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It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in. I blink at him while my brain buffers.
“We’re leaving?”
Ivan’s expression hardens. His jaw clenches and his gaze shifts from above my shoulder to the opposite wall. “Youare. As soon as possible.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
The word is finite. Immovable. In it, I hear what he’s actually saying:goodbye.
“What if I don’t want to go?”
“This wasyourplan,” he says. “I saw the pro and con list you made while you were staying at Jorden’s house. You two were planning to leave. You were going to run off and start over somewhere new.”
It was only last week that Jorden and I sat in her small kitchen and made that list, but it feels like a lifetime ago. I was a different person living in a different world. One I thought I could control. Now, the idea that I could boil down everything about my relationship with Ivan into a few pro and con items is laughable. As if it’s not infinitely more complex than that.
“That was before—”
“I know. So now, you have even more reason to leave.”
“That was before I realized I was wrong about you,” I finish.
His mouth works side to side. Then he picks up the clothes from the dresser and tosses them onto the bed next to me. “This has nothing to do with me. You can’t stay here. You knew that before and I’ll remind you if I have to. It’s not safe, Cora.”
“Nowhere is safe.”
“If it’s about money, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of,” he continues as if he can’t hear me. “I told you I’d pay you for your time and I will. I’ll include the last week and give you overtime. You’ve earned it.”
“This isn’t about money! I don’t care about money. I care about—”
“I have a private jet waiting for you,” he plows ahead. “There are going to be several different legs of the trip to shake anyone who might be tailing you. It will be a lot of travel, so I ordered you some clothes and got a suitcase packed. All you need to do is get dressed and then we can—”
“No!”
It’s hard to feel powerful and in control when I’m wearing nothing but a bedsheet, but I do my best. I stand up, hand pressed to my chest to keep myself covered, and lift my chin.
For half a second—maybe even less—I consider just listening to Ivan.
Maybe starting over fresh would be a good idea. It’s what Jorden and I decided on originally. One man can’t possibly change my plans that much, right?
I look at him now. His stubbled jaw. The trace of bruises on his cheeks. The scratches and scrapes on his forehead from shrapnel and fighting last night. Fighting that he didfor me. To rescueme.
“You can’t force me out,” I say. “I have a choice here, don’t I? It’s finally my turn to decide my future. I deserve the life I want.” I jab a finger into my chest. “The lifeIwant. Not the oneyoudecide for me.”
He drags a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m making a decision that gives you a life. I’m helping you survive.”
I take a deep breath and look Ivan directly in his eyes. “I don’t want to be safe somewhere far away. I want to be here with you. I love you, Ivan,” I whisper. “I love you whether you love me back or not.”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
I’m not sure what to say to that—which works out nicely, because Ivan doesn’t give me the opportunity.
“‘Whether I love you or not.’” He scoffs. “Would I have done anything I’ve done in the last couple weeks unless I loved you?”
It’s my turn to frown. “Um… I don’t—”
“Why would I allow a woman as disgusting and vile as Francia into my house unless it was to save the life of the womanIlove? Why would I have risked myself and my men rescuing you last night if I didn’t love you?”
