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A bark of a laugh explodes out of me. I ruffle my hair. “I told her the truth.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I can’t believe it either. I’m still shocked at how easy it was. The words just spilled out of me, Ulyana. Why was it no trouble to tell her about Kristina?”
The stiffness in her face blends away until she’s smiling kindly. Her shoes glide across the runner, not disturbing a single fiber. She’s able to move with the grace of a deer. Placing her hand lightly on my wrist, Ulyana widens her smile.
“It was easy because Galina has given you a new purpose.”
I withdraw from her touch. “Explain.”
“Ever since Kristina died, you’ve been adrift in an ocean of sorrow.” She lifts her hand sharply to stop me from interrupting. “Don’t deny it, Arsen. Your heart is beating with a drive it hasn’t had in years. You’ve shifted from using Galina for your plans … to wanting to make her happy.”
It’s as if I’ve been punched in the throat. I clutch at my neck, drawing in a rush of air to calm the explosion of nerves inside of me. It’s true. I do want to make her happy. Why else did I decide to let her keep her studio, to run it with my money backing it up? And when I saw how she’d been picking at her fingers until she bled, I was overcome with a scorching need to comfort her … protect her … to make sure she never felt such panic ever again, especially from me.
Leaning on the wall, I stare at Ulyana with a sense of foreboding. “I can’t let this happen.”
“It already has,” she says matter-of-factly.
“No. You don’t understand, Ulyana.” Tapping the back of my skull on the wall, I gaze at the ceiling like it might hold the answer I seek. “If I let myself fall for this girl, I’m putting myself … No, I’m putting her in danger.”
It will be Kristina all over again.
Gritting my teeth until they creak, I cradle my face in my hands. “What should I do? How do I stop this?”
I don’t see her approach me; I just feel her hands on my shoulders. She doesn’t offer comfort with her touch, but neither does she try to shake sense into me. What she does is speak in that rolling, flat tone packed with seriousness from end to end and filled with familiarity.
“You can’t. You must continue doing what you already are.”
Freezing up, I drop my arms, scowling at her. “You mean keep being burdened by guilt?”
“No.” She darts a look toward the kitchen. “Remaining open and honest with Galina. The door you opened can’t be shut again, Arsen Kirilovich. You’re right to be worried about your future, but you can’t forget hers.”
My attention goes to the kitchen doorway down the hall. I imagine her inside the room, the daylight dancing on her hair, her neck bent as she bows her head, waiting for me to return.
“It’s not too late to stop this.”
“It is,” she whispers. Ulyana backs away, her arms clasping at the middle of her back. There’s trepidation in her smile. “Without you noticing, she’s put her heart in your hands. And her heart is a delicate thing. If you drop it … you’ll shatter it in a way that can never be put back together. That’s what retreating means, Arsen Kirilovich. Her heart is yours, and you’ll never forgive yourself if you break it.”
“That’s not a responsibility I want.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Unable to come up with a response, I turn away, leaving her in the hall. I’m half out of my body, my feet touching the floor while feeling like they’re in the clouds. Instinct takes me back to the kitchen. Galina is leaning on the granite island, her back in an arch that would rival a tiger’s claw. She straightens up when she sees me.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
The sun comes through the kitchen window behind her. She’s highlighted on her edges, like she’s glowing from the inside. One hip is cocked to the side, increasing the dip of her waist. My fingers itch. I want to snatch her up. Touching her is like putting my hands on a hot stove, but I don’t care. Let me get burned. Scars are nothing new in my world.
“I’m taking you out,” I blurt.
Galina quirks her lips into a tiny line. “What?”
Shit. My mouth is going to get me in trouble. But now that it’s out in the open, I’m relieved. Spending time with Galina, just us, is exactly what I want. “Our marriage will be more convincing if we are seen in public.”
She puts her weight on the island to stabilize herself, a coquettish smile forming on her lips. “Arsen Isakov, are you asking me out on a date?”
“Is it that shocking?”
