Victoria and I rarely discuss the business, and when we do, we don’t usually go into detail. All I know is drugs are involved, and the East Coast is their domain—minus half of Chicago, which is now shared with my father.
But if my husband is involved in something potentially threatening to his life, then it’s my job to know. I don’t want himto die; even just the thought of losing him makes my stomach churn. It’s always a possibility, considering his line of work, I know that. Yet, somehow, I never really considered it, never cared until now.
I wait for him, still dressed, on the edge of the bed, the phone in my restless hands. When he finally returns with a towel wrapped around his waist, his brows rise, throwing me a questioning look.
“You got some messages,” I say, handing him the phone.
His jaw clenches under that dark, wet hair as he slowly takes it from me, reading through them.
“What’s going on, Mikhail?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answers, throwing the phone back on the bed as he runs a hand through his wet hair, heading to the dresser.
I get up, following him. “Even your friends are asking you not to do whatever it is you’re planning. And ifthey’reasking you that—” I shake my head. “Please, talk to me.”
“It’s just work, Cecilia. You know what I do. Don’t ask me to be something I’m not.”
“I’m not asking you to do that! But this sounds dangerous. And it sounds like you’re leaving again. Tell me I’m wrong.”I really, really want to be wrong right now.
“You’re not,” he says, and my entire body stills. “It is dangerous. But like I said, you have nothing to worry about, because even if I’m gone, you’ll always be protected. Don’t think I haven’t taken you into account,Lastochka.”
I shake my head, stepping back from him, his words scurrying down my spine like icy snow under warm clothes. It’s not protection I need, but him by my side. How can he not see it? How can he not even acknowledge what we have?
For a second there, I thought…I thought we hadsomething. That he actually made some space for me in his hollow heart.Turns out, I’m the only one with skin in this game. And the worst part is, I brought this all on myself by letting him break down my walls.
“When?” I ask, my gaze taut. “And why? I at least deserve some details—or are you just going to fuck me and leave me like you’re coming to a brothel every night?”
He steps closer, removing the distance between us, then wraps his hand around my neck. I hate that my legs turn to water at the gesture. That I crave his touch, and that he can see it. “You forgot the part when I make you come. That’s no way to treat a brothel whore, now, is it?”
I snort through a creeping blush. “Lucky me.”
Releasing his hold on me, he gets dressed in a pair of briefs and gray sweatpants. I cross my arms at my chest, ignoring the demented beat of my heart at the sight of him half naked.
“This is because of Wolfgang, isn’t it? About the debt you’re so desperately trying to pay back.” He doesn’t answer. “Have you even stopped to consider that maybe the person you should be seeking forgiveness from is not him, but yourself? That maybe, no matter how much you do for him, you’ll never feel like it’s enough?”
“Everything has a price, Cecilia—everything and everyone. I don’t get to stop paying yet.”
“And then, after you’ve ‘paid’, what? You’ll stop beingyou? Stop putting yourself in danger?”
Silence.
“I should’ve known,” I say, “I should’ve known a man crazy enough to get himself captured by my father wouldn’t stop at that. You say you’ve taken me into account, but you haven’t. You dragged me into this marriage, and now, you’re about to leave me without a husband.”
“We are what we are. I wish I didn’t have to go, but what I want doesn’t matter. Some things just need to be done.”
“Right.” I nod, tears lodged in my throat, before I head to the bed and shove myself under the covers.
That night,I turn my back to him, pretending I need to rest when, in reality, I can’t stop thinking about our fight. Behind me, Mikhail has fallen asleep on his back, seemingly unbothered about the prospect of his death.
I don’t understand his calmness about this, but I do understand there is trauma in his past. Something triggered this decision for him to want to leave, and maybe if I find out what it is…or if I talk to him again once I’m less panicked, I could make him understand?—
No.
I shake my head against the pillow, knowing full well changing his mind isn’t going to happen. He already decided this without me. Seeing those messages was pure luck. Maybe the solution isn’t talking to him, but to Rodion or Niko, or even Wolfgang. But even that sounds like a shot in the dark.
My husband stirs, his big arm wrapping around my waist like it does every single night. I squeeze my eyes shut, my breath trembling as I let him bathe me in his warmth. I don’t want this to be one of our last moments together—I don’t want this to be just a memory years down the line. I want us to last, as crazy as it sounds.
Turning to him, I nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck, the same place I use as my pillow before sleep usually takes me. I can’t help it. He feels like a home I’ve never had, safe and liberating—the one place I get to be myself for once.
