Page 40 of Breathe Like Hell

I’d already made the decision to leave Micah’s house, and I couldn’t change that now.

When it was time, I pulled the cord to request a stop, and the bus stopped at the sign near Mila’s apartment complex. I thanked the driver and stepped off, not wasting time before I set off towards Mila’s place at the same quick pace as earlier. It was brighter in this area, more densely populated, with plenty of shitty little restaurants and the occasional dollar store or gas station. Surely a demon wouldn’t want to be seen here.

Her complex came into sight a few minutes later and I finally felt like I could breathe again as I crossed the cracked parking lot. I saw both her silver SUV and Ivan’s old Chevy Tahoe parked in their usual spots, the familiar sight further soothing my anxiety.

I trudged up the steps to the landing, then turned to continue up the other way—and paused. Ivan was sitting on the top step, smoking a cigarette, staring out at the sky. The cherry glowed red through the darkness, brightening when he took a drag.

“Vanya?” I questioned.

“Hey.” He slowly turned his gaze to meet mine, lines creased between his brows and his mouth turned down. He took another long drag of the cigarette, smoke drifting away into the cold evening air. He looked exhausted.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. There’s just a lot on my mind right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I questioned, my nose starting to run from the cold. I shifted my weight onto one foot, leaning against the railing.

“You’ll—” he waved his hand toward the direction of the apartment “—you’ll see inside. It’s about Katya.”

“Is she okay?” A tiny spark of panic blinked brightly in my brain.

“Yes. Yes, she’s fine.” He let out a long exhale and raked a hand through his hair, eyes squeezing shut. I could see the tension in his shoulders when he leaned forward to prop his forearms on his knees. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh,” I breathed, unsure how to react. Based on Ivan’s demeanor and the fact that he was smoking a cigarette right now—which he rarely did—I assumed this wasn’t a planned or desired pregnancy.

“We’re not keeping it,” he added. “It wasn’t really a hard decision, but you know. Still a lot to think about. Even though we already knew we didn’t want kids. Just makes you wonder about shit.”

“I’m sorry.” I ascended the few steps between us and sat down on the top step with him, joining him in gazing out over the parking lot.

“I have a ring.”

“What? You do?” Excitement brightened my tone and I adjusted how I was sitting to look at Ivan’s side profile. This conversation was successfully distracting me from all my own shit, and I needed that. “Tell me more. Are you going to propose?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “It was supposed to be soon, but I don’t want her thinking I got this idea only because she got pregnant. You know?” Ivan managed to crack a half-grin, a dry laugh falling from his lips, but I could tell this had been weighing on him.

“She won’t think that. She’ll be so happy. Can I see the ring?”

“I don’t have a picture, but it’s inside. Have Mila show you tomorrow, when Katya and I are gone. Just in case.” He brought the cigarette to his mouth again, inhaled, then exhaled slowly. I watched the mesmerizing swirl of the smoke as it dissolved. “I actually got the ring from that pawn shop you like.”

“I wouldn’t say I like the pawn shop,” I laughed. “It’s just very close to a bus stop, so it’s convenient. And I always need money.”

“Well, I’m going to continue associating it with you.” Ivan tapped some ash off his cigarette and rubbed his palm over his short hair. “I sold some stuff there to get the money for the ring, too. The owner is chill.”

“Yeah. He’s always been nice to me,” I agreed.

“Anyway. Yeah. She’s pregnant. That’s why I’m out here smoking a fucking cigarette.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A car pulled into the parking lot, headlight beams bouncing, tires crackling on the uneven pavement. I could hear the muffled music from here, the bass vibrating through the air.

“Okay go inside. It’s cold as shit out here. I’m sorry for intercepting you.” He laughed and motioned for me to go.

“That’s okay.” I stood up and brushed off my jeans, tugging the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder.

“I’ll probably see you inside soon. I’ve only got one more cigarette in this pack.”