I see him sitting across the table from me as I stare stupidly at an artichoke. I see him smiling up as I point out the location of the art galleries. I see his face when he learns I’m pregnant. When I get my acceptance letter to Weill Cornell.
When did I lose him?I ask myself. The answer comes faster than I expect.
You never did.
My fingers ball into a fist. I made a mistake. I know it. I know that everything he did, he did for me. He may have started a selfish bastard, but somewhere along the way, he managed to steal my heart. And deep down, buried at the core of my being, I know that I love him.
That I miss him.
And that in time, I will forgive him.
Yet in spite of all that, I still walked away from him. And now, there’s no turning back.
By morning, the bus comes to a stop in a place where the only thing I see is the Greyhound station and maybe a couple of houses in the distance. I look at the sign and read the name of the town: Gillette, Wyoming.
This place certainly fits the description that Willow gave me: a small town that nobody has heard of.
Well, maybe some people has heard of it, but I doubt Pavel will come for me here here.
But I’ll be lying if I’m not hoping he will.
Chapter Thirty-One
Months later
Liya
Birds chirp outside the window as morning light filters through the glass in long orange stripes, leaving fiery hues dancing over the navy-blue carpet. A huge ball of yarn sits on my left as I balance a crochet needle in my right hand and manipulate the yarn with my left hand. The evening light ignites the orange fibers and makes it look like I’m wielding fire.
Maybe once upon a time, that would have been true. Months ago, I was on the tail end of a war, wracking my mind with what to do with my life. And now? I never thought I’d call Gillette, Wyoming, a nice place to sit for more than a couple of weeks. Well, here I am.
My gut rumbles as the baby kicks. I lean forward, groaning and rubbing the top of my belly with each forceful breath, as pressure builds in my stomach.
“Sweetie, please,” I beg breathlessly. “Get off Mommy’s diaphragm.”
Another rumble rolls through me, and then the baby relaxes. I sit back, sighing.
Ever since the burgers the other night, she’s been extra active. I think it’s the heartburn.
A knock echoes at the door.
With a smile, I stand up, setting the crochet project aside.Speaking of heartburn, that should be my Instacart order.
One hand protects my gut as the other supports my back. I try to compose myself as I waddle into the hall and unlock the door. A smile lights up my face as I open it.
And then, the smile promptly falls away as a pair of familiar green eyes greet me.
My stomach flips. Is the baby aware of what’s happening?
I knew this day would come. I knew I would be discovered. Gillette is a normal little town, but that’s precisely why I would hide here, isn’t it? I should have left the country. I should have gone to the Amalfi Coast like I wanted.
But he would find me there, too. He’ll always find me. I can’t hide from him.
I step away from the door, my hand covering my mouth.
“Liya.” He raises his hands. “I just want to talk.”
I peek over his shoulder. Force of habit, right? I expect to see Stepan sitting in the car with a bored expression as he stares at either his phone or a robust crossword puzzle.