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Her words give rise to a pleasant kind of warmth in my chest, but I bat it down immediately. “No. You’re not still playing matchmaker. Not after tonight.”
“I’m not playing anything. I’m stating the obvious.”
I shake my head. “It’s not obvious to me, and it’s clearly not obvious to him. If it was, he wouldn’t have walked away.”
Was my first thought supposed to be of you?he asked.
I hate that some selfish, sick part of me wishes that his first thoughthadbeen for me. In my fantasies, I’m the person who got Kirill through his grief. I’m the person he leaned on and was vulnerable with. Hearing it said so plainly that I’m not important to him at all, it crushed whatever kernel of hope I had left.
“Maybe he had a good reason,” she says softly.
Ilya’s death was tragic, devastating. I understand that. What I can’t understand is why his first instinct was to push me away.
“I don’t know, Nat. Maybe Lana and Alexis were right.”
“About what?” she scoffs. “Please tell me they didn’t give you relationship advice.”
“They actually gave me anti-relationship advice. They told me to stay away from Kirill. That he was not the kind of man who would be able to commit to me. So far, they’ve been right.”
Natalia waves that away like it means nothing. “Those two wouldn’t know the right kind of man if he slapped them in the face.”
I frown. “Slapping them in the face would make him the wrong kind of man, wouldn’t it?”
“You know what I mean. Lana is divorced and Alexis is still married, but cheating on her husband, right?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “With a few people, I think.”
“At the same time?”
“Do you mean ‘at the same time,’ like, all at once or—You know what? Never mind.” I wave my arms in front of my face. “Forget I asked for any clarification. I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”
“That is why you shouldn’t take advice from your sisters. You’re different than they are. Better.”
Better, I don’t know. But different? Maybe. When I get married, it won’t be for money or looks or fancy houses. I want my husband towantme. I want to know with absolute certainty that we choose each other, that we’ll be there for each other.
At the end of the day, I don’t think Kirill will ever be that guy for me or Yuliana.
“Whatever reason Kirill had for leaving, he should have found a better one to stay,” I say finally. “But he didn’t, so… that’s that. It’s over.”
With that, I’m done talking for a while. I look out the window, tears I refuse to let fall burning in my eyes.
9
KIRILL
Being in a strip club in the middle of the day is unsettling.
The windows are blacked out and covered with advertisements for liquor, vapes, and the club’s dancers. I’d figure the dancers themselves walking around the room in glorified lingerie and high heels would be advertisement enough, but what the hell do I know about print marketing?
What I do know is that neither method is working for me. I could not be less interested.
“Whatever you want is on me,” Leonid offers, lounging back in the booth with his arms outstretched. “Have a good time.”
I grimace and reach for my drink. “I won’t be here long.”
“An iced tea.” Leonid shakes his head, disappointed in me.
“It’s barely noon.”
