Page 57 of Hate You Most

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“How long have we known each other?” Viktoriya asked. “You and me.”

Brooke froze. Then she laughed, light and a little off. “Uh—wow. You're just going for it, huh?”

Viktoriya frowned. “I don't remember you at all. Sorry.”

Brooke’s eyes flicked toward the kitchen. Toward Dakota. “Oh,” she said. “Right.” The laugh faded. She shifted her position on the couch twice. “We've known each other for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Viktoriya pressed gently.

Brooke opened her mouth to speak but then Dakota's voice cut in from the kitchen. “Brooke? Can you help me grab something from the kitchen?”

She looked in Dakota's direction. “Yeah. Sure.”

Brooke stood quickly, disappearing into the kitchen.

Viktoriya stayed very still. From where she sat, she could see them through the glass partition that separated the room. Dakota leaned against the counter with her arms folded as she spoke in a low and hushed tone. She couldn't make out a single word of their conversation. Brooke stood opposite her, with her arms crossed too tightly and nodded slowly. At one point she shook her head, her jaw clenched.

Viktoriya’s stomach tightened. They were clearly talking about her.

Hannah moved down the stairs and joined her on the couch. She must have seen the look in Viktoriya's eyes because she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Dakota is just being careful,” she said. “We were all briefed about not mentioning anything that could upset you.”

Viktoriya nodded. Her brain was still healing, of course.

Hannah leaned even closer, her blonde curls nearly rubbing against Viktoriya's neck. “It's a little jarring, really. We didn't know you were staying with her again.”

Viktoriya's pulse skipped. “What do you mean?”

Hannah smiled, leaned close again. “I mean—we knew about the accident. Obviously. We all kind of thought you weren't staying here. It's good to see, though. I've missed having you around.”

Viktoriya had no idea what that was supposed to mean. They were married, had they not been living together all this time? If they hadn't been living together, where the hell had she been staying? She pushed the thought out of her mind when she realized Hannah probably wanted a response from her and not just an odd silent look.

“Oh,” Viktoriya said. “Yeah. I'm staying here—again.”

Maybe she'd taken a long vacation, or something else that kept her away from Dakota for an extended period. Maybe it had something to do with her taking time off from skating. Maybe it had something to do with her wife. Fuck—her wife. The thought was still completely distant to her. She didn't feel married, especially not to Dakota.

“That's so great,” Hannah said. “Dakota didn't say much about it. Just that you needed rest.”

The kitchen door slid open. Dakota re-entered the room with a smile on her lips.

“Sorry,” she said lightly. “I needed Brooke in the kitchen for a moment.”

Brooke didn’t meet Viktoriya’s eyes after that. Something had shifted.

The remaining conversations stayed polite, surface-level. Nobody dared mention Viktoriya and Dakota in the same sentence. Nobody referenced anything other than skating. The word wife was conspicuously absent.

When everyone had finally left, the apartment felt strangely hollow. Dakota locked the door and leaned back against it, eyes closed for a moment longer than necessary.

“You did great,” she said, opening them.

Viktoriya crossed her arms. “They didn't know we were together. You didn't tell them.”

Dakota didn’t deny it. “They didn't need to know.”

“Why?”