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“Brother?”
Not a hallucination.Dammit.
“I forgot I gave you the access code to this place.”
Kirill’s eyes narrow. “I’ve been trying to contact you all night.”
I shrug. “Haven’t been… looking.”
“Jesus, man, are youdrunk?”
I scowl, contemplating throwing the almost empty bottle of gin at him. “I don’t appreciate the judgment.”
Kirill sits down heavily next to me. “It was Remmy. He was the one who got into an altercation with Emma. He didn’t push her down the stairs—shepushedhim; he just took her down with him.”
I squint hard until all three versions of Kirill refocus into one. “Okay.” I get to my feet, wobble, right myself. “He just signed his death warrant.”
Kirill blocks my path with a hand to my chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Gonna go find the motherfucker. Then I’m gonna kill him.”
“You’re in no fit state to leave this apartment.”
“Who’s thepahkanhere?” I growl.
Kirill doesn’t move. He grabs the mostly-empty bottle of gin that I’d forgotten I was holding. “How fast did you get through this bottle?”
“Who the hell do you think you are? Myfather?”
“Okay, pause. Can we rewind for a second?” He takes a deep breath. “What the fuckhappened?”
“I really need to change that stupid access code again. This is supposed to bemyfortress of solitude,” I mumble through fat, uncooperative lips.
He cocks an eyebrow and gestures for me to sit down. “It’s not. Thiswasyour fuckpad. Most recently, it’s been your Emma pad.”
At the sound of her name, my knees buckle and I collapse on the sofa so hard that I’m pretty sure I hear some of the springs break. Kirill perches on the coffee table in front of me.
“Brother…” He sighs. “Talk to me.”
So I tell him. About the ultrasound and the doctor’s revelation. About Emma’s reaction to all of it. By the time I’m finished, I’m fiending for another bottle of gin. Kirill seems to know exactly what I’m thinking, because he tucks the bottle behind him.
Little shit.
“I’m sorry,sobrat,” he says quietly.
I look away from him. “It is what it is.”
“So the chances of you having a baby with Emma are slim?”
“Slim to none, according to Dr. Dead-in-the-Eyes. Yes.”
Kirill balances his elbows on his knees. “And if it turns out that you can’t have a baby with Emma… what then?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s the next step?”
I have no idea what exactly he’s asking me. But it forces me to think about the next step. If Emma and I can’t have a baby together—what then?
