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“So for now, I’m gonna stay here with the kids. I need some space. And they need to heal. Please listen to that. Please respect it.”
How can I respect it when it goes against my very nature? She’s pulling away from me, threatening to take the kids with her, and she expects me to give her fuckingtime? Fuckingspace?
The caveman in me is beating his fists against his chest with rage. This isnothappening.
But then I replay Reagan’s sad little voice in my head. I hear Caroline and Josh’s devastated words. This is not about me.
This is about them.
The more I push, the more resistance I’ll get in return.Some battles are fought in silence. Fyodor used to say that often to Leonid and me.
“Okay,” I agree at last. “I’ll respect it.”
“Thank you.”
The line goes dead. It feels like I’m swimming against the tide. The harder I swim, the stronger the currents become. It’s my own damn fault.I’mthe one who’s stoked those currents.I’mthe one who took a lighter to my own life.
But I’m determined to make it right. I have no clue how. But I know one thing—I’m coming back for Emma and the kids.
I’m coming back for what’s mine and nothing will stop me.
Not even them.
50
EMMA
Seven days.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen or spoken to Ruslan.
And, God help me…I miss him.
The kids do, too. They’ve been moping around the penthouse for the last week. Not even the gifts that come daily seem to cheer them up. They’re all smart enough to know when they’re being bribed.
Every time we get another delivery, I want to scream. As thoughtful as his gifts are, they’re also insulting. Does he really think he canbuyour forgiveness? He should have showed up every single freaking day until we relented and let him up here.
I know that’s not what I asked him for. I asked him for space and that’s what he’s giving me. But isn’t he smart enough to know the difference between what Isayand what Iwant?
Honestly.
Men.
“Caroline, how’s the reading going?”
“Fine,” she mumbles unenthusiastically.
Their new school encourages the kids to do half an hour of reading every day. Since they don’t have a big lawn to run around in anymore, I’ve designated the evenings for reading time. We all pick a different book, gather in the living room with a bunch of snacks, and read together.
It started off as a flimsy attempt to give the kids a distraction as well as a sense of togetherness. But it’s worked out surprisingly well. Although I’m pretty sure Josh spends more time in his own head than in his book.
“J? What about you?”
He puts his book down and shrugs. Then he looks out the window as though he’d rather be anywhere else.
Sighing, I give up on my own book, too. He’s had three therapy sessions this week and it’s only Thursday. I’m actually thinking of calling Alicia in for another session on Saturday if his mood doesn’t pick up soon.
I have half a mind to hide the gifts that Ruslan sends over. Maybe they’re the cause of Josh’s perpetually bad mood.
