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The kiss is brief, ending when I pull back. But for a brief kiss, it somehow stays with me, as heavy and overwhelming as full-body contact.
Every time I see another bruise or cut marring her body, I’m reminded of the fact that she almost died. And that if she had, it would have been my fault.
Just like with Maksim.
I promised to keep her safe, and I failed.
Just like with Maksim.
“Stop thinking, Misha.” She pulls me out of my black hole for the second time in as many minutes. “Just stay here with me.”
I try. I pull off her sports bra and then her underwear. Her beautiful, pregnant body stretches out in front of me.
Newly scarred. Covered in the proof of my failure.
3
PAIGE
She spotted me from the end of the driveway. She waved, a smile on her face.
In the last seconds of her life, Rose was thinking about the stupid file she needed to give me.
I don’t even have to guess what she would have been thinking about if she knew she only had seconds to live.
Her daughter.
One moment, she was there. The next, there were only pieces of her.
Humans are so fragile. So easy to kill.
I can’t stop thinking about how temporary life is.
And how much of it we waste.
* * *
I wake up gripping my pillow tightly. I’ve sobbed into it so hard it’s soaked through.
His arm wrap around me gently—at first. But his hold tightens the more I cry.
Misha’s body is pressed against my back, spooning me tightly like he’s trying to take some of my pain with his touch. Amazingly, it does work. A little, at least.
“Don’t let me go, Misha. Don’t let me go.”
He doesn’t say a word. Maybe he recognizes there’s nothing he can say. He just holds me and waits for me to stop crying. When I finally do, he soothes me back to sleep.
Where the nightmares wait.
* * *
The next time my eyes open, I’m shaking with guilty sobs yet again. And again, he’s still there, ready to shield me with his body, ready to give me some of his strength.
The sobs are softer now. The images in my head are just as visceral as they were before, but I’m already learning to live with them.
Humans may be fragile, but we’re also adaptable.
I roll over so I can see Misha. His face is half-covered in shadow, and what I can see of his silver eyes looks otherworldly in the pale light coming through the window.
