Page 94 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

I stared at him. The sunlight was bright. People flowed in and out of the hospital entrance. An orderly pushed a wheelchair past us, the elderly patient glancing at us curiously.

"Congratulations," I said. "Want me to plan your next wedding? Returning customers get a discount."

Makar's face froze.

"I made a mistake." He lowered his eyes, voice dropping. "Briony, I finally understand now. You're a good girl."

"Don't." I almost laughed. "Don't dump me, humiliate me, marry my best friend, then come tell me I'm a good girl. You didn't say that before."

Makar's jaw tightened.

"You said I looked like an overstuffed couch in a dress. You said looking at my body disgusted you. You said touching me made you want to vomit." I didn't give him an escape route. I kept going.

Each repetition reopened old wounds slightly. Strange thing was, they didn't hurt as much as before. Maybe too much had happened these past two days. Maybe I'd finally realized that being rejected or chosen by a man didn't determine my worth.

Makar's face filled with discomfort. "I'm sorry."

I said nothing.

"After leaving you, I haven't slept well. I keep dreaming about you. About what we had." Those steel-gray eyes lacked Varlam's impenetrable calm, showing only young and direct regret. "Chloe just looks gentle. After marriage, I realized how cruel she is. She yells at waitstaff, bosses my friends around, everything has to go her way. She wanted the Petrov name, the money, the envious looks from others."

"So you discovered Chloe wasn't the woman you imagined, and now you want to pick me back up? Makar, I'm not your backup plan after a failed marriage."

Backup, substitute—both words stabbed like knives into my chest. What kind of brothers had I encountered? One treating me like a shadow of his white moonlight. Another suddenly realizing I was great after his wife didn't work out, wanting me back.

Makar saw my expression and softened his voice.

"I know nothing I say can fix this. But I can take care of you."

"I don't need it." I frowned.

"You and the baby."

I stared at him, speechless for several seconds.

"Is your brain waterlogged? I'm carrying Varlam's child."

Saying that name still made my chest tighten traitorously. Makar didn't look surprised.

"I know. But the child shouldn't pay for adults' mistakes."

Hearing those words from Makar was absurd enough to make me wonder if I was still feverish. He moved forward half a step, then stopped under my warning glare.

"I know about Varlam and Brinny."

My whole body went rigid.

"They were together before," Makar said. "Not casual dating. Varlam really loved her. After she left, he never truly got over it. Everyone in the family knows, they just don't dare mention it in front of him."

The sunlight warmed my skin, yet I felt the ocean's cold again.

"Thanks for the news," I said. "But you're two days late."

His brow moved.

"You already knew?"

"I saw who he chose with my own eyes."