I huff out a laugh that’s half sob.
His arms tighten. “I’m proud of you, KitKat. So damn proud. I wish I could’ve seen it.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“Next time,” he promises. “I’ll be there.”
The words slice me open.
Because I don’t know what “next time” looks like anymore. I don’t know if he’ll still be here… or even if I will.
But for tonight… for one stolen and fragile night, I let myself believe him.
“Scottie?” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Can you just… hold me?” My voice shakes. “Please?”
He doesn’t ask why.
He just pulls me closer, tucking me beneath his chin, his hand splayed across my back like he’s trying to shield me from the entire world.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe him in. Maxim, my grandmother… everything else, can wait until tomorrow.
Just for tonight, I let myself pretend that this is forever. That the woman in this bed belongs to this man in every way that matters. That visas and fathers and grandmothers and green card timelines don’t exist.
Just one more night.
One more night of his heartbeat under my ear.
One more night of his arms around me.
One more night before everything might change.
Chapter Nineteen
SCOTTIE
I wake up with the feeling of her.
Warm, soft, tucked against me like she’s always belonged there.
For a second, I don’t remember how I got here. Just the weight of her thigh thrown over mine, the tickle of her hair under my chin, the slow rise and fall of her breathing. My arm is aroundher waist, my hand spread over her back as if it’s been guarding her all night.
Which, knowing me, it probably has.
The room is dim, Seattle trying to remember what sunlight is through gray clouds. My body aches in that good, familiar way from last night’s game and the late flight, but this—this right here—makes all of it worth it.
Katerina in my bed.
Katerina in my arms.
Katerina, who somehow slept right through me getting in at two-thirty in the morning, sliding beneath the covers and gathering her close because I needed the feel of her to knock my brain off the loss.
She makes a soft sound and burrows in closer, nose bumping my throat.
