Me. Definitely fucking me.
Jemma leans back, grinning wickedly. “You know, you’ve always been the least romantic person I’ve ever met. The wedding planner who swore she’d never get married. We had a pool going on at the office. I had my sights on a later-in-life romance, but you just had to go and find yourself a hot, rich husband you apparently actually love.”
“I do not?—”
“It’s not corny to admit you love your husband, Sam. You married the man. In the most dramatic way possible, might I add.”
I roll my eyes and hide my face behind an empty cup. “It wasn’tthatdramatic,” I mumble.
“Oh, please. If there had been fireworks, pigeons, and a Broadway overture, it still wouldn’t have topped you.”
“Jem.”
“Though your husband apparently tops you a lo?—”
“JEM!”
Jemma starts cackling like a maniac. I bury my face in my hands, wondering if Luka will use his service gun to shoot me if I ask real nicely.
I realize my heart is racing.Can’t stop, won’t stopkind of racing.
A horrible doubt stabs me then. Could Jemma be…right?
Am I actually in love with Petyr?
I can’t be in love with him. He’s thepakhanof the Gubarev Bratva, my family’s sworn enemies. He kidnapped andblackmailed me, and only came up with a mutually beneficial agreement because he didn’t want me to keep trying to sneak out of his creepy-as-fuck mansion of horrors.
But then I think about the other side of him. The kind, caring, occasionally nerdy man I’ve come to know over these long weeks together. I think about the way my chest expands at the memory of his rare laugh, the warmth that seeps into my body when I remember his hands on me. The strange safety I feel in his arms, a sensation I’ve never felt before. Not back at my family home, not once in the twelve years I’ve been on the run.
Jemma must see something flicker across my face, because she groans and waves her spoon at me. “Don’t tell me I just sent you into some existential crisis.”
“Maybe a minor one,” I mutter, trying for a smile.
“Come on. You don’t need to keep up the tough act.” She reaches over and grabs my hand. “So you got married and you liked it. So what? I certainly won’t be holding it against you. No one will. I mean, maybe Bob.”
“Definitely Bob.”
“Yeah, he flipped his shit when he saw your resignation. Heard he went to your place and tried to kick down your door to demand your two weeks, but you were nowhere to be found.”
“Yeesh.”
“Yep. Anyway.” She fixes her gaze on mine. “You’re not bound by your past, Sammi. Whoever you were—that’s not who you have to be for the rest of your life. You’re allowed to change.”
My eyes grow teary. She has no idea how much those words mean to me. Jemma doesn’t know about my past, but everything she just said hits me right there. The girl I used to be, the woman I am today—they’re so different. Sometimes, it gives me whiplash to think about.
Sima Danilo. Sammi Banks.Two halves of my life I’ve tried my damnedest to keep separate.
What if I let them merge into someone new? A person I can actually be proud of?
A person I canbe?
But then I remember Dimitri, hooked to all those machines. I remember that Petyr is fatherless now because of what my own dad did.
There’s no way I can ever reconcile with that.
No way I can ever be in love with him.
The thought lingers all the way through our second round of drinks. Through Jemma’s chatter, through every smile I fake. By the time I excuse myself to the bathroom, my nerves are ready to snap at a moment’s notice.
