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As she led him outside, he caught her arm in a gentle grip, stopping her.

The eyes that turned up to his were reddened, the lids swollen, her gaze hesitant and fragile. Yet those eyes were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, the most powerful weapon. They tore through his being with more force than bullets had torn through his flesh. For they made him want everything he couldn’t have. They made him weak. They overpowered him when nothing else ever had.

Fighting the overpowering compulsion to crush her to him, feeling as if shards of glass filled his throat, he said, “I know you have your family now, and that you never ask for help, but...I am here for you. Don’t let your independence or any other consideration stop you from letting me know what you need, now or at any time in the future. Promise me that if you need anything, anything at all, you’ll ask me for it.”

Her gaze clung to his, brightening with tears again, her still pale lips quivering in a semblance of a smile. “If I think it’s something you can do, sure.”

“I can and will do anything.”

Her eyes darkened and a faint flush spread over her now sharper cheekbones, seeping into her dainty lips as they opened on a tiny, sharp inhalation. He had no idea how he stopped himself from snatching her into his arms and devouring her.

Then with a nod that encompassed reluctance and acquiescence at once, she accepted his carte blanche.

Though he doubted she’d ever use it. He’d just have to keep watching her, even closer this time, and do a far better job at anticipating her needs and protecting her from the dangers of the world.

Then it was the moment. His role had ended, and his one-time pass back into her life had expired. He had to let go. Until she needed him again. Knowing her, barring another catastrophe, that would be never.

Knowing her loss would be a worse injury than what he’d suffered in the past, knowing he’d never recover from it, he said what he hadn’t the first time he’d walked away.

“Goodbye, Anastasia.”

Four

But I can’t say goodbye. Not again.

The words kept reverberating in Anastasia’s mind. Long after Ivan had brushed past her and walked to the limo that awaited him in the driveway. Long after it disappeared down the street.

And though the protest had exploded in her head when he’d said goodbye, out loud she’d said nothing. As if not saying goodbye herself wouldn’t make his real.

Instead, she’d just watched him go, willing him to turn, to say something else that wouldn’t make this final. Some promise he’d be back later, to at least check up on her. That this time he wouldn’t disappear from her life completely. That he’d leave the door ajar. Leaving it up to her to approach him, and only with a need, slammed it shut, this time forever.

Because she’d never ask anything of him.

But he hadn’t turned, not to qualify his goodbye, not even to give her one last look. She’d watched his limo until it turned the corner, still feverishly hoping that the man who hadn’t let her out of his sight for five weeks wouldn’t go like that. She had no idea how long she’d stood there before her hammering heart had slowed to the rhythm of resignation, the knowledge of the centerpiece fact she’d now have to build her new shattered life around.

He was never coming back.

It felt like her world had ended, for a third time. Two out of the three times it had happened, it had been on Ivan’s account.

But it wasn’t her world that mattered now. Her family needed her. It was what had finally made her walk back into the house full of all who’d loved Alex, where she’d plunged again in the surreal realm of being in his house knowing he’d nev

er be there again. Being among the people she’d been closest to since birth, contemplating all the ways their lives would be diminished and distorted in his absence had agonized her more with each passing second. But it had at least made it impossible to think of Ivan.

After a while, the presence of the mourners had turned from solace to suffocation for her parents and Cathy. As the one who’d dealt with the most brutal stages of Alex’s loss, it was up to her to take charge. Using up her last traces of stamina and diplomacy, she’d made everyone leave, put the shattered Cathy and kids to bed and taken her broken parents home.

Once she’d settled them down as best she could, and sought the sanctuary of her own room, she’d finally taken off the mask of strength. Closing the door behind her, she’d collapsed where she’d stood, letting misery drown her again.

Gone. Alex was gone.

And Ivan, too.

She’d lost him all over again.

Not that she’d ever had him. He’d only reentered her life on a mission. Once it was accomplished, there was no more reason for him to stick around. Now she knew why this demolished her.

When he’d been by her side day and night, she hadn’t been able to think ahead to the point in time when he’d leave again. She’d gotten so used to him being there it had felt as if the day would never come. That was why it had been such a shock when he’d not only walked away, but had also seemed as if he couldn’t bear being around her anymore, couldn’t wait to leave her behind.

That was what hurt until she couldn’t breathe. What made her feel as if the ground had been swept out from under her, making her feel she was plummeting into an abyss. Not only had he removed his support, but also his fervor to be around her.

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