"Don't be scared. I'll get the doctor." I reached for the call button.
"No! Don't go!" Genevie screamed and threw her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest, sobbing hysterically. "Don't call the doctor! I don't want to see a doctor. I just need you. It only stops hurting when you hold me."
"Genevie, stop this." I tried to pry her hands off, but I couldn't bring myself to hurt her.
In those few seconds of struggle, the phone on the nightstand stopped vibrating.
The screen went dark.
Only Genevie's sobs and the occasional beep of the monitor filled the room.
That nameless anxiety didn't fade. It grew wild like weeds, strangling me. I glanced at the darkened screen. Something hollow settled in my chest.
The basement was cold. Her knee was injured.
No. When had I gotten so soft? Let her stay the night. She deserved the lesson.
Just one night. Tomorrow, I'd explain everything. Harper shouldn't have turned into someone so vicious over jealousy and suspicion. But... even if I couldn't let her out, I could have someone bring her blankets and ointment. She'd manage. She'd been a nurse not long ago.
I took a deep breath and looked down at Genevie. She seemed calmer now, her breathing evening out, but she still clung to me.
"Feeling better?" I asked.
Genevie looked up at me. Those tear-washed eyes locked onto mine. She didn't answer. Instead, she said, "I'm jealousof her."
"What?"
"I'm jealous of Harper." Her voice was soft, tinged with bitter amusement. "I'm jealous she gets to stand by your side. Jealous she gets to wear Olga's necklace. Jealous she has everything I used to dream about."
She reached up, her fingertips trembling as they traced my face.
"I know I don't deserve you anymore, Kirill. I never thought I'd take her place as your wife." She sniffled, her gaze turning pathetic. "I just want to stay near you. Even if everyone spits on me... as long as I can see you sometimes, as long as you hold me, I'm satisfied. Am I pathetic?"
If I'd heard this confession two years ago, I would've sworn to give her the world.
But now, all I could think about was that missed call. The dark corner of the basement.
"Genevie, you need to rest." I grabbed her hand and pulled it away from my face. "Lie down."
Genevie's eyes filled with sorrow. She leaned closer, her face inches from mine.
"Kirill, I still love you. These past two years in that hell, saying your name was the only thing that kept me alive. Look at me. Please, look at me..."
Then Genevie kissed me.
Her lips were soft, pleading, desperate. Her tongue tried to pry my mouth open.
I didn't push her away. I didn't kiss her back either. I just let her press against me. I was waiting.
Waiting for that familiar spark. That rush I'd felt when I was young and crazy for her. That fire that made me ready to take on the world for her.
But... nothing.
Nothing at all.
Then a sudden vibration drilled into my ear. Was it Harper calling again?
I didn't want to answer. I told myself to let it ring. Compared to apregnant woman who'd almost lost her baby, one night in the basement was mercy.
