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“I’ll meet you,” she tells me, sounding defeated. “Downstairs in the bar. Give me ten minutes.”
I place the flowers by her door. “Fine. Try not to throw these flowers from the balcony.”
GRACE
I run a brush through my tussled hair and re-tie it back into a messy bun on the top of my head. I pull on some leggings and leave the T-shirt I was already wearing because I don’t want him to think I’m making an effort. I check my appearance in the mirror, gently rubbing my pale cheeks. Morning sickness has begun, and I’m feeling awful. My tired-looking skin and dark-circled eyes show my struggles.
I step out the room and spot the huge bouquet of flowers resting against the wall. I groan, kicking them over in annoyance. Flowers can’t make all this better. I scoop them up and place them outside the room opposite my own, removing the card and stuffing it in my pocket.
I get into the bar and spot him right away. He’s sitting on a tall stool with his back to me, and his shoulders are hunched like he has the world on them. As I move closer, I catch his spicy scent and briefly close my eyes. It shouldn’t affect me the way it does every time I’m close to him.
I slide into the vacant seat beside him, and he glances at me like he’s surprised. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I thought about it but realised you’re never going to leave me alone until we talk, so . . .”
“Would you like some dinner?”
I shake my head. The bartender approaches, and I smile politely. “I’ll take a water, and he’ll have the same,” I order, feeling Ivan’s eyes on me. The bartender goes off, and I shrug, “You seem like the kind of guy who always takes the lead, so I thought I’d jump in there first.”
“Do you know how hard it is to sit beside you and not touch you?” he murmurs, staring down at his clasped hands resting on the bar.
“You’re so good with smooth,” I say, shaking my head in irritation. “Flowers, nice talk, but it’s all bullshit, Ivan.”
“I hate it when you curse,” he mutters.
“I hate it when you stalk me. I hate it when you kill the people I love.” He glances around to see if anyone heard before bringing his narrowed eyes back to me. “What, I can’t speak the truth? Isn’t that why you asked to see me?”
“I’ve made mistakes—”
I laugh, and it’s cold and bitter. “Mistakes?” I repeat. “What you’ve done is not make mistakes, Ivan. Mistakes can be forgiven, maybe forgotten, but what you’ve done to me, to the very few people around me, that’s just messed-up. It can’t ever be forgiven and is definitely never forgotten.”
“It has to be,” he mutters, sounding unsure, “because we’ve created a life together.”
“Now that,” I say, taking my water from the bartender and taking a big gulp, “that was a mistake.”
Ivan whips his head round to look at me. “Don’t say that, Grace.”
I slam my glass down, causing some of the liquid to spill over the edge. “I didn’t choose this,” I hiss.
He nods. “Okay,” he whispers calmly. “Let’s just calm down and work out where to go from here. Going over the past isn’t helping. We’ve done too much of that already.”
“We don’t go anywhere from here. Not together. You will go home and leave me to live my life.”
“And our child?”
“I haven’t decided,” I tell him, feeling a stab of guilt.
“What does that mean?” he snaps.
“It means I haven’t decided,” I say through gritted teeth. How can he expect me to make a huge decision like this after everything?
“I’m not going to leave here wondering if my child lived or not,” he hisses. “I can offer you a good life. In time, you’ll forgive me. I know you will.”
“Maybe that’s the problem, Ivan. Maybe you’re right and I’ll forgive you, and that scares the shit out of me. You’re not a man who deserves to be forgiven.”
“Can’t you see I’m changing? I’m changing for you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”
