“I need air.” I take a step.
Maybe by instinct, Sasha’s hand shoots out and grabs me by the wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to hold me in place. It’s the exactlastthing I want.
“Not tonight,” he says.
“Let me go.”
For a moment, I think he might not. He stays still, that strange, half-angry, half-pleading look in his eyes. Then he releases me. I shoulder past him, brushing his arm on purpose. It’s a small act of defiance, but one that still feels like a little victory, silly as it may be.
“Gabby.” His voice is soft, almost weak, as if he knows he screwed up majorly.
I should keep walking. But I can’t help it. I turn.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he says.
“Sure as hell could’ve fooled me.”
“I can’t lose you. Not you, not the babies. You don’t understand what that would?—”
I cut him off. “Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before building a life where everything you care about has to be locked behind glass. If you think this is the kind of life I’m going to bring two children into, you’re wrong.”
The silence is thick, final. I can feel my words hit him the way truth often does—quiet and lethal.
I’m done. I march down the hall to the bedroom door, throwing it open and slamming it hard behind me.
He doesn’t come after me. He knows better than to pull something like that, at least. The bed is mercifully soft as I fall onto it face-first. In no time at all, I’m sobbing into my pillow. I feel so stupid, so helpless.
It’s not long before I’ve cried myself out. Tired and achy, I roll off the bed and step into the bathroom, washing my face and pulling my hair back. Inside my chest, everything aches. Keeping it together for the babies is my top priority.
When I’m done, I go return to the bed and sit down. The image of him hurling that glass across the room appears in my mind. It was a glimpse of the kind of man he really is, deep down. I don’t think he’d hurt me. Not intentionally, at least. But Sasha is a man capable of horrible violence. What has he done with those hands? How many lives has he taken with them?
I place my palm on my stomach. These babies are half him, for better or worse.
And I hate how much the thought of that scares and thrills me in equal measure.
CHAPTER 26
GABBY
One day later…
I’m seated at the kitchen island with a mug of tea that’s long gone tepid. I haven’t seen him once since our fight last night. I took the day off, not feeling up to working, as much as I might’ve needed the distraction.
I take a sip, wondering what’s going to happen when I see him again. Is he going to apologize? Pretend nothing happened? Leaving has its appeal. I’ve got a little money saved up—more than enough to get a one-way flight somewhere far from here, maybe even out of the country.
What would happen if I left? Would he chase me to the ends of the earth? Or would he be secretly relieved that a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders?
I’m in the middle of putting my mug into the microwave for a reheat when Bogdan fills the doorway, sleeves rolled and tie gone. He flashes me a look, as if he can see right through me.
“Good evening,” I say as I press the power button on the microwave.
“What’ve you eaten today?”
“Huh?”
“Food. In your stomach. What’ve you eaten?”
It’s funny—there’s almost a motherly concern in his voice.
