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It’s more than I expected. Probably more than I deserve.
I decide to give her one last warning. “Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss, Wren.”
“I know that. But I’ve lived with ignorance for long enough. I want to understand why you did what you did. It’s the only way I can… we can…”
She leaves the sentence unfinished, but I understand exactly what she means. It’s the only way the two of us have any hope of being more than co-parents.
So, despite my reservations, I launch into it from the start.
I repeat things she already knows. How Cathal had it out for me. How he picked the perfect scapegoat to use against me.
She listens unflinchingly, right up until I mention Elena’s name.
“Elena hated leaving the apartment,” I explain. “She was borderline agoraphobic. She had weekly appointments with a therapist, but Dr. Seraphine usually made house calls. The idea was that, when Elena started to make progress, she would start going to Dr. Seraphine instead of the other way around.”
Wren leans in. “Can I ask something? Why didn’t Elena like to leave the house?”
I pause and weigh the question. “She called herself an introvert. But the truth is, I think she was just scared. She was raised in the foster system and it abused her. Once she found a safe place with me, she just didn’t want to leave it.” I pause for another second, recognizing some old regret from another lifetime. “The irony was…”
“Your world isn’t a safe one,” Wren finishes for me.
I nod. “Exactly. The therapy sessions started after Elena was targeted driving home from a spa day with Bee. She was shot at several times and one bullet managed to pierce her arm. It was a flesh wound, nothing serious, but the experience shook her to the core. After that, she refused to leave the penthouse under any circumstances. I gave her time, but when it became clear she was getting worse, not better, I had to bring in reinforcements.”
“Did the doctor help?”
“Four months of intense therapy and Elena finally decided to leave the apartment to meet Dr. Seraphine in her office. The first session went well, so Elena agreed to go the next week, too. I thought it was… I thought it was the beginning of a new chapter.”
My jaw clenches painfully. I feel a weird sense of pressure build inside me. What the fuck is that?
Oh, right.
Regret.
“Dmitri…” Wren’s voice is soft and gentle.
Why does it sound like she’s the one trying to comfort me? That’s backwards. That’s just fucking wrong.
I glance at her and Elena’s face folds into Wren’s. Will that always be the case? Will I always see Elena in the shadows between memories?
“I should have driven her there, back, everywhere. I should’ve never let her out of my sight.” My voice sounds curt and gravelly to my own ears. God only knows how broken it sounds to Wren. “I fucking should have been with her. But… there was an attack on one of the Egorov safehouses. Cathal’s men. Some even claimed that Cathal was among them. I didn’t even think about it; I left Elena in the hands of two men who are both dead now and I went to deal with the situation—without knowing it was a fucking red herring.”
She inches closer. “Dmitri…” Once again, that’s all she says—but somehow, it pushes me through.
“It sounds naïve to say so now, but I was confident she was protected by virtue of being my wife. There’s no way Cathal would move on her and risk igniting a war between us. But he was smart about it. He made sure I saw him that day. He made sure that all his most important lieutenants were present, too. He made it hard for me to suspect that he might have orchestrated Elena’s abduction.”
“But you did suspect him?”
“Yes, of course. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. The man who took Elena was clumsy. Far too clumsy to be a part of any organized crime ring. And Cathal’s men all had alibis. But in the end, all I had to do was pick at a few threads before the whole thing started unraveling…”
My memories start to get away from me. It’s been a while since I relived the whole thing in such detail. But I remember it all, clear as day—walking into Dr. Seraphine’s office to find it turned upside down. The therapist’s body was found later. Her throat had been slit and then she was dumped into the Chicago River like garbage.
“I found Elena’s body four days later after scouring the entire city. In the same neighborhood as her last foster home. There were cigarette burns all over her body. Whiplashes across her back that had flayed her skin wide open. Red streaks around her neck indicated she had been choked, but her autopsy revealed that she didn’t die through asphyxiation. Her body was pumped full of drugs. Enough to take down a fucking bull. She’d died maybe an hour before I found her…”
I stare off into the Chicago skyline as I trail off, momentarily forgetting that I have an audience. It’s only when I hear a little sniffle that I remember that Wren’s with me. I turn to her to find her cheeks soaked in tears, her body shaking with sobs that she’s trying her best to hold in.
“Fuck, Wren… I’m sorry?—”
It’s weird how easily those words flow out of me. I thought apologies would come hard.
