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He was anything but cool inside. He was emotionally distraught. He was raw, ribs ripped wide open, bleeding love and despair.
Air expelled from my lungs.
Kova's gaze dropped to my stomach. My nostrils flared and I covered myself, looking away. I felt protective of what was no longer there, protective of my initial choice, but more so protective of my emotions because I didn't actually get a choice in the end. Neither did he. My biggest worry was that I was going to be blamed for the miscarriage. I didn't want to be blamed.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Dad and Sophia walking over to us. I stilled, panicking at the thought of how this would turn out. Did my dad even know he was here?
I turned my attention back to Kova to see if he’d noticed, but he hadn't. The light remaining in his eyes dimmed lower, his gaze staying where my hands were on my stomach. He wasn't angry at me like I’d worried he would be.
He was dying inside, like I was.
I swallowed hard, wishing it wasn't like this, fearing this would change us forever.
I heard their muffled voices before they came into full view.
Dad's eyes were fixated on Kova, glaring at him with hostility. I stiffened. Judging by how tense Dad’s shoulders were, I could tell he was irritated, but I also knew he wouldn't make a scene in public. I sat up straighter, my heart beating a little faster. Different scenarios flashed through my mind wondering how this would go as Dad sat down stiffly next to me. Sophia reached over to hand me the coffee cup, then she quietly took a seat next to Dad.
Kova didn't move his head, but he lifted his gaze and nailed Dad with it.
"Konstantin."
My eyes widened.
Kova con
tinued to eye him.
"Don't forget what we spoke about and the reason why you're here. Unless it’s regarding gymnastics, there will be zero communication between the two of you. You're here solely for her benefit in the sport, and nothing more. Do you both understand?"
I held my breath, waiting. Kova didn't reply, and that only skyrocketed the friction between all of us.
I nodded subtly and worried my bottom lip. Kova's eyes softened with guilt as he turned my way. A flash of regret shadowed his eyes before he turned cold. My chest deflated on a hushed breath. Kova grabbed his duffle bag and stood.
My heart stopped.
Gripping the armrests again, I watched him walk a few chairs down. He flung his bag to the floor then dropped into an empty seat. With one leg bent and the other extended, he slouched back and folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.
This was hell on earth for us.
Not seeing Kova for nearly two weeks affected me in ways I couldn't explain. Missing him left a profound ache in me that worsened with every second that passed. I thought about him every day. With him sitting so close, I wanted desperately to run to him and never let go.
God, I hoped he felt the same way.
I stared at him, not caring if Dad or Sophia were watching me. Our love was real, but something in my gut pulled on the knots tighter the longer I watched him. He didn't look my way. I stared at him, willing him to look at me. We'd have to choose between being in love and simply breathing. I knew it in my heart we would. We wouldn't get both.
Kova always said timing was everything. He failed to mention our timing would never, ever be right. I looked away. Love and breathing went hand in hand for us. He exhaled and I inhaled. That would never change for us.
I loved my dad. I never wanted to hurt him. But if loving Kova meant I was stabbing Dad in the back, then I'd take the knife and have Dad face a mirror to watch me do it. This weekend was an important one, and I wasn't going to hold back just because he was here and watching like a hawk.
I was elite gymnast Adrianna Rossi, and he was gymnastics coach Konstantin Kournakova. We were going to do our thing. Together.
I allowed a small smile to bare my heart.
"Understand that I’m against this," Dad said, leaning over his shoulder to me. "Him being here doesn't change anything. Do you understand me? You'll still be watched, and you will be coming home after this meet."
We were sitting in first class while Kova and Madeline were in coach. She almost missed the flight but luckily made it just in time before the doors closed.
We hadn't talked about Kova showing up. Of course, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask every question that popped into my head the moment we took our seats. By the grace of God, I stayed quiet. Dad obviously knew Kova was coming, otherwise his reception would've been entirely different. So, I patiently waited.
