Tears rolled down her face, and she looked away quickly. Without another word, she walked out.
No. That couldn’t be all.
I got up and ran after her. In the hallway, I saw Akim escorting her out.
“Is that all?” I asked, and she stopped. “That’s all you had to say? What about me? Don’t you have something to say to me? You’ll just leave again?”
She stood with her back to me, and I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever she did next didn’t change anything, that I was done waiting for people to turn around.
But the truth was, I cared. That was why I was crying.
“It’s not fair.” My voice broke. “Tell me you’ll call. Tell me we’ll see each other again. Just tell me something, anything. I don’t...”
Her handbag slipped and hit the floor. She turned and walkedback to me. Within a blink, she pulled me into her arms, holding me the way I remembered being held before she disappeared. The embrace was tighter now, desperate almost, pressing me against her hard enough for me to feel that warmth again.
“You aren’t supposed to cry,” she whispered into my hair. “Don’t cry.”
She didn’t know how many nights I cried when she was gone. She had no idea what those nights looked like, what her absence felt like.
I didn’t hug her back. My arms stayed at my sides while she held me. I didn’t want to hug her back because, deep down, I wanted this to happen again. She had to come back, and next time I would be the one who hugged her first. Because what if I hugged her and it became the last hug?
She pulled back enough to look at my face, her hands coming up to hold it. She wiped my tears the way Dad always did.
“I should go,” she mumbled. “But Mum loves you so much.” She leaned and pressed her lips to my cheek, a kiss that seemed to carry years of things left unsaid. “I have to go,” she whispered. “I have to protect you both with everything I have.”
Her hands slipped from my face. She stepped back, took the handbag Akim had picked up for her, and walked toward the exit.
I followed her along the hallway. “I’ll wait for you.” My voice echoed through the corridor. “Come back. If not for me, then for Cole. Okay?” She stopped for a second, then she continued toward the door. “I love you too, Mum.”
The door opened, and she disappeared. My legs gave up, and I slid against the wall. Before I reached the floor, Dmitri pulled me into his arms.
Chapter Fifty-two
Dmitri Konstantinov
I stood in front ofInna and watched her sit silently on the couch. Her eyes were swollen from crying, the skin beneath them pink and raw. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor as if looking anywhere else required more strength than she possessed. Back in New York, she sealed herself off , burying pain beneath work, distractions, and stubborn determination. What she was showing me now was what I had expected back then. Yet here I was, standing like a fool with no idea what to do with a crying woman.
I needed education in this sector. That much was becoming painfully clear.
Water.
Getting her a glass of water seemed like a reasonable place to start. I walked over to what used to be the bar, now stripped of alcohol and stocked with bottled water and soft drinks. I poured a glass, carried it back, and sat beside her.
She looked up at me for a second before scoffing. “You could have led with a hug.”
“Right. We hug first.” I kept my expression neutral. “Good to know the order.”
She rolled her eyes and took the glass. After a small sip, I removed it from her hand and placed it on the table. I settled back and pulled her against me. She resisted for exactly two seconds before her body relaxed into mine.
I let the silence settle. My hand moved slowly over her shoulder while I waited for her thoughts to catch up because I knew she would talk.
“I’m so angry at her.” Her voice was rough from crying. “But I’m scared. The way she talked made it sound as if she were saying goodbye. Like something might happen.”
“I’ll handle it.”
She lifted her head and looked at me. “How?”
“Nothing will happen to her.”
