The door clicks softly behind him.
A few minutes later, Mireille stirs. She lifts her head slowly, blinking against the light. For a second, she looks confused, then her gaze finds mine.
“Dmitri…” Her voice cracks on my name.
I manage a faint smile. “Hey.”
She’s up and out of the chair before I can say anything else, tears already spilling down her cheeks as she leans over me. “You’re awake. Oh my God, you’re awake.”
I reach for her hand, my voice raspy. “I told you I’d come back.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, wiping at her face. “You almost didn’t.”
“Almost doesn’t count.”
That earns me a watery smile, but when she looks at the bandages peeking out from beneath the blanket, her expression crumples again. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve—”
“Died?” I finish softly. “Maybe. But I wasn’t letting him hurt you. Or your father.”
She shakes her head, tears falling faster. “You’re impossible.”
I grin faintly. “You love that about me.”
“I do.” She presses her forehead to mine. “God, I do.”
I shift slightly, ignoring the pull of pain in my side, and tug her closer until she’s half lying against me. “Come here,” I whisper.
She hesitates. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I already hurt,” I murmur. “This helps.”
That makes her laugh, a sound that feels like air after drowning. She climbs carefully onto the bed, curling against me. My armslips around her waist, and for a moment, it feels like everything outside this room stops existing. We stay like that until her breathing steadies, her tears drying against my skin.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers finally. “For not trusting you. For what I thought when I heard you talking to your brothers.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I overheard you talking about me with your brothers, and I just…” she trails off with a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping as she drops her gaze guiltily. “I can't believe I thought the worst of you.”
I tilt her chin up until our eyes meet. “What you heard was true—at least, it was true when I first approached you. The plan was always to use you to get to your father. But somewhere along the way, you became more important than any plan.”
Her eyes search mine, glistening with fresh tears.
“I’m not a good man, Mireille,” I continue quietly. “I’ve done things that would make you look at me differently if you knew. But loving you—that’s the most honest thing I’ve ever done.”
She lets out a shaky breath, then raises her hand to my face and caresses my jaw, her fingers trembling slightly. “I thought I lost you.”
“You didn’t.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “You never will.”
She kisses me then, her lips sliding gently against mine. I angle my head and deepen the kiss, trying hard to control the rush of emotions coursing through me.
I almost never got to do this again…
When we finally pull apart, Mireille rests her head against my chest again. “I love you. Dmitri.”
My chest soars with a sudden surge of happiness. It feels like my heart might burst open at any moment, and I suddenly want to roar in victory.
Instead, I press a kiss to her temple and pull her closer. “I love you, too,moya kukolka.”
