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With that threat ringing in his ears, I walk out of the motel room feeling better than I have in days.
It feels good to hit something.
69
PAIGE
Inviting Cyrille and Ilya to lunch was an impulsive decision. After waking up to an empty bed again, I needed the company.
It’s not like I expected anything different. But hope can be an extraordinarily difficult thing to squash. It rises up no matter how many times Misha tries to beat it down.
I’m waiting in the greenhouse—as far from the main house and Misha as possible—when Cyrille and Ilya arrive hand in hand.
“Paige!” Cyrille greets.
She gives me a hug, but Ilya stays at her side. He’s armed with his backpack and a video game.
“It’s good to see you again, Ilya.” I gesture to his backpack. “Were you worried you’d get bored? I know the wedding planning yesterday wasn’t much fun.”
He glances at his mother. “I wasn’t bored.”
“Well, I sure was,” I give him a wink. “That video game you were playing looked really cool. I understand if you want to keep playing that. But I also heard you might like airplanes?”
He lights up, then quickly schools himself back to calm. “Yeah! I love them.”
“Your mom mentioned that you enjoyed puzzles, too. So I thought I’d take a chance and get you a little gift.” I reach behind the nearest shelf and pull out the long wooden box that I didn’t have time to wrap. It arrived only a half hour before Ilya and Cyrille.
“Whoa,” he breathes, his eyes widening with excitement as he reads the label. “It’s a model military plane!”
“Bingo. Maybe you can hang it in your room when you’re done building it.”
I pass it to him and he looks at the box in awe, holding it like he’s scared to smudge his fingerprints over the packaging. “Can I start now?”
“Have at it,” I encourage. “I cleared a space for you right over there just in case.”
He hurries to his little corner to get started, a smile on his face.
Cyrille looks after her son for a moment then turns to me with grateful eyes. “That was sweet of you.”
“It was my pleasure. I wanted to make sure he had a little fun at least.”
She sits down in the chair beside me and sighs. “Sometimes, I think he forgets that he’s allowed to have fun. I know it’s been months now, but it still feels like it was yesterday.”
It’s the first time she’s referenced Maksim’s death. Truth be told, it’s the first time she’s talked openly to me at all. Nessa and Nikita dominated the conversation yesterday, which is why I invited Cyrille today. I want to get to know her, too. If only because knowing another woman who willingly married into this family might be helpful.
“I lost my best friend when I was seventeen,” I admit. “It’s been over a decade and I still feel that way.”
“Ah, so it doesn’t get easier.”
“It does,” I say gently. “In its own kind of way. But you’ll never stop missing him.”
“Nor would I want to.”
Already, I can feel a kindred spirit in Cyrille. Maybe she feels the same way, because she immediately sheds the formalities, reaching over to touch the back of my hand where it rests in my lap. I don’t feel like “the don’s wife” with her. I just feel likeme.
I wonder if she knows what a blessing that is.
“Are you okay, Paige?” she murmurs. “I know that entering this family can be overwhelming. I’m sure your introduction—or lack thereof—didn’t make it any easier.”
