KAZIMIR
Iwatch her dash toward the bedroom, and something in me snaps.
Not anger or frustration. Something deeper, more primal. The need to make her understand, to make herseewhat she means to me, before she disappears behind that door again and convinces herself that none of this is real.
I've been patient. I've tried to give her space, to let her come to terms with everything in her own time. But patience has its limits, and I've reached mine.
She’s locked the door before I get to it, and I grab the doorknob, rattling it. “Svetlana, let me in.”
If she hears the double meaning in the words, she doesn’t let on. I can hear her crying, and I rattle the knob again. “Svetlana, you can’t just keep running away and locking me out. Let mein.”
When she doesn’t respond, still crying, I make a low noise deep in my throat, my frustration bubbling over.Fine. I know how to pick a lock.
By the time I get it open, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed instead of where it sounded like she was before, in front of the door. She looks at me with tear-stained eyes, still wearing herrobe from the pampering session Irina gave her. I can’t help but think, even right now, about what she might or might not be wearing under it.
Her eyes go wide when I step inside and shut the door, locking it again behind me. “You can’t just?—”
"I need an answer."
She looks immediately defensive. "I told you I need time?—"
"I know what you told me." I stop a few feet away, close enough that she can't ignore me but far enough that she doesn't feel trapped. "But I think we both know that's not really what this is about."
Her jaw tightens. "You don't know what this is about."
"Don't I?" I take another step closer. "You don't believe me. That's what this is. You think I'm doing all of this out of obligation because of what happened before, or out of possessiveness, or because I just can’t stand to lose."
“And it’s not that? You want me to believe that?” Her voice cracks. “You let me go. You chose your job, Ilya,duty, over me. And now suddenly you can't let me go?”
"Fuck duty." The words come out harsher than I intend, and she flinches. I force myself to breathe, to gentle my voice. "And fuck biology. You think I care about any of that?"
"You should. This baby might not be yours?—"
"I've wanted you foryears, Svetlana."
The confession comes out raw, my voice rasping. Her lips part in surprise, but I don't give her a chance to interrupt.
"Years," I repeat, moving closer. "Long before that night. Long before any of this happened. You being on Ilya’s arm was torture. I touched myself a hundred different nights thinking about you. Imagining peeling those dresses off your body—the ones you wore on those dates. Wishing I were him. That I could have you. Knowing I was betraying a man I was loyal to, that Ilove—in my mind and heart if not in reality. And now I’ve done it for real.For you."
"Kazimir—"
“I stayed away because you were his. Because I had no right to you. I know I still don’t. I know having you could destroy me… destroy us both, maybe.” I'm close enough now that I can see the pulse fluttering at her throat, the way her breath has quickened. "But I wanted you. I've always wanted you."
She shakes her head, her hands clutching the edge of the bed. "You're just saying that?—"
"I'm not. And now that I've had you, now that I know what it's like to touch you, to be inside you, to hear you say my name when you come—" I have to stop, swallowing hard against the surge of need that threatens to overwhelm me. "Now that you're carrying my child, you think I'm going to let you go? You think I'm going to let either of you go?"
"This isn't real," she whispers, but there's less conviction in her voice now.
"It's the most real thing I've ever felt." I reach out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and cup her face in my hands. "I still want you, Svetlana. Not because of duty or the past. And I'm doing everything I can to prove that I care about you."
She looks up at me, and I see the war in her eyes—the desire to believe me fighting against years of being told she wasn't enough, wasn't wanted, wasn't worth fighting for. Against the past…ourpast, and everything that’s happened that’s telling her that this isn’t real.
"I don't believe you," she says, but her voice wavers.
"Then let me prove it."
"You can't just?—"
