Page 126 of Secret Husband


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“But what?”

“If you wanted me, why didn’t you seek me out when you came back from Russia?” I hated how desperate I sounded, but I had to know.

“I thought I had missed our chance,” he said. “That I’d hurt you too much.”

“Or you didn’t give me much thought at all.”

Was that what I was angry about? The wasted time, not just the last few months when he knew we were married but the years when he claimed to have cared about me, but he stayed away? So he had important work to do, whatever it took to rescue his father. I would never have begrudged him that. If he had told me about the fears he faced, the obstacles he had to overcome, I would have understood.

I would have waited. Done anything he asked.

But he didn’t ask. And because he didn’t, because he didn’t tell me how he supposedly felt, then or in Vegas, I couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust any of them.

My father’s lies had bent me to the breaking point, but I survived. Thad’s barely registered, almost like an annoying gnat, one I was happy to swat away as soon as I found a good excuse. I was more upset about how it affected my business than the doom it signaled for our relationship. You lied and used me? Bye bye.

Except I knew now why Thad’s betrayal didn’t hurt as much as it should have.

Because he was here. My great love waiting in the wings. Alexei was back in my life, appearing everywhere I looked. And we were married! The targets were lined up in the net and I was pounding pucks, hitting every one.

But my targeting was off. Tripped up at the last minute by my blind spot when it came to Alexei Nazarov. I had always been a fool for him, but no longer.

Now it was his turn to look wounded. “I have thought of you, Lauren. But we did not end well, did we? It didn’t mean I did not keep you inside, but a lot has happened. Playing in Russia, getting my father to the States, and for me to intrude in your life, it seemed like a long shot. I did not want to hurt you again, but when we met in Las Vegas, I started to believe that maybe there were more chapters to our story. But to convince you? This would be the most difficult challenge of my life. More than winning the Cup, more than pushing through the years of exile in Russia. To win you would be my greatest achievement.”

“That’s all I am to you. Another check on your bucket list—the Cup, your dad, a stellar career, oh, and you’re getting on, so probably time to settle down. Feather the nest pre-retirement. Make sure you have a warm body to come home to when it’s all done and dusted.”

He offered a mirthless laugh. “Do you think so lowly of yourself?”

Yes, I do. Daddy issues galore, which I fully recognized. But I couldn’t fix it with a guy as controlling as Alexei. He had always been too much for me to handle, and now I saw just how much I risked being consumed by him again, to the point where I vanished to nothing.

“I think I know you and guys like you. It’s always on your terms. And anyone else in your life is on a need-to-know basis.”

“I stand by what I did.”

Interesting strategy. Dig in your heels. Double down.

“You don’t see anything wrong with how you handled this?”

“Of course I do. But I also know that telling you the truth would have sent you running. Mezhdu dvukh ogney.” At my wave of query, he translated, “I was between a rock and a hard place.”

I shook my head. “Well, we’ll never know. Because you’re so fond of deciding how this should play out that you don’t even think for one second that I might have some say in the matter.”

He moved closer to me. “Lauren, I love you. I always have.”

My heart stuttered. Here he was saying the words I’d so longed to hear all those years ago. Now, I was older, maybe not wiser, but certainly more cynical about these things.

“Say something,” he whispered, the sound raw and heartbreaking. “Anything.”

I offered up the only words I could in this moment. Words that broke me but were necessary for me to finally move on.

“I want a divorce.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Alexei

* * *

At a little after six a.m., as the early morning sun dappled the knotted wood of my kitchen table, I took a sip of coffee and considered my wife.