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Distraction, distraction, distraction…
I lean in and kiss him, my tongue circling his, waiting for the pool of desire to knock me off my feet like it always does. But I’m too aware of everything. I feel clumsy and self-conscious. I feel the lump in my throat settle over my chest. And it hits me: I don’t need sex; I need to cry.
And just like that, a giant, ugly, uncontrollable sob escapes out of my mouth—and lands on his.
He pulls back, startled. “Emma?”
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…
“Are you crying?”
“N-n-n-no.”
“What happened?”
“Oh God,” I whisper through my tears. “I’m so s-sorry.”
I sure know how to spice up sexy time.
“Did I hurt you?” The fact that he even asks makes me sob harder. “Emma, what’s wrong?”
I just shake my head, unable to speak. I know that, if I try, everything will just come out in a warbled mess of unintelligible sounds. And I’ve already embarrassed myself plenty for one night.
I yelp, taken aback when Ruslan gathers me in his arms and gets to his feet. I cling to him as he walks me into the master bathroom and sits me down on the chaise lounge that sits opposite the gigantic drop-in tub.
As he starts filling the tub with water, I try to compose myself. That turns out to be a mistake in its own right; I just end up sobbing harder. I catch the scent of rosehips and hibiscus and, when I look towards the tub, I see a gentle pink foam bubbling on the surface of the water. Ruslan extends his hand out to me and I slip my fingers through his without even thinking about it.
He says there can’t be any romance here, but this feels like love I can fall back on when I’m not even sure I can stand upright on my own two feet anymore. I’m so beyond confused by Ruslan Oryolov. In the morning, I know I’ll look back on this and be confused even further.
But for now, for tonight…
I need him.
He pulls me to my feet and starts undressing me. I stand there, biting my lip, trying to get my game face on. But once we’re in the tub—him at my back and me staring at the pretty little foam bubbles that caress my skin—he doesn’t make a move.
He keeps his hands thrown over each side of the tub, while I lie nestled between his legs, my bare back pressed against his naked chest. By the time I stop crying, the foam has dissipated somewhat and the silence has gone on so long that it’s become comfortable.
When I finally break it, my voice comes out all croaky. “Today is… Sienna’s birthday. Or… it would have been.”
His right arm leaves the edge of the tub and wraps around my waist.
I rest the back of my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know why this day hit me so hard this time around.” I sigh. “I guess it was a few things. I came home late last night expecting to find the kids asleep. Amelia had gone home an hour earlier and Ben was supposed to be with the kids…”
“He wasn’t?” There’s a tiny little snap in Ruslan’s voice.
“No, no, he was. He just happened to have thrown up on the living room floor and passed out on the sofa.”
Ruslan’s arm tightens around my waist.
“I walked in to find Josh on his hands and knees, cleaning it up. His eyes were swollen, so I knew he’d been crying. I thought the kids would be okay with Ben for that hour. It was justonehour.” Thankfully, I’m all cried out. And I’m finding that saying all this out loud is really helping. “I helped him clean up but he barely said a word the whole time. He was just so… out of it. Even when I put him to bed, it was like he was lookingthroughme.” I shiver with the weight of my failure. “I wanted to make Siennaproud. I wanted to be the best stand-in mother I could be for her kids. But…” My breath hitches up but I force myself to say it, the thing I’ve suspected for quite some time now but never dared utter aloud. “… I don’t think I’m a very good mother.”
It would have been theonlygift she’d have wanted today. And I couldn’t even give her that.
“Emma. Youarea good mother.”
I flinch. “You’re just saying that.”
“I never ‘just say’ anything.”
