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At some point, we end up on the couch with a box of tissues clutched in my lap and eventually, the tears dry up.
But the heaviness on my chest persists. Pheebs doesn’t ask me a thing. She waits until I’m ready to talk. But when I finally open up, I can tell her only parts. The club, the fall, the possibility that someone I can’t remember pushed me down that staircase.
It’s a horrible story, but it all pales in comparison to what I really lost last night—the chance at a family of my own. The chance to be a mother.
The chance to give Ruslan what he wants.
“Emma, I know this is hard, but you still have one functioning fallopian tube. You could still get pregnant, if that’s what you really wanted.”
I shake my head. “It’s gonna be so hard now. And it might take a very long time. I let him down, Phoebe. After everything he’s done for me, I’m letting him down.”
Frowning, she squeezes my arm. “Hey now, none of that. I’m sure Ruslan is disappointed, too, but that’s not gonna change anything between the two of you.”
I desperately wish I could tell her about the contract. It’s hard to explain this situation to anyone who doesn’t know the stakes.
“I’m afraid it will.”
“Emma, I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Phoebe says gently. “You’re not just the woman he’s sleeping with. You’rehis.That’show he looks at you.”
“He deserves better.”
Phoebe’s mouth turns down at the corners. She looks angry now. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare even think—”
“It’strue. From the beginning, it’s been one thing after another. I’m a fucking mess, Phoebe. All I’ve come with is debts and grief and bills. A dead sister, a nightmare brother-in-law, three dependents, and now, a defective fallopian tube.”
Her voice gets really soft. “Sweetheart, you are so much more than your problems. You have got to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
I grab a pillow and bury my face in it. I take a couple of deep breaths, then steel myself. “You’re right. The kids will be back soon and I need to be strong for them.”
Phoebe frowns. “No, that’s not what I—”
“I might as well put all my focus and energy on the three of them. They’re the only children I’m ever gonna have.”
I ignore Phoebe’s sigh and mope towards my bedroom. As grateful as I am for her company, what I really need right now is to be alone.
66
RUSLAN
I thought seeing her at the bottom of those stairs was bad.
I was wrong.
Watching her fall apart is worse.
Especially because she doesn’t fall apart like she needs to. All messy tears and furious denials and angry conversations with God. No—she recedes into herself as though she’s ashamed of her pain.
She barely meets my eyes. She barely smiles and sleepwalks through every conversation.
I understand why. She needs to put on a brave face for the kids. But every time she has to pretend like she’s okay, I know how much it’s costing her.
Which is probably why she kicked me out right after we returned from the park outing. “I’m fine. I just need rest, Ruslan. I’m fine.I’m fine.”
She repeated those two cursed fucking words way too many times for me to believe them.
Now, I’ve somehow ended up back in the penthouse on 48th, buried deep in a bottle of my finest gin. I’m dangerously close to being drunk right now but it’s been a while since I’ve indulged like this. I figure I’m allowed.
I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating when I see Kirill walk in and do a double-take.
