“Because he promised. And Anton keeps his promises.”
The rest of the day passes in a blur.
Jasper shows up at six. Takes one look at my face and knows something’s wrong.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” I’m stirring pasta sauce. Mechanically. “Everything’s fine.”
“Mary—”
“I’m fine, Jas. Really.”
He doesn’t believe me. But he doesn’t push.
We eat dinner. I barely taste it. Make conversation. Laugh at Jasper’s stories about his celebrity fittings.
Pretend everything’s normal.
Pretend I’m not dying inside.
At ten, Jasper leaves. Hugs me extra long.
“Call me if you need anything,” he says. “Anything at all.”
“I will.”
I won’t.
Lev and Dima say goodnight. Lev squeezes my shoulder. Dima nods once.
They know I’m barely holding it together.
But they let me have this. Let me pretend I’m strong.
I shower. Change into Anton’s T-shirt. Climb into bed.
Stare at the ceiling.
And finally—finally—let myself feel it.
The fear. The grief. The absolute terror that he’s not coming back.
The tears come hard. Silent sobs that shake my whole body.
I curl around his pillow. Breathe in his scent.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please come back. I need you. The baby needs you. We need you so much.”
My phone sits on the nightstand. Dark. Silent.
No calls. No texts. Nothing.
Just like the past five days.
“I love you,” I say to the empty room. “Ya lyublyu tebya. Please be alive. Please be fighting. Please—”
My phone buzzes.
