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And he’s not even done yet.
“Where the rest of the world is concerned, we are husband and wife. Until the results of the paternity test come back,” he continues heartlessly.
“We’re just going to pretend?” I rasp.
“This was never about love. Not for me, anyway.” I flinch violently at those words, but he keeps going like he doesn't notice or doesn’t care. I’m not sure which of those options is worse. “I hoped for a cordial relationship with you, but that no longer seems viable.”
It takes every bit of strength I have to force words through the emotion clogging my throat. “But when the results come back—”
“If the paternity test proves that I am the father of those babies, then you will remain in my home and under my protection.”
Traitorous hope soars inside of me. He’ll believe me. He’ll apologize and things will go back to the way they were… Or, to the way they were headed, at least.
“You will have a comfortable life,” he says. “But it will be separate from mine. You will have your own wing in the house. And you will stay there. I have no intention of sleeping with you ever again. No intention of ever sharing a bed with you. But I am a reasonable man. After the children are born, you will be free to fuck whomever you want. Simply because I don’t give a shit.”
My shoulders slump. I search his face for any indication that he might be bluffing. Because if he isn’t, that means it’s truly over between us.
“You don’t mean that.”
He walks right up to me and looks me in the eye for the first time since he entered the ward. “Wrong. Unlike you, I mean every word I say.”
More tears roll down my cheeks unchecked. The heartbeat monitor I’m hooked up to is keening like a dying animal, but Misha turns away again. He looks more disgusted than ever as he makes for the door. Just as he’s about to disappear into the hallway, a nurse walks in, blocking his path. She takes one look at me and her lips twist with concern.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” She rushes to my side, but I’m not looking at her—I’m looking at Misha.
He doesn’t look back. He steps into the black mouth of the hallway and disappears.
And the rest of the tears come pouring like rain.
“What is wrong?” the nurse asks. “What happened?” She checks the machines beeping behind me and scans my body like she might be able to see the fatal blow Misha just dealt.
But I know she can’t. No one can see the shattered remains of my heart.
I grab onto her, sobbing into her shoulder and soaking her scrubs with my tears.
“Oh my. I see. There, there, my dear,” the nurse says kindly. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
But as much as I wish I could believe in them, her promises are empty and meaningless.
Just like my tears.
After a while, I manage to calm myself enough to form a coherent sentence. “Please, can you help me?”
The nurse looks at me with alarm. “Of course, dear. Whatever I can do.”
“I need to make a call.”
She nods. “You can use the phone by the bed. I’ll give you the extension to dial out.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and reach for the phone as she starts tapping numbers. I’m not sure this will work. I’m not sure if I’ll get the help I’m looking for.
But there’s only one person I can think of to call.
I have no one else.
94
MISHA
