Page 37 of The Lies Between Lovers

“Not that I know of, but he also doesn’t need to. Someone else could show up. It doesn’t have to be him to get the job done. “

Vera’s brow furrowed. “What job?”

A sigh passed Hannah’s pursed lips. “Getting rid of me?”

“Hannah.”

To that, her friend lifted one shoulder like she was silently asking, “Did I lie?”

“Don’t say things like that,” Vera told her.

“Not saying it won’t make it any less true, Vera.”

“Yeah, I know, but—”

Hannah glanced her way, smiling softly again as she interjected with, “Maybe it’s easier for me to say because I heard it over and over and over again. Something he just drilled into my head every chance he could. Makes you a little numb to the whole idea.”

God.

Deep in her chest, Vera’s heart and lungs constricted from the swell of emotions that threatened to spill her tears down her cheeks. Before she could manage to form a reply—not that it would be anything that could make the two of them feel better about the domestic violence that plagued Hannah’s marriage—her friend readjusted on the lounger to recline back in the same way Vera had done with hers.

“You even start wishing for it after a while,” Hannah whispered.

No, that one did it, actually.

That comment had the tears welling and falling the next time Vera blinked behind her sunglasses. Maybe it was the picture her mind was able to conjure up of her friend, bruised and beaten, cowering, and defeated, hoping death would come so then the man who was supposed to love her would stop hitting her.

Hannah didn’t say whether she noticed Vera wiping away the streaks of wetness that slipped down beyond the large frames of her sunglasses.

“Maybe staying here with your mom is better,” Vera said.

“Yeah,” Hannah agreed quietly. “Maybe.”

A part of Vera wanted to ask Hannah what that meant for her life, though. What kind of a life could she have when she still felt like, despite putting a legal divorce and entire countries between her and her ex-husband, she wasn’t safe or free?

Instead, she chose not to ask anything at all.

It wasn’t the time, and Hannah’s ex also wasn’t why Vera made the surprise trip to Italy. She bet it was far easier for her friend to put it all in the back of her mind when someone wasn’t constantly talking about Viktor, too.

Hannah didn’t seem to mind the silence, and minutes crawled by with the two of them enjoying nothing more than the view beyond the tall, iron fence protecting the pool and each other’s company. Vera had to give her friend credit—there was no way Hannah didn’t suspect that something was up when her friend knocked on her door without warning. All the same, she hadn’t asked a thing.

She didn’t even bring up Paris.

Yet.

The familiar beep of Vera’s phone where she’d kept it safe from the sun in her bag under the lounge chair broke the silence. Hannah turned her way as Vera pulled the bag out, and fished for the phone. Once she had it in her hand, and could see the name flashing on her screen, she opted to ignore the call, turn off the device altogether, and shove the phone back into the bag without a second thought.

Hannah quirked an eyebrow high, asking, “Who was that?”

Vera sighed. “My father.”

“Since when do you ignore Demyan Avdonin’s calls?”

Well ...

“Since I found out he was still having me watched by someone on his payroll,” Vera returned.

Hannah made a face. “Ouch.”