Tears of Betrayal

“Okay. Where to?”

“Ariana’s place,” I mutter as I open the bag I brought along. I take out a couple of surveillance cameras. “You’ll check on her and plant these so I can see what’s going on in that apartment.”

“Okay.” Nikhil drives us through the city, and as we stop across the road from Ariana’s building, I breathe a little easier, knowing how close I am to her.

“Don’t let her see you plant the cameras,” I remind him, even though I don’t have to.

“Okay.” Nikhil gets out of the car, and I watch as he crosses the road and disappears inside the apartment building.

Pulling the laptop out, I open it and bring up the screen that shows me the cameras. All three remain static, and then finally, one comes on, and I get a view of the living room, front door, and kitchen.

A couple of minutes later, the second one comes online, showing me Ariana’s bedroom from the closet’s angle.

Ariana’s got the covers pulled over her head, and when I see Nikhil’s lips moving, I turn up the volume.

‘Have you eaten?’ I hear him ask.

‘Mhh… I’m fine. Leave,’ Ariana mumbles, sounding tired as fuck.

Nikhil leaves the bedroom, and I watch as he opens the kitchen cupboards and fridge, then he glances at the camera in the living room and shakes his head. When he leaves the apartment, I watch the entrance until he comes out of the building.

I glance back at the screen, showing Ariana not moving from the bed, and let out a sigh.

What are you doing, Malyshka?

Nikhil gets in behind the steering wheel. “I only planted two cameras.”

I nod. “I’ve got a good view. Let’s go get her food.”

We drive to the nearest Walmart, and walking through the isles, Nikhil mutters, “Never thought I’d go shopping with you. This is weird.”

I let out a chuckle. “Shut up and grab three boxes of mac and cheese.”

I get things that will be easy for her to prepare and fruit and then head back to the apartment. “Make sure she eats something,” I order as I open the laptop.

“Okay.”

As Nikhil heads inside with the bags of food, I check the camera feeds. The bedroom shows Ariana lying on her back, her feet propped up against the bed's headboard. She just stares up at the ceiling. Suddenly she begins to jerk and throws an arm over her face as she cries.

My heart constricts, and the muscles in my body tense as I watch her fall apart.

Why, Malyshka?

Taking my phone from my pocket, I open the messenger app. I haven’t reached out to her since she left but can’t hold back any longer.

Demitri: How are you doing?

I send the text, then watch the camera feed.

With no energy, Ariana reaches for her phone, and then the light of the screen illuminates her face.

Christ.

She looks worn out, and there are red blotches around her eyes from all the crying. She opens the message, and then another sob sputters from her. Pressing the phone to her chest, she curls into a fetal position as she loses it again.

Nikhil walks into the apartment, and it makes Ariana pull the covers over her head again. He packs all the food away and then grabs a fork, taking a bowl of mixed fruit to the bedroom.

‘You need to eat. Come, sit up,’ he says.

‘Just leave it in the kitchen. I’ll eat it later,’ Ariana mumbles, her voice quivering and hoarse.

‘Now, Ariana. I’ll force-feed you if I have to,’ Nikhil warns her.

Ariana throws the covers back, and sitting up, she holds her hand out and takes the fruit. She shoves the food down, then glares at Nikhil. ‘Happy? Now leave!’

‘There’s food in the kitchen. I’ll check daily whether you’re eating,’ he gives her another warning, and then he leaves.

Ariana sits still until Nikhil is out of the apartment, and then she falls back on the bed, and unlocking her phone, she stares at it.

She begins to type, and every couple of seconds, she pauses as she begins to cry. Watching her struggle is fucking hard, and I don’t look away from the screen as Nikhil gets back into the car.

It takes her almost ten minutes before she sends the text.

Ariana: I’m good. Getting back into my old routine. Busy making a makeup tutorial and plan on visiting my mom later. How are you?

I shake my head as I type out a reply.

Demitri: Back at work. Are you making any progress with figuring out how you feel about me?

I send the message and watch as she reads it immediately. Again she breaks down, pressing her face into the covers, and then I hear her voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words. ‘God, I can’t. This is too hard.’

She turns onto her back and takes a couple of deep breaths, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her face. Staring at the screen, she whispers, ‘I love you so much. I wish I had the chance to tell you that.’