Page 93 of Hate You Most

“Volkova,” she said after a moment. “You’re assuming the memory loss is the point of all this?”

“Yes.”

“And what exactly do you think you forgot that was important enough for someone to run your car off the road?”

Viktoriya inhaled slowly. “That is what I am trying to figure out.”

Dakota studied her face for a long moment before responding. “The police exist for a reason. If something suspicious has actually happened, they’re the ones who should investigate it. Not you, you're not a journalist or a police officer.”

Viktoriya shook her head. “They already decided it was an accident.”

Dakota sighed, rubbing her forehead as though the conversation itself had exhausted her. “Then it was probably an accident.”

“All three?”

“Viktoriya, you just started putting your life back together. You’re skating again, you’re making friends at the rink. You’re starting to remember things from before the crash.” She paused, her voice softening slightly. “Why would you want to drag yourself into something like this?”

“Because something is wrong,” she said simply. The certainty in her voice made Dakota fall silent, and for the first time since Viktoriya had walked through the door, the doubt in Dakota’s expression wasn’t just skepticism, it looked dangerously close to concern.

“There is something else too,” Viktoriya said quietly. The truth was bubbling up through her veins like boiling water, in an old and familiar way that had nothing to do with the crash or her memory loss. She understood now that the distance she kept from Dakota had never truly been about the accident.

Viktoriya rubbed her hands together slowly, searching for the right way to say it. The explanation had never been simple, even before the memory loss.

“The reason I have always been… careful with you,” she said, her accent sharpening slightly. “It is not because I didn't want you, it is because of where I come from.”

Dakota frowned slightly, but she remained silent.

“In Russia there are laws,” Viktoriya said. “You know this. There are anti-LGBT laws. Public figures especially must be careful. If there are rumors about you, about being with someone you shouldn't, then it is not just a celebrity scandal. It becomes a problem with the government, with sponsors, and with the federation. My father is a businessman with deep political connections. His name is known across Russia. If stories came out about me and another woman… and they were proven true, it would destroy everything. I would not be able to go home. I would lose my career. And my family…” Her voice lowered. “My sister and mother would never be allowed to speak with me again.”

Viktoriya looked down at the floor, her hands clasped tightly together now. “So I kept distance from you,” she said. “Even when I did not want to. Even when it hurt you, because that meant I had it under control.” Her accent had formed like a lump in her throat, and she could hardly be understood.

Her gaze drifted toward the windows for a moment, though she wasn’t really looking at the city beyond them. “But then I saw the articles,” she continued. “Those stupid gossip magazines and headlines. Footage taken from hotel hallways, from across the rink, from places where I did not realize someone was watching.” She let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Secret photos that were not secret at all.”

Viktoriya lifted her eyes once more, meeting Dakota's gaze.

“I tried so hard to hide it,” she said softly. “I tried so hard, but love is… a very difficult thing to keep hidden.”

The words hung in the room for a moment, honest in a way Viktoriya rarely allowed herself to be.

“When I read those articles after the crash,” she continued. “I understood something. It did not matter how careful I was, people already knew it. They already knew something was there. And if that was true—then Russia was never really option for me to return to.”

Dakota didn't say a single word.

Viktoriya shook her head. “If rumors are enough to destroy everything, then it was already destroyed long before the accident. I just refused to see it.” She paused, drawing in a slow breath. “And maybe that is why I can't go back. Not only because of the laws and not only because of my father, but because I do not want to spend the rest of my life pretending I am someone else. I do not want to pretend anymore.”

“Viktoriya,” Dakota said. “There’s something you need to know.”

Viktoriya’s chest tightened instinctively. “What?”

“Your mom,” she said, her voice lowering slightly. “She passed away in 2021.”

The words seemed to reach her slowly, like they had to travel through layers of fog before they could be absorbed in her mind.

“She… what?”

Dakota’s eyes softened immediately. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I thought you knew. It never occurred to me that you couldn't remember.”

Viktoriya stared at her, the meaning finally crashing into place all at once.