“Kira.” The woman reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Lin May.”
Kira shook her hand with a forced smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Lin glanced back at Maxim and pursed her lips. “I’m a therapist that deals with–”
“A therapist?” The word didn’t register at first, but when she pinned her eyes on Maxim and how he simply stared back as if he wasn’t being a total dick, she darted back outside. She had her fists on her hips, staring out, pacing slightly on the stairs. She hated Maxim for not letting it go. She despised him for trying to dig deeper. There was nothing wrong! Hadn’t she proved that in the last few weeks, eating everything in sight? She had gained over fifteen pounds so this idea that she had an eating disorder was plainly fabricated.
Kira cleared her thoughts. If she overreacted, they would think something was wrong. She had to play this in the best manner she could. If she were perfectly sweet and gave the best answers, this woman would leave in a heartbeat, and Maxim’s pride would suffer when he was told he was wrong.
“Morozov.”
Maxim came out behind her, and she spun on him with disappointment shining in her eyes. He was, however, steadfast and unashamed.
With tight lips, she said, “When she leaves and tells you nothing’s wrong and I’m perfectly fine, I never want to hear about this again. Agreed?” She held out her hand like she had seen so many men make their deals.
Maxim took her hand and pulled her to him. She stumbled and braced a hand against his chest. But she yanked that betraying appendage away. His height difference unnerved her, but she stubbornly looked up. Maxim smirked. “I wonder if you can do it all without lying.”
“According to you, everything that comes out of my mouth is a lie.”
Maxim touched the tip of her strawberry hair. “Prove me wrong. It’s all I’ve been waiting for, Morozov. Prove. Me. Wrong.”
Kira couldn’t breathe. Was he insinuating that if she proved truthful, he’d cave and this entire distance between them would fall away? Did he want her as she wanted him? She craved him daily and yearned to touch him, but each day brought disappointment.
Maxim bypassed her and jotted down the stairs. “I’ll be home late. Try not to buy anything while I’m gone.”
Kira sat on her bed with a dozen candy wrappers on the comforter. She chewed slowly, enjoying every bite, but the distant guilt was beginning to pick up, and as she swallowed the last piece, it smacked into her like a bulldozer. She threw herself in the bathroom to throw up, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Too many horrible memories stopped her. Kira sat on the edge of the tub, shaking, self-hatred burning a hole in her chest as she cried.
The meeting with the therapist yesterday did not go as well as she had hoped. She tried to lie, but Maxim stayed in the back ofher head. She wanted to earn his trust. She wanted to earn his love, and she found herself unable to lie.
But in doing so, she revealed more than she’s ever done, and now she was broken. Terribly broken.
‘I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Kira. But you have an eating disorder.’
She had laughed, but the woman took out a sheet of paper and put it on the table, showing her every symptom and how all her actions added up to one fact. And now, Kira couldn’t move on.
What would Papa think?
Kira tried to hold herself up to Yakov’s standards, but she wasn’t as perfect as he hoped. She was a pile of mess that deserved no pity. Kira had an ideal life with everything she could ever want. To be so ungrateful brought so much hatred toward herself. If she were grateful, she’d eat properly. If she were grateful, she’d appreciate the body she had. If she were a good person, she would never fault those who made fun of her weight. She’d forgive and let it go, instead of starving herself. But she wasn’t a grateful person. She was hateful toward every harsh word her father said, toward every disregard done by her mother, toward her sisters acting like she never mattered, and toward her brothers for never letting her breathe.
A knock on her door shot her to her feet. She found herself in the mirror and couldn’t stomach how she looked, so instead of answering, Kira undressed and threw herself into the shower. The shock of the cold water helped clear the misery away, and as soon as the warmth took over, she sighed. Her thoughts scattered, and she was thankful for it. If only she knew how to drag herself out of those terrible ruts, she would recover faster and move on.
Another knock hit the bathroom door. “Miss Kira,” Lydia called. It had taken weeks for Kira to get Lydia to stop calling herMrs. Morozov. “I received a phone call informing me that your father is on his way here.”
“My father?” Panic was the first thing to burst in her heart, and she scanned her memories over the last few days to see if there was anything she could have exposed in their two-minute conversations. Her father never stayed on the phone long enough, always having something better to do.
Perhaps he’s just here to see me.
The panic receded behind that thought, and a smile eventually warmed her face as she scanned her closet for the perfect outfit. What outfit would a non-virgin, sophisticated married woman wear? Would her father notice how little she’s changed, or would he think she’s grown in the last two months? If only she had time to do her hair, she could alter her appearance just enough to deceive.
Kira stood in front of the mirror with a pantsuit, something her sister Luerna loved to wear. It always made her look like a professional businesswoman. But Kira only saw a pudgy girl trying too hard. She sagged with a sigh and headed into the closet when the doorbell rang.
With her heart in her throat, she darted out the door only to come face to face with Maxim.
“Any reason your father deemed us for a visit?”
Kira wasn’t over his attack with the therapist and steeled herself. “No idea.”
With his hand directing her, Kira went ahead with Maxim smirking behind her. “Come on, Morozov, don’t be moody.”
