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I shut my eyes with my throat tight and my body burning with fury. It's a joke, it's a lie, it can't be real. Father…he's not that bad, he couldn't—
"Are you alright, sweetie?" I startle when someone touches my shoulder, and I realize that the old couple sitting next to me is looking at me with concern. "Do you need help?"
"No, I—"
I don't even realize it when I get up on my feet and look around in a daze.
"I need the truth."
Chapter 11 - Louis
"What does that have to do with me, then?" I frown, not looking at Olga. My gaze is focused on the growing darkness behind the window and the reflection of the coffee shop.
She chuckles grimly. "They needed a scapegoat, of course. So Yuriy blamed it all on the Messinas, saying that you wanted to get revenge on her."
Oh, damn it. I put my elbow on the counter, rubbing my forehead. Now, it’s starting to make sense, but the realization only makes me feel bitter. How could Sasha blindly believe such a lie? How could she think that I'd do something so cruel?
Well, at least she knows the truth now.
As if in response to my thoughts, I hear a commotion behind me, some voices and the rustle of jackets. When I look up, I see Sasha standing a few feet behind me and looking around with a look of distress. I've never seen her so shaken and open in her emotions, and something in my chest tightens. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her hear all that—but both of us deserve to know the truth.
I noticed Sasha's car as soon as I entered Bedford Park, and it didn't take long to figure out that she was following me. Did she want to fight me again? Maybe. So my first instinct was to drive somewhere else to confuse her before taking a more complicated route to the coffee shop. But halfway through my plan, I realized that it'd take away my only chance to let Sasha hear the story of my innocence from Olga's lips.
She didn't believe me, but maybe she would believe her own aunt. So I turned around and drove straight to the coffee shop where I walked around for a bit, hoping to catch Sasha’s eye—and it worked. Everything worked out exactly as I wanted, and now it looks like Sasha needs a moment to process what she just heard.
With an inaudible murmur, she rushes to the entrance and out of the coffee shop. She doesn't even look behind, and it's a clear indication of her distress and confusion. I watch Sasha through the blurry window as she stops for a moment to gather herself together before running away to her car. God, it must hurt, but I'm sure it's for the better.
I sigh and lower my gaze to the counter while my thoughts drift deeper into my heart. If only she could trust me enough to let me talk to her and hold her through this pain. If only we could be an actual couple…
"Is that all you wanted Alexandra to hear?" Olga says with a smirk in her voice, and I blink in surprise and turn to her.
"You knew—"
"Of course I did." She quirks an eyebrow, looking at me from under the sides of her hat with a glint of amusement. Olga's previously gloomy expression is nowhere to be seen—it's obvious that she's just as good at hiding her true feelings as everyone else in her family. "My niece may be a good spy, but she's too young to be able to trick me."
Oh. Well…
"Thank you for helping me, then." I give her a small but genuine smile before turning away to the window. It's better if we show as little connection as possible. "It means a lot to me and my family, Mrs. Pushkova."
"You can call me Olga." She briefly squeezes my elbow with an oddly friendly tone before getting off the stool. I see her clearly in the reflection on the window, and she lingers next to me, fixes her coat, and looks around. "I think it's time for our families to find some peace, don't you think?"
Olga sends me a quick glance and, without further ado, walks away to the entrance, leaving me with a confused frown. And what is that supposed to mean? Aren't we at peace already?
I don't dwell on her words for too long, though—I have enough on my mind already.
I wait a few minutes before going out of the coffee shop after Olga and, reflexively checking my surroundings, go to my car. The rain has stopped, but the streets are still wet and bleary, lights dancing in the dark puddles. Where did Sasha go now? I get into my car and breathe out, leaning back. God, I hope she just went straight back home.
I rub my face, shake my head, and turn on the ignition when my phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket. Is it Sasha? But no, I see Omero's name on the screen, so it must be something for work. I feel mentally drained, and for a moment I consider ignoring the call—but eventually I pick it up. I wouldn't want to miss out on some fun.
"Louis?"
"Hey, man." I turn the steering wheel, driving out of the parking space. "I hope you're calling to say we just got a good deal. I wouldn’t mind some good news here."
"Well…" Omero clears his throat, and it's obvious enough that his news isn't good at all. Goddamnit. "No, not really. I'm just calling to ask about your wife."
Sasha? I frown. "What about her?"
"Do you know where she is?"
