Victory is so close, I can taste it. Silently, I watch Stepan and Kostya process the body for disposal. Afterward, I ride in silence back to Coney Island, eager to share this news with Liya.
But as soon as I walk through the front door, victory turns to ashes in my mouth.
Liya is standing in front of the stairs, frowning, with her arms folded over her chest. Furious amber pools dare me to walk past her, to tell her of what sins I’ve committed tonight in exchange for this message of victory that she will never approve of.
For a second, things feel oddly reassuring, like she’s waiting for her husband to get home after a night of drinking with the boys. And then my eyes fall to her left hand and her naked ring finger.
Were it so easy.
I’m aware of my appearance: loose tie hanging around my shoulders and droplets of blood staining the front of my white shirt. It’ll have to be discarded, seeing as Viktoria was the only one willing to scrub the fibers. Liya sure as hell won’t do it. Grief hangs over my head. Is she also thinking about Viktoria?
She’s the first to break the silence. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Where do you think? Finding where Cardona is. I’ve made a breakthrough.”
She tilts her chin and defiantly guards the stairs. Does she think that will stop me from going to the bedroom? It’s not the only room with an en suite bathroom, but it’s the only one where I want to shower.
I brush her aside and ascend the stairs. She stomps after me but is otherwise quiet as I march into the bedroom. I toss my shirt on the ground, knowing it irritates her to have filthy clothes littering the ground.
But instead of scooping them up, she glares at me.
Whatever.I turn on the shower.I don’t have time for games anymore.
The hot water should relieve me, but it reminds me of the heat I’m missing with Liya.
It’s like this every night. She allows me to shower in the bathroom of the main bedroom, then kicks me out as soon as I’m done. She doesn’t want me in the same bed anymore. She doesn’t even want me on the same floor.
My heart lurches. It’s just the silent treatment these days. I’m giving it right back to her.
I close my eyes and tilt my face into the hot spray.There’s nothing left to salvage. There’s nothing left to say to each other.
The shower ends quickly. I want to get to a clean mattress and get some rest. The faster I fall asleep, the less time I have to spend wondering if I’ll find the house free of her presence in the morning.
I wrap myself in a towel, not bothering to pat my skin dry. Liya sits on the bed when I drift into the room. I quietly gather some clothes and head toward the door.
“Did you mean it?” she asks suddenly.
I turn around. “About finding Cardona? Yeah, I do.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “The other thing. What you said to me the other day—that you’ll take my baby away from me as soon as they’re born? No matter how far I run?”
I clutch the clothes in my hands. Is that really what she wants to know? Not how the war is going or how I’m on the verge of taking down Cardona? To give her—to give us—the peace of mind that we’ve been looking for all this time?
“I mean everything I’ve said to you, Liya. Always.”
She doesn’t shy away from those words. She doesn’t snap back. She doesn’t even threaten me. She just stares at me with a blank expression.
No tears. No fear.
She’s not fighting for us anymore. She’s not even fighting me just to fight me. Our arguments were plentiful in the past, sure, but they were passionate. A small indicator that she still cared. But now? Nothing. Why would she fight if she didn’t give a damn?
She takes a sharp breath. “I want to hear you say you love me.”
I blink rapidly. She can’t be serious. Doesn’t she know? Haven’t I spent months expressing my love in every way possible? I’ve given her everything.I’m building a fucking crib for our baby in the attic!
My arms weaken as I approach the bed. The drops of water dotting my upper back have cooled, leaving my skin with goose bumps as I approach her.
“I love you, Liya. I’ve always loved you.”