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I blow Rei a kiss. “Nice talking to you,” I say brightly. “Don’t think about nonsense anymore.”

“Ilya—”

Too late. I am already stepping away from him. Dimitri is almost close enough now to see that something is wrong, which means I have about six seconds to reset my face into something less incriminating.

Rei calls after me, “You’re not denying it!”

“I’m also not confirming it. This conversation is now classified.” I turn on my heel and walk away before he can ask anything else.

Dignity: barely intact. Escape: successful.

Friday, I last until 1:12 a.m. before I unlock the phone again.

No new messages.

I roll onto my bad arm by accident and hiss.

Tomorrow I will not look for him.

Tomorrow I will look for him and call it a coincidence.

If he is with Sasha, I will be fine.

I will be so fine I will need a closed casket.

***

My ego leaves me.

Not metaphorically. I mean I can practically feel it step out of my body.

Because apparently a few days of silence is all it takes for me to lose whatever dignity I had left and start acting like a deeply unstable ex-wife in a mafia romance.

So naturally, I text him.

My prince: Got bored?

No answer.

I stare at the screen for a full ten seconds, like maybe the message offended him into temporary paralysis.

Nothing. So I keep going, because at this point my pride is already six feet under. I may as well jump into the grave with it.

My prince: Found a new whore?

Still nothing. My jaw tightens. Only I get to ignore him. He doesn’t get to Uno reverse this shit.

So I text again.

My prince: Answer me.

My prince: Actually no, don’t answer me. Die first.

My prince: No, wait. Answer me and then die.

My prince: You’re pissing me off.

My prince: Did you fall into a ditch?