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CHAPTER 18
Dimitri
Tonight’s the first time we’ve had dinner together in a while, and I’ve avoided it for this very reason. Arianna looks at me differently, like she knows all my secrets and can see into my soul. I hate it. I don’t want her pity. Hell, I don’t want that look of compassionate understanding either.
After all these years, I thought the nightmares had run their course. I was wrong. Was it because of opening up to her about my childhood that has those memories resurfacing? Or is it because of my uncle’s sudden death?
I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I’m concerned about is looking weak in front of my wife. I’d rather she see me as the monster she thinks I am than a sad, little boy, crying because his daddy abandoned him.
Fuck. The only way I can think of to deal with this situation is to ignore it ever happened.
I awkwardly clear my throat, avoiding her gaze. Now that she’s finally giving me her attention, I don’t fucking want it. “We’re going to a charity dinner and auction next Saturday. You know how it works, be good and?—”
“I’ll behave, Dimitri. You have my word.” Her tone is gentle and soft—pitying. I fucking hate it.
“Good. See you then.” I stand up, quickly glancing at her stunned face as I leave the dining room in the middle of our meal. I won’t sit there for another moment while she pities me. She doesn’t know a fucking thing about my life. Unless…
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Maks asking him where he is.
Maks
I’m in the gym. What’s up?
Instead of replying, I head for the gym.
Inside, Maks is punching a heavy bag, and continues even when I march up to him and demand, “What the fuck did you tell my wife?”
“What makes you think I told her anything?” He grunts, his gloved fists jabbing at the bag in quick succession.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
He shrugs. “She mentioned you had a nightmare and wanted to know why, so I gave her the highlights of our growing up.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Why the hell would you tell her about that?”
He catches the bag to stop it from swaying, then faces me. “I think the real question should be why the fuck haven’t you told her about that? She’s your wife and she barely knows anything about you. Do you think keeping parts of who you are a secret is going to make her like you? It won’t. Part of the reason she hates you so much is because she only sees your worst side. Give her some perspective, for fuck’s sake.”
I scowl at him, annoyed and confused. “Why would I tell her about my weaknesses?”
“Because it shows her your vulnerability.” He sighs, clearly exasperated. “Vulnerability builds trust and open communication. I’ve seen you obsessing over her for what seems like forever, and now that you have her, you’re pushing her away. I know you want her. And honestly, I think she could be good for you if you’d just let her in.”
“What, are you a fucking relationship counselor now?” I snarl, irritated by his perceptiveness, and glance away.
“I just want to see you happy, Dima. Is that such a bad thing?”
Something like hope blooms in my chest. “And you think I could be happy with her?”
“I don’t see why not. She’s the only woman I’ve ever seen you this… focused on. Stop holding yourself back.”
Slowly, I nod, taking in his words. “Just because I want her doesn’t mean she wants me in return.”
“Then why don’t you give her a reason to like you?”
“Like what?” I glance at him.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, then turns back to his heavy bag. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Lying awake in bed, I think over what Maks said earlier this evening. Do I have any redeeming qualities? What does Arianna want in a man? I’ve never given either of those questions much thought. I just… I don’t know, figured that I’d take her for myself and somehow she’d be as obsessed with me as I am with her, because our connection has to be fate, right?
