.
Svetlana stares at the ring, currently still on her hand as she’s sitting in her uncomfortable airplane seat. It glitters in the fluorescent light. It’ll be a while before she reaches her layover.
She’s never been one for sleeping on the plane — she’s always much too tense. This time, though, exhaustion overtakes her, perhaps from the fact that she’d been waiting for the inevitable and now it’s happened and she doesn’t have to worry anymore.
It’s half-dream, half-memory.
They’re in the apartment that they rented for the summer after Svetlana’s graduation. It’s small, and Florence swears she’s seen a mouse, but that hasn’t stopped either of them from feeling at home. Sun streams through the window in the kitchen, and the basil plant on the windowsill is flourishing, and their things are scattered together throughout the place, like it’s really both of their homes. Svetlana certainly feels like she can relax there. She’d been happy to stay in the dorm room with Florence, and this just feels like a larger, more independent version of that. It’s almost enough to make her forget where she’s supposed to be and what her mission here really was.
Almost.
She still keeps the antidote that Svetochka gave her strapped to her thigh whenever she leaves the apartment. When she’s at home, she keeps it close. She never had considered that Sasha would actually kill her before that conversation with Svetochka. Svetlana had always assumed he cared enough and that she was valuable enough that the worst he’d do would be to hurt her. Now, it’s a worry that always lives in the back of her mind. She knows what poison looks like. She’s used it before. She’s confident that she would notice the symptoms in herself before it became fatal. That’s why she carries the antidote with her every day — she’d rather be safe than sorry.
But, usually, she can push the worry down with the assurance that she’d be prepared if something happened. That’s what lets her enjoy those summer months with Florence. She ignores why she was sent to America, because it doesn’t matter when they’re together.
“Maybe we can get a cat,” Florence says.
“It makes sense that you’re a cat person,” Svetlana replies. They’re having a late breakfast after going for a run. The windows are open and everything feels like a new beginning.
“I’ve never had a pet before.”
“Neither have I.” She’d have liked to have had one as a child, but that was low on her list of priorities at the time.
Florence is eating some of the toast Svetlana made, which is a new development, since she was a raw vegan for a few months. It’s hard to keep track of. Svetlana is glad she doesn’t have issues with her eating meat, although she definitely does less now, just by virtue of the fact that she is living with Florence.
“I’m sure there’s a lot in shelters here…” Florence is looking at her with sad eyes. She doesn’t wear her green contact lenses anymore, especially around the house. “Ones that need homes, Svetka.”
“What happens when you go back to school in the fall, though? Or go away for Freddie’s tournaments?”
She shrugs. “You’ll be here, and I’ll be here when I’m not in class.”
“I might have to work. I don’t know yet.” Her visa is up, since she’s not in school anymore. She might be able to get a work visa, but she isn’t sure yet. Everything is up in the air. “We’d be able to figure something out, though.”
Florence smiles. Svetlana can’t help but grin back, when she’s genuinely smiling her happiness is contagious.
“Come here, you,” Florence says, and Svetlana leans across the table to be kissed.
Svetlana has been with a lot of people. She’s never been in love before Florence, though. This is why — when she kisses her she feels loved. She knows more about Florence than she’s known about anyone else in her life. When she’d thought Florence was a CIA asset, she had assumed her kindness to her was at least in part manipulation, especially when she could be so mean to others. Now, she knows it’s not true, and feels silly for even thinking that it wasn’t genuine.
There’s a feeling of hopefulness in the air. Florence scatters kisses on Svetlana’s freckles. It’s going to be Florence’s senior year, and they’re living together, and whatever issues that may come up are nothing compared to this, what they have together.
Svetlana can’t believe how stupid she was.
She wakes up as they hit a spot of turbulence. Her eyes are wet; she was crying in her sleep. She hopes she wasn’t screaming this time. That would be embarrassing.
They never did get that cat. It’s probably for the best.
Where would Florence be now? In all likelihood, she’s probably still in the hospital. But, if Svetlana can pretend all of that never happened, she’s probably at dance. Ballet, most likely. She’s always been so good at ballet. Or, maybe she’s reading. She reads more than anyone else Svetlana knows. It impresses her that someone doing a triple major has time to dance and to read and to be a chess second. But, then again, Florence has always been extraordinary for as long as Svetlana has known her.
She doesn’t expect that they’ll ever see each other again. And, if they do, there’s no chance that Florence will ever forgive her. Not after the letter she left for her to read.
A few days ago, that would have absolutely broken her. Now, though, all Svetlana feels is a dull twinge in her chest. Maybe that’s her new normal.
She can’t bring herself to be upset.