“Of course. I am not saying the man is perfect. He can be grumpy and hard to get to know, and he has a terrible temper sometimes, but there is more good than bad,” he says with a laugh.
“That’s funny. That’s exactly how I’ve heard you described before you met Gina. She said you were crazy stubborn and took a lot of convincing that you two should be together.”
He smiles at the mention of Gina. “I fell in love with her the first second I saw her. I was just stupid and fought it because I convinced myself I did not deserve her or that she was better off without me. Don’t be stupid like me, Moira. You will cheat yourself out of a lifetime of happiness. I still don’t think I deserve her, but I would be a damn fool to push her love away. If I had, I would be alone and miserable right now instead of about to go home to my beautiful wife and son.”
His words hit me hard, and all I can do is nod and whisper out a croaky “Okay.”
He seems to understand what I’m thinking, though, and it’s enough. “I’ll let myself out.” He drops a piece of paper on the counter on his way to the door. “That is code for the security system. Just rearm it if you leave, please. Let us know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Dmitri,” I say to his retreating back.
He gives a wave and disappears out the door, leaving me feeling more alone than before he’d shown up. There was a time not too long ago when I would’ve completely closed myself off after what happened with Nikolai. I would’ve just gone to ground like a damn ostrich burying her head in the sand, and I would’ve been proud at how hard and stubborn I was, but I’m not that same woman, not even from just a few weeks ago. Nikolai changed me, and he made me want things that I never allowed myself to even think about before. How do I go back from that? I’m not so sure I can, at least not without it nearly killing me in the process. I sit on the couch, seeing two versions of my future laid out before me in vivid detail. One is me slowly turning into a bitter, lonely, old woman who never dared to let love in and who cared way too much about putting up walls and pushing everyone away. The other is a future with Nikolai, and it’s filled with so much love and happiness that it makes my heart hurt with wanting it. I get lost in the idea of it, this future that I never dared hope for, that’s filled with love instead of angry shouting and raised fists, and by the time I pull myself back to reality, the sun has set, and I know in my heart what I need to do.
Reaching for my phone, I send him the text I should’ve sent him from the beginning.I’m at Dmitri’s old apartment if you want to talk.
I’ve barely sent it before I see the moving dots and a second later his reply pops up.I’m on my way.
I smile and set the phone aside, knowing I’ve done the right thing.
Chapter10
Nikolai
Dima had texted me earlier to let me know where Moira had gone to, and I’d been out the door and in my car within seconds. I’d had to force myself to drive at a reasonable enough speed to not attract every cop in the city, but all I could think about was how I’d needed to get to Moira.
I’ve been sitting in the parking lot right next to her black Jeep, watching people come and go until the club closed, and it’s taken all my strength to remain here, waiting for her text, hoping like hell she’ll invite me up. I haven’t had a second of peace since she ran out of my house yesterday morning, and I know nothing will feel right in my world again until I have my arms wrapped around her and I can feel her body pressed against mine.
The club is empty and dark by the time she texts me, but I don’t give the slightest fuck about that or about how long I’ve been waiting. I tell her I’m on my way and run to the entrance and let myself in, barely remembering to rearm the system before I’m taking the stairs two at a time and knocking on the door for the apartment that I’ve been to a million times.
When she opens the door and takes a step back so I can come in, I’m so overcome with emotion at seeing her that all I can do is stand there gaping at her like an idiot. Her face is puffy and red from crying, the pajamas she’s wearing are two sizes too big and look like they’ve been run through the wash one too many times, and her hair is pulled back into a messy pony tail, and she’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt and my breath catch in my throat. She look so small and hesitant, and I hate that I’m the one who’s done this to her.
I told myself on the way here that I was going to give her space and remain calm and not put any pressure on her, but my feet are already moving and my arms are pulling her in for a tight hug before I can stop myself. I bury my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her, and for the first time in more than twenty-four hours the tightness around my chest loosens, and I feel like I can finally breathe again.
I’m so wrapped up in the moment that it takes me a second to notice the way her body is softly shaking. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her to the couch and sit down with her on my lap, holding her tightly while she cries, feeling each tear, each shudder, and each soft, muffled whimper as a deep, visceral pain, knowing I was the cause of all of it. She keeps her face pressed close to my neck, and turns her upper body toward me, threading her hands behind me so she can grab onto my shoulders.
Cupping the back of her head, I hold her closer and kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” I tell her over and over again, and then I tell her in Russian because it’s the most honest and mostmething I can give her. Expressing myself in English is second nature after living here for so long, but at my core, I am Russian, and I want to share that part of myself with her. She may not understand what I’m saying, but she softens into me even more, and after a few more minutes, she stops crying. I keep holding her, rubbing her back softly and brushing aside a few wayward strands of her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she finally says, her words coming out raw and raspy.
“Don’t ever apologize to me for crying, Moira, and this is all my fault. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“How did you get here so quickly?”
“I’ve been sitting outside ever since Dima told me where you were. I couldn’t not be where you are, even if it wasn’t up here with you like I wanted to be.”
She lets out a shaky breath and hugs me tighter, and we sit in silence for several minutes. I’d happily hold her for hours like this, but I know we need to talk about what happened.
I gently lift her up a bit so I can see her. I cup her face, using my thumbs to brush aside the remaining tears. “I really do love your freckles,” I say, making her give a soft smile. Her green eyes, still a bit watery, are even more vivid than usual. The love I feel for her threatens to completely undo me. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been an absolute jackass, and I will do anything to fix it.”
“Why did you act so horrified? Did I really disgust you that much?”
“God, Moira,” I say, hating myself a little more with each passing second. “This whole time you thought I was disgusted by you?” I can’t help the pained groan that comes out of me. “I was never disgusted. Pissed at myself and horrified that I’d hurt you, but not for one second did I ever feel anything but love for you.”
I lean back with a sigh and pull her back against me. “I’ve done some very bad things in my past, and I’ve hurt a lot of people. I’m no stranger to blood, but knowing it was yours, knowing that I was the cause of it, I can’t explain it.” I shake my head and hold her tighter. “It threatened to completely undo me. I was never mad or upset with you, though, it was always directed at myself.”
“What bad things?” she asks, and her voice is so low I have to strain to hear her.
I hadn’t planned on telling her everything just yet, but she deserves to know who I really am and what I’m capable of before she decides if she’s willing to forgive my sorry ass.