“You’re welcome.” Ilya stands up. “Let me give you my phone number.”
I shake my head. “No, I need to get going. Thank you.” I back off a few steps and take a breath. “Really. But you need to forget about me.”
“I won’t,” Ilya promises.
“You really, really need to,” I say.
Before he can respond, I quickly text Adam back.
Micah
I’m finishing up now! Love you! :-)
I hold my breath as he types back, not sure what he’s going to say.
Relief floods me when his answer is simple.
Adam
I love you too.
At least there’s that.
I glance back at Ilya, who’s still waiting. “Really,” I insist, even though something aches as I tell him, “You have to let this go. I have a boyfriend. You have to respect that.”
Ilya’s brows furrow, but he nods. “I understand. But let me give you my phone number. If you ever want yogurt, or you need somebody to bring you something, you can call me.”
I can’t help but laugh, even if it’s a choked sound. “Adam would get upset if I called another man,” I tell him.
And he would know.
He checks our phone records each month. Every time I make a call to an unfamiliar number, he has to know who it was to and what the purpose was. It’s never really bothered me before; I haven’t had anything to hide.
I would now.
Ilya smiles at me, despite my refusal. “You won’t call me.” He takes his phone out and taps over to an icon. “This app is a messaging app. But it doesn’t use your texts. It’s data. And there is option to automatically delete messages. Mine deletes after a day.”
I swallow hard, then lick my lips uncertainly. “You promise he wouldn’t be able to see anything?” I ask, all too aware of how desperate I sound.
I don’t need to ever text him. I can tell Adam about it, even, and maybe Adam can use it to gather intel.
Or I just never tell Adam at all.
I could text Ilya for myself.
“Nobody has managed to see whatItext, so far. And if you change icon, nobody will know what it is.” Ilya opens up his contact info on the phone. “Here is my number.”
I nibble on my lip, but I quickly download the app. I input his information under“Doctor”and in a wobbly voice, I give him my number in turn. Adam shouldn’t notice the app, there’s no sense in being stupid by inputting it with Ilya’s name.
I still need to finish shopping and get out of here, and I can’t be careless with anything. “I have to go,” I tell him.
I don’t wait for a response, holding my phone tightly in my hand as I jog back toward the entrance to the grocery store.
I have to think about anything but the fact that I just gave my number to Ilya Zima, a man who would destroy me if he knew what I was doing.
I’m in way over my head.
SIX
