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It also makes me realize how high the stakes are.
“I want to help, Bee, but I just don’t know how this is workable long-term. I don’t want my baby to be in danger, but I don’t want you to be in danger, either.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but bites her tongue at the last moment. “Thank you,” she murmurs instead. “That means a lot to me.” Then she clears her throat and that graceful smile comes back on her face. “It’s late. We should both get to bed.”
I have no idea what’s going through her head right now. Is she sad? Disappointed? Scared? As we mope out of the theater room, I’m on the verge of asking her when her head perks to the side. “Ah, Dmitri is home.”
It’s a cold reminder that this is their life, their home. I may be the mother of Dmitri’s baby, but it’s becoming more and more obvious that I’m the inconvenient accident in what is clearly an ongoing plan.
“I’ll let you say goodnight,” I mumble.
“Goodnight, Wren.”
She steps into the living room and I retreat to my room in a hurry so I don’t have to speak to Dmitri. But when I’m passing the second archway that overlooks the living room, I catch sight of the two of them.
And despite my best efforts, I hesitate.
Dmitri leans forward and kisses Bee on the forehead. It’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever seen. Affectionate, protective, and caring all at the same time.
Averting my eyes quickly, I rush to my room. But the image of Dmitri and Bee stays with me. Maybe that’s why he seems so angry with me more often than not: he probably wishes that Bee was the one carrying his child, not me.
I collapse into bed without even bothering to take my clothes off. Everything feels so murky and messy, and I can’t even escape to fantasies anymore because he’s become a part of each one.
There’s no way in hell that I’ll let myself be the wedge that drives them apart. So as I lie in bed, tossing and turning, following every possibility down to its logical conclusion, I inevitably wind up in the same place again and again.
The only way to let them live…
Is for me to take my leave.
23
DMITRI
I’m woken with a blunt force pillow to the face. “The fuck…?” I groan, looking out in bleary confusion.
Bee comes into focus in front of me. I grimace and tug the same pillow she’d just thrown at me over my head. “Go away, Bee.”
“We need to talk about Wren.”
I grunt louder in answer. “I’m fucking sleeping here. Sunday’s the only day I get to?—”
She yanks the pillow right off me. “Oh, quit your bitching and sit up.”
“I need to start locking my door,” I grumble as I struggle upright.
“Go right ahead. I have the spare key and even if I didn’t, you taught me to pick locks when I was twelve years old. You’d only have yourself to blame.” She plants her fists on her hips. “Wren’s having some serious second thoughts about this arrangement. Meeting my father yesterday just made it worse.”
“Shocker,” I mumble as I rub a knuckle in my eye.
“We need to consider telling her?—”
“No.”
“I’m not finished!”
“You don’t need to finish.” I drag my gaze up to meet hers. “I know what you’re going to say and the answer is still no. We can’t tell her everything.”
“If she understands the situation, she might be more willing to stay. She might feel like she’s a part of the group instead of an outsider here.”
