I did as he said and handed the phone to him. He thumbed in a number, and his phone was vibrating in the same minute. Then he gave me back my phone.
I placed it on my lap and looked back up to find his gaze on me.
“I missed you. More than I would have thought,” he revealed, taking my hand in his.
Didn’t I feel the same?
It was Tuesday, the first day Mikhail had left the penthouse since we got married. He had spent a large part of the day before working, but that had all been in his home office, not out at his warehouse.
I could only blink as he kissed the back of my hand, his 5 o'clock shadow grazing my skin before he released it.
“I didn’t know you wear glasses. They look good on you,” I remarked, smiling at him.
“Hmm,” he muttered, chuckling. “How many mafia bosses do you know who need glasses to go through paperwork?”
“Uh…it’s your health. Why would I want to compare it with other mafia bosses?” I asked, frowning in mild confusion.
“It’s not just that.”
“So, what is it?”
He sighed before answering. “From needing these damn glasses to every other thing, I just can’t seem to measure up. To be good enough outside another’s shadow.”
That was totally not what I would have expected to hear from him.
“Well, I don’t see anyone’s shadow hovering over you. You seem to be doing fine on your own, to me,” I expressed, an unsure chuckle leaving my lips.
“You’ve not had any reason to measure me beside the others,” he negated, a faraway look in his eyes.
I was deliberating asking who the others were when he went on.
“Right from when I was a kid, as far back as I can remember, I’ve struggled to be up to standard, to be good enough. Our father started training Viktor to be the next Pakhan, so he seemed to grow even faster. He was stronger, smarter, and he judged better. Besides age, the distance between us was a lot of ground I couldn’t cover. But then, the distance between Roman and me became more and more insignificant as we all grew. He became better than me in many things. Even Konstantin has areas where he’s the best among us. Not me. I was...in the middle. In everything, I was just good. Nothing exceptional or remarkable. Even physically, look at us. Roman is the second tallest after Viktor. Konstantin comes next. I probably sound vain, too,” he stopped himself, chuckling.
“No, you don’t,” I cut in, my voice softer than I remembered it being.
“Height is a big deal for men. I know that because the girls who flocked around us as we grew up couldn’t stop comparing. The comparison would have meant nothing if I, at least, measured up in one aspect. I don’t have Viktor’s control or Roman’s sleek charm. But…it’s not something I can change.”
“So you just keep pushing yourself to silence the feeling of being average,” I pointed out.
He looked into my eyes like he was surprised I understood. Or that I cared enough.
“Mikhail, you don’t have to,” I told him, taking his hand between both of mine. “You’re more than good enough. The only problem is that you’re too focused on every other person to see yourself. You don’t need Viktor’s control or anyone’s height. Damn, you don’t need anyone’s charm. I would have hidden my face from the wedding pictures if that were the case.”
He chuckled, and I found myself doing the same.
“I’ve only known you closely for a few days, and I already know you’re kind and considerate- something people below you on the mafia ladder, even my dad, don’t have.”
My thumb went back and forth on his hand as I continued.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you can be authoritative as fuck when you need to be.”
“Remembering our initial interactions?”
“Yes,” I confessed, rolling my eyes. “But, my point is, if that’s not a standard on its own, I don’t know what is.”
His other hand cupped the side of my face as our silent gazes remained locked on each other.
This was not the kind of secret I came into this office to find.
