Kira
I make it three steps back into the ballroom before my legs start to give out.
The walls tilt. The chandeliers blur into streaks of light. I grab onto a marble column and hold on like it's the only thing keeping me upright. Which, right now, it is.
Maksim is alive.
The thought keeps looping through my brain, unable to fully process.
My stomach lurches. I need to get somewhere private before I fall apart in front of everyone. The Ice Queen doesn't collapse at engagement parties. She doesn't let anyone see her break.
I force my legs to move, each step requiring conscious effort. People are staring—of course they are, they just watched a dead man walk through the ballroom—but I keep my chin up and my expression blank. The bathroom is only twenty feet away. I can make it twenty feet.
Fifteen.
Ten.
Five.
I push through the door and barely make it to the sink before my knees buckle. I catch myself on the marble counter and hold on for dear life.
The woman in the mirror looks like a stranger. Smeared makeup. Wild hair. A scrape on my shoulder that's going to bruise. And my eyes—God, my eyes look like someone ripped my heart out and showed it to me still beating.
I can feel him inside me still. Feel the places where he gripped too hard, where his mouth bruised mine, where his body claimed mine against that wall. I can feel his release dripping down my thighs.
Evidence of my weakness. Of my need. Of the fact that even after six years, I'm still completely, desperately in love with him.
And he hates me.
The sob that tears out of me sounds like an animal in pain. I slap my hand over my mouth to muffle it, but another one follows. Then another. My whole body shakes with the force of grief I've been holding back for six years finally breaking free.
He's alive. He's alive and he thinks I had him killed.
I turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face. It does nothing to help. I look worse—mascara running, lipstick gone, the carefully constructed mask of the Ice Queen completely destroyed.
I grab paper towels and start cleaning up the damage. Wiping away makeup. Fixing my hair. Trying to erase the evidence of what just happened in the garden. But I can't erase the marks on my skin. Can't erase the feeling of his hands on me, his mouth, his body moving inside mine with fury and desperation.
Can't erase the way he looked at me with such hatred.
I lean against the counter, taking deep breaths. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
"Kira?" Anya's voice cuts through the fog followed by a soft knock on the door. “Let me in.”
Despite my desire to keep her away from the party, Roman demanded it and my father promised to have her here.
I move to the door and unlock it, hiding myself behind the door.
“Oh God, what happened to you?" Anya gasps.
“Shh. Don’t.”
I close and lock the door behind her.
I can't find words. Can't explain that my entire world just got thrown into a tailspin and I don't know which way is up anymore.
I collapse to the floor.
I’m so tired of being strong.
