He doesn’t do puzzles with just anyone, and the more time he spends with her, the more he welcomes her into his world. That’s going to be a problem when she leaves.
Unless I find a way to keep her with us for good.
You can marry her…
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mutter a curse. There’s no way she’d ever agree to that now that she knows who I am.
Who says she has to agree?
Blyat. Net.
I can’t do that to her. Not after everything she’s been through. If it ever comes to that, it has to be her choice. She has to say yes on her own.
I continue to watch them, unable to look away. This is what Lev should’ve had with his mother. Someone who loves him, who wants to be there.
My blood turns hot when I think about that woman. He doesn’t need her. He has me. He has Sloane. And that has to be enough.
They place the last piece, and she throws her hands in the air, grinning when he copies her. Then he crawls right onto her lap. Her arms slide around him and pull him close as he tucks his face against her chest, hands hooked behind her back.
For a long time, I was the only one who could give him that. But not anymore, and I’m okay with it.
She drops her chin to the top of his head and shuts her eyes, like she’s found somewhere she can be safe too.
I drag a hand down my face. Staying away from her is already tearing at me, and seeing her like this with my son only makes it harder.
Every instinct in me wants to walk out there, sit on that rug, pull her back against me, and let Lev fall asleep between us like we belong to each other. Like it’s always been us.
Instead, I remain here, even though it kills me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SLOANE
Over breakfast the next day,I try to act like I’m fine, even though my nerves are shot. Eli is probably going to text me at some point to ask what happened at the auction. I keep wondering why he didn’t message yesterday.
Then a sudden thought hits: what if he’s dead? That would definitely solve most of my problems.
Ignoring my dark thoughts, I force myself to smile at Lev, who’s sitting beside me finishing his food with his small hand wrapped around mine like he needs to make sure I don’t disappear. I don’t know why that breaks my heart a little, but it does.
Kirill watches us over the rim of his coffee mug, the corner of his mouth lifting as he lowers the cup.
“Before I forget…” He reaches into his pocket, sets a black card on the counter, and slides it toward me. “This is for you.”
My body goes still.
“It’s connected to my account, so it doesn’t have a limit. Use it for whatever you’d like.”
I just stare at it, not sure what to do.
“Kirill, please. This is too much. Between the car, clothes, the salary…I can’t take this. It makes me feel like I’m using you.”
“Malyshka…” He laughs deep in his chest. “You’re not using me. I promise. It makes me happy to see you happy. So please take it.” He nudges the card closer.
“Is this how you treat all your friends?” A nervous laugh bubbles out.
Something tightens in his face, a muscle in his jaw ticcing once. He doesn’t answer, simply goes back to eating like he didn’t hear me at all, and suddenly I can’t swallow another bite.
Because I don’t want to be his friend. Somewhere along the way, he became more than that, and no matter how many reasons I stack up for why he isn’t right for me, I keep falling anyway, deeper with every passing day.
