“It’s Sarah. I want you to wake up right now, do you hear me?”
When his face remained unchanged, a mirthless laugh tumbled from my lips. “I don’t know why I was expecting to boss you around and suddenly you’d wake up. I guess I was on some sort of power trip or something. I mean, I know you’ve said I had the magic touch before, but I guess that only works when we’re having sex, huh?”
I exhaled a ragged breath. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d do anything to talk to me,” I teased. After the words left my lips, I groaned. “Can you tell how nervous I am? Although I’m a fan of gallows humor, that was an especially bad joke. I’m sure if you were awake you would give me that look of yours–the one I like to call the Slavic Side-eye. It’s funny because Aleks does the same thing, so it must be hereditary.”
Scooting closer to the edge of the hospital bed, I said, “Speaking of Aleks, you would’ve been really proud of him. He came busting into my office and forced me to face my fears to come see you.”
Tilting my head at him, I asked, “Did you know I was afraid to talk to you or see you? I know that sounds crazy considering what a ball buster I usually am.”
My fingertip traced the letters of the ink on his fingers. “That’s all I can think of for the reason why I couldn’t talk to you.” Sighing, I said, “I’ve been strong for so fucking long, Maksim. Dad’s condition is deteriorating faster and faster, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t save him.”
A sob choked off in my throat. “Like I told Aleks, I’m so afraid if I give you another chance, you’ll hurt me again. And when you do, I know I won’t survive it.”
With a shake of my head, I sobbed, “I’m not talking about moping around and not talking to people. I’m talking about a full on mental break with white vests and grippy socks. Considering Silas’s mental illness, it isn’t too far-fetched to imagine me completely losing it.”
Swiping my eyes, I said, “And what would happen to my mom and to Sammy then? And to my dad. I love you so much, but I had to love myself more in this situation. Or I guess I should say I loved my blood more, which deep down feels so incredibly selfish. You’ve done so much for my family. Over and over you’ve proven to me you’re a stand-up guy who made a really bad mistake. And after he made it, he couldn’t bring himself to ruin what happiness he’d finally found for himself.”
Rising out of my chair, I leaned over the rails on the bed. I brought my lips to Maksim’s ear. “Come back to me, Maksim. Come back to your family who loves and needs you.”
With my heart beating out of my chest, I said, “Come back to me who loves you and needs you. Give me the opportunity to give you another chance.”
After placing a kiss on his jaw, I kissed a trail over to his mouth. I pressed my lips against his, tasting the salt of my tears on his mouth.
With my lips hovering over his, I murmured, “I forgive you.”
When he remained still and unmoving, I slid down the side of the bed to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE MAKSIM
Tormented agony twisted me in two as the smell of my own blood clogged my nose. With each slice of the knife into my abdomen, I slipped farther and farther away from the hard floor of the bakery.
And then there was total darkness.
I seemed to roam around within it for hours if not days. Far away voices called to me, but I couldn’t reach them no matter how hard I tried.
After a while, my throat suddenly burned in agony. It felt like there had been a sword stuck in it and then ripped out. As soon as it came, it abruptly stopped.
And then I was blinded by a radiating light. As it enveloped me in warmth and comfort, sadness, rather than relief, swirledaround me. I’d grown up on the promise of the white light and heaven, but I wasn’t ready. I was too young. I had too much left to do for my family.
I wanted to keep fighting for Sarah.
Within the light, a figure with flowing blonde hair appeared before me. My heart surged as I blinked in disbelief. “Irina?”
She smiled as she reached out her hand for me. “Hello, my beautiful son.”
I hiccuped a cry at her words as I thought of how I wished she’d been my mother. As if she could read my mind, she said, “Not the son of my womb, but of my heart.”
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. How the others have missed you.”
That same ethereal smile curved at her lips. “I do.”
“I’m dead, aren’t I?” When she shook her head, I asked, “Yeah, I’m not even trying not to stutter, and my speech is perfect. I’m so not alive.”
“You’re not dead.”
“So what, is this like a hallucination from lack of oxygen?”
“It’s a projection of the future. It’s part of your mind and your subconscious.”
