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“Of course, Mr. Antonov.”
* * *
It’s been hours. The doctor said he was on his way but has yet to arrive. Despite my best efforts, Simon doesn’t stop crying. He’s going to end up dehydrated, a very real concern. I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to do. Is it normal to feel like a failure of a parent? Because I’m definitely feeling it in spades.
I really don’t have any other choice. I can’t stand to see Simon this uncomfortable.
“Dahlia?” I call.
She rushes in, wringing her hands together anxiously. “Yes, sir.”
“Go get Natalya. Quickly.”
She’s out the door before I’ve even finished giving the order. I steel myself, determined not to let her get the better of me. Whatever feelings I have for her, I need to shove down and lock away. She doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. I will never forget what she’s done.
But when she walks into the room, I’m floored.
Fuck, I’ve missed her.
Those pretty blue eyes, red and puffy from crying. Her lovely blonde locks, messy and unkempt. Her lovely mouth, lips chapped from incessant worrying. Natalya is still the most beautiful woman on Earth to me. But she broke my heart, and I can’t let her know it.
I cast my eyes down to my son and refuse to look at her. The woman who plotted to kill me isn’t worth my attention or time. She won’t get a reaction out of me.
“Can I hold him?” she whispers.
I hesitate. The petty side of me wants to tell her to fuck off. No, she can’t hold my son. How do I know she’s not going to harm him?
“Please, Dimitri.”
The way she says my name… It knocks the air from my lungs. It’s no wonder I confused her for an angel when she has a way of sounding so sweet and gentle. If only I’d realized sooner that she was a devil in disguise.
Eventually, though, I do give Simon to her, but not without gritting my teeth. I keep careful watch of her hands. If she tries anything, I’ll stop her before she has a chance to blink.
Simon’s adoration for Natalya is more than clear. The second she cradles him in her arms, Simon’s ear-splitting wails sputter to nothing more than soft whimpers. She has a way with him, I’ll give her that much.
She’s quick to feel his forehead, press her ear to his chest. “It’s just a cold,” she says. “Do you have any children’s ibuprofen on hand?”
I don’t answer, only nod.
“And I think it might be a good idea for you to give him a bath,” Natalya continues, her words a little shaky. “In lukewarm water only. Make sure he’s drinking enough, too. And don’t crowd his crib with too many blankets or he might overheat.”
“He’s being fussy about drinking his water,” Dahlia informs her on my behalf.
“Then I recommend freezing some popsicles for him to suck on. Don’t give him ice cubes, that’s a choking hazard. But those kiddie-pops, the ones you can stick in a freezer… That should do the trick.”
“You should go back to your room now,” Dahlia says. “Thank you.”
She doesn’t even make it one step before Simon starts to cry again. I think he can sense her leaving. I feel strangely torn. Frustrated. Because I, too, don’t want her to leave. If only it were that simple.
Natalya hovers. “I can… I can stay here for a bit. Until he falls asleep. If that’s alright with you, of course.”
I tense up. A little over a week ago, the thought of the two of us in the same room didn’t fill me with anguish. I still won’t look at her, but I don’t have to in order to sense her sorrow and regret. She picks at her fingernails, holding her breath as she waits for a response from me.
“Sit down,” I order firmly. “Dahlia, you’re excused.”
“Yes, sir.”
I take a seat on the other side of the room. Watching. Waiting.Hopingshe doesn’t give an excuse to lunge, to react. Her every movement has me on edge. Now that I think about it, it’s almost cruel how trust works. It takes so long to build, but only seconds to destroy. Where once I wanted to hold her, kiss her,loveher, now something as simple as the scent of rose petals agitates me. It reminds me of how much I cared, how I made a complete fool of myself for letting her anywhere near me.
