“No.”
His brows lifted slightly — surprise flashing across his face.
That reaction almost made me smirk.
I continued calmly. “Maybe I’ll forgive you after you’re dead.”
His jaw tightened.
“But while you’re still breathing?”
I held his gaze through the thick glass.
“Hell no.”
The words tasted like ash on my tongue.
Forgiveness wasn’t something I could force.
It wasn’t something I owed.
It had to be earned — and even then, it might never come.
Ruslan stared at me for several seconds.
Absorbing it.
Processing the finality.
Suddenly—
A wave of nausea slammed into me.
Violent. Hot. Unexpected.
My stomach twisted so sharply I felt the blood drain from my face.
I swallowed hard.
It didn’t help.
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
I stood up too fast — the chair scraping loudly across the floor — and instinctively pressed my hand over my mouth.
Ruslan noticed immediately.
His posture shifted.
“Elena—”
I didn’t answer.
I turned and walked quickly toward the restroom sign at the far end of the hall.
Each step felt unsteady.
Like my legs weren’t fully cooperating.
