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My teeth gnashed together. "Don't make it seem like having sex with me was a chore. You’ve wanted it for months. I finally gave you the opportunity. Do you just screw anyone to be nice? Maybe throw in a couple of pills and call it a day? Is that what you call being a 'nice guy'?"
His face fell and I almost wished I could take it all back, but I was so tired of being lied to by the people I trusted most.
With my lips sealed, I dropped my gaze to the floor, and a moment later the door opened and then slammed shut. Hayden was gone.
I looked around my empty condo, feeling as hollow as my chest. All the material items gave the illusion of a dream world. Staged, perfect, and so far from the reality of my life. I rubbed my arms, trying to hold myself together.
For the first time in my life, the silence was unwelcome.
* * *
Rapid pounding roused me from my sleepy stupor. I rolled onto my side, wiping my hair from my eyes, and yawned. I felt like I'd just fallen asleep two minutes ago, but a quick glance at the clock on my nightstand indicated I'd actually been asleep for hours.
Damn, I was tired.
I sat up and stretched, my lower back throbbing viciously with pain so intense that it took my breath away. I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing it away.
I needed Motrin. Stat.
Slowly I stood, my body aching from head to toe. I was too young for arthritis, but it felt like there was no cartilage between my joints and it was just bone on bone rubbing together. I wiped my face with my shirt and expelled a fatigued sigh as I walked to the bathroom. I turned on the lights and flinched at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were swollen and red, just like my nose. When I cried, my lips swelled. It reminded me of Joy when she got Botox, only I looked like I had triple the amount in one shot.
Ugh. I was an ugly crier.
I grabbed the Motrin bottle and threw back five little orange pills before heading back to my room to face-plant on my bed. A loud pounding from the living room made me jump, and pain shot through my ankle. Shit. It felt like someone was holding a match to it. With everything going on, I’d forgotten I’d landed wrong earlier during my tumbling pass and I hadn’t treated it properly. I had become good at overlooking my injury and pushing through, but now I felt every ounce of agony in my body. I was a mess.
The pounding started up again and I exhaled a heavy breath as I made my way to the door and threw it open in haste. My frustration swiftly morphed into rage at the site of Kova standing tall and dignified on the other side, and dressed too damn good for his own health.
"Oh hell no! Go the fuck away. How dare you show your face here!"
"Ria—"
"Fuck you, Kova."
"Ria," he drew my name out. "Everyone can hear our business."
"You wrecked me, and I don't want to talk to you. You let me find out about your marriage in the worst possible way. You're so pathetic that you couldn't even tell me yourself."
I tried to slam the door shut but he curled his fingers around the edge to stop me.
"Go the fuck away! I don't want to even look at you."
"I will not go away until you open up." He pushed at the door and I used my hip to push back.
"Then you'll be standing there all night!" I yelled through gritted teeth. "I don't want to see you!"
"I just need to explain." His voice cracked, and I almost slipped.
"It's a little too late for that, don't you think? Go home to your wife."
I gave the door a good shove, and this time managed to slam his fingers between it and the jamb. Kova hissed but held on tight. I took satisfaction in that little feat.
"You know I am not trying, right? I could easily come in, but I do not want to hurt you."
"Too late for that. All you know how to do is hurt me."
"Prosti," he sighed, and I fucking felt his sorrow in that stupid Russian word.
Something exploded in my chest and I detonated like a rocket.
