Kourt:If you’re actually doing this with Mr. Married, then I need to meet him. No arguments
Kourt:Also, now we know someone who can buy Luca a vending machine
Me:Kourtney!
Kourt:He looks strong enough to move it too…
Me:He’s not buying Luca a vending machine *glare emoji*
Kourt:We’ll see about that
I wake up to the last message because I’d fallen asleep before she responded. I can’t help but snort, because I have no doubt she’ll try getting the professional hockey player to buy her son a vending machine. She has no shame.
I hear animated voices coming from the kitchen when I leave the empty bedroom that Thomas guided me to last night. We hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even tried. He gave me something to wear to bed, tucked me in, and kissed me good night. I’d woken up to Oreo sleeping stretched out beside me and the owner of the house gone.
Some of the voices talk softly, while others…not so much. The one that sounds particularly angry has a thick accent that immediately puts me on full alert. It’s the same voice that approached me at the gala.
Mikhail Yokav.
“—is not the place for this,” a feminine voice replies. It’s Emaly, I realize. When did she get here? That must be why Thomas wasn’t in bed.
“And whereisthe place, daughter?” the angry man spits venomously. “Because your current residence is across thecountry with a woman I have never met in my life that you’re allegedly engaged to.”
I have no idea what to do. This isn’t my place or my business. Or is it? I’m definitely involved in ways I really shouldn’t be, but it’s too late to go back now.
“I am engaged to her,” Emaly corrects him smoothly. “There’s nothing alleged about it.”
Thomas is the next one to speak. “Perhaps if you had the kind of relationship that welcomed the truth, we could have avoided all this.”
There are whispered words spoken in a language I don’t understand between Mikhail and Emaly, but it’s safe to say whatever Russian is being thrown around probably isn’t light-hearted.
“Father,” Emaly says in English, voice firmer than it was before. “That’s uncalled for. And, frankly, Thomas isn’t wrong. I tried telling you years ago, but you never listened.”
There’s a scoff. “You never told methis. You only spoke of a better path for you. You complained about skating, not…not…”
“Men?” Thomas offers coyly.
There’s a choked laugh from someone that I can only imagine is Emaly. Then she says, “Let me be as clear as possible so you understand me perfectly. I’m a lesbian. I’m not bisexual or heterosexual or asexual or any other thing. I’m in love with a woman. I’ve always preferred women. But I finally found the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m as sure about Ronnie as I am about being a doctor. And we aregoingto get married.”
It’s silent for a long, tense moment. Suddenly, I feel like I should be somewhere else.
“You are already married,” he points out. “If memory serves, I told you not to, but you did it anyway. What do you propose to do about that?”
“AndItoldyounot to mix business and pleasure by buying him out,” she counters. “You did that anyway. So maybe I am more like you than I want to admit.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Simultaneously, Emaly and Thomas say, “Yes.”
There’s more Russian spoken and I have a feeling they’re curse words.
“Thomas is my best friend, whom I love dearly and platonically. I can’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure he’s in love with a woman too. Specifically, the one in the other room. I owe him so much, Father. Without him, I wouldn’t have gotten this far in life. He’s endured far more than he deserves, and I’ve allowed it to happen for too long. But I’m putting a stop to it right now.”
“Emaly,” Mikhail warns.
I take a deep breath and peek over the edge of the wall to look into the open kitchen across the hallway.
Emaly walks over to Thomas and stops in front of him, reaching to cup his cheek. She smiles widely, lovingly, up at him. “Thomas, my love,” she begins, stroking her thumb over his jawline, “I want a divorce.”
