What we had wasn’t even real.
“Turn your show back on,” I say, pulling my legs up on the sofa. I’m grieving inside, aching at the sudden loss of what?
He wasn’t mine.
I need a distraction, and maybe Allie’s show can make me forget Dmitri, even for a few hours.
I doze off on the couch.
The front door buzzer for the apartment rings, startling me from slumber.
“Don’t get that,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.
Allie pauses her show.
“What time is it?” I ask. How long have I been asleep?
“Almost midnight.” She knows she’s supposed to be in bed already but got away with an extra late night because I fell asleep on the couch.
The buzzer sounds again.
I groan and stand, heading toward the door. I hit the button to communicate. “What?” I’m grumpy, and he’s trying my patience.
I assume it’s Dmitri. Who else would stop by the apartment at midnight on a Monday night?
“Can we talk?” Dmitri asks. His voice is calm, far more so than I would have anticipated.
“Call my phone.”
“It goes straight to voicemail. Your phone is off.”
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t want to talk to you.” Can’t the man take a hint?
“I want to explain. Please, Sadie, give me five minutes. I’ll leave after that, and you never have to see me again.”
Allie is watching from the sofa. She’s turned the television off because it’s late and she’s been caught, but she hasn’t gone to bed.
“Five minutes.” I press the button, allowing him inside the building.
“You’re letting him in? I thought you hated him,” Allie says.
“Bedtime.” I point toward her bedroom.
Allie groans and drops the remote control on the sofa. “Fine. You’re no fun when you’re grumpy.” She fusses the entire way to her bedroom, and I expect to hear the door slam shut, but it doesn’t.
The kid is trying to eavesdrop.
Wonderful.
Privacy is a luxury that I don’t have. And if I talk with Dmitri in the hallway outside my apartment, my neighbors will overhear everything.
And I don’t want to lead him on by suggesting we talk in the bedroom.
There’s a soft rap at the door, and I unlock it, letting Dmitri inside. “What?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest. I’m tired and not in the mood to deal with his possessiveness.
He stalks toward me, his brow pinched. “I was worried about you tonight.”
“I’m fine.” I take a step back, keeping ample space between us. I’m good with distance, putting a wall up around my heart. I’ve had years of practice.