Page 19

I am incredibly tense as I walk towards the coffee shop on a busy street in town. Several people have bumped into me and not said a word. Don’t people have manners anymore? I huff loudly when someone knocks my arm and the woman responsible looks up and winces away from me.

I realize my face is a knotted scowl of anger.

She looks terrified, clutching her belongings in front of her chest as though they were a shield of some kind, she mutters a quiet, whisper, “Sorry.” Then turns to bolt away and I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my fingers into my temples.

I need to calm down before I go into the coffee shop.

Just because I’m raging inside doesn’t mean I need to let it show on the outside. Having control of your emotions gives you an advantage to control the entire situation.

Lately, being around Alyona, I don’t seem to have any control of my emotions.

I stand outside and double check to make sure I’m at the right place. Glancing through the glossy windows, coated in decals and big lettering spelling out Black Coffee Couture, I can see Avraam sitting inside. He’s sitting up dead straight. His shoulders stiff and both hands wrapped around the coffee mug while his fingers tap against the ceramic in agitation. He’s not hiding his emotions, and he looks as pissed off as I feel. Or perhaps he’s nervous that someone is finally confronting him about the shit he’s been pulling with my sister.

Well, standing out here and watching him will get me nowhere. I need to get in there and face this.

It’s the last thing I feel like doing.

Letting out a low growl I roll my shoulders back and step inside. Retro music plays on low volume. A mix between reggae and dance. A couple of hipsters standing at the coffee bar turn to look me up and down. I sneer at one of them and they all turn quickly away.

The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans fills my nostrils and I breathe in the delicious scent, letting it pull my thoughts elsewhere for just a moment.

Avraam sees me right away and leans back in his seat, resting his elbow on the backrest, forcing his tense stance to relax. He does not stand up to greet me—a power move which I ignore as I pull my chair out and sit down.

The wood creaks as my weight settles onto the chair. I lean my forearms on the table and thread my fingers through each other. Staring straight into his eyes I establish the fact that I don’t give a fuck about his power moves.

“Avraam,” I say blandly.

“Rigor,” he responds in the same tone, leaning back in his chair and eyeing me through lowered lids.

The waitress arrives with a bubble of energy and a bright smile. We both turn to look at her and she hiccups in fright.

“Um, can I get you something?” she asks me, tapping her pen nervously on the little notepad in her hand.

I order a coffee and after the waitress has left Avraam clears his throat.

“What you did to Alyona is unacceptable. She should never have been involved in this. She should have been protected and kept safe. All those years I spent trying to keep her out of this world—“ he sighs in frustration. He’s venting. He knows it’s too late to undo what’s already been done, but he needs me to know he’s angry about it.

For that part of it—I can’t blame him. I feel terrible for what I did to her. For everything I put her through when she didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve done my best to soften that blow in her mind.

At the end of the day she’s doing really well—and I think maybe she deserved to know the truth.

But that wasn’t my call to make—and it was wrong.

But he’s the reason it happened.

“I wouldn’t have taken your sister if you had let mine free. And even now, you sit here accusing me of being in the wrong when you should be pointing fingers at yourself. This is your fault, Avraam. And you need to let my sister come home.”

Avraam is about to snarl back a heated answer, anger darkening his eyes—but he’s cut short when the waitress arrives with my coffee. I hold back the growl of annoyance. I want to get this over with and I can’t if we keep getting interrupted. My neck muscles are so tense my head is starting to ache. My entire body is tense. I want to reach across the table and grab Avraam and punch the fucking lights off his arrogant face.

“One black coffee” she smiles sweetly. “Can I get you guys anything else?” she asks, hovering near us with that same little notepad in her hand, her pen hovering expectantly over the page.

“No, this is good for now. Thanks,” I answer, watching Avraam.

He nods.

“This is good. Thanks,” he answers, tapping his half-drunk coffee.

When she leaves again he sighs, pulling his mouth tight and closing his eyes briefly.

“I know Ruslana has already explained to you that she is not with me by force. She wants to be with me.”

“Yeah, she said so, but I can see straight through it.”

He huffs loudly, his fists clenching.

My heart is beating loudly in my ears. This confrontation is tense but controlled. Neither of us willing to cause a scene in public despite the obvious fact that we’re both fuming inside.

“Rigor, you need to divorce my sister and let her go. She should not be a part of this.”

I scrunch my face, my teeth grinding together.

The thought of letting Alyona go bites into my body like a snake striking at my heart. A weird pain shoots through my ribs.

I reach up and touch my chest, realizing for the first time just how much I don’t want her to leave my life.

Swallowing hard, I turn my face away from Avraam to hide the flood of emotions in my eyes.

Alyona has changed my life and brought such light into my world. I can’t let her go.

“Until you divorce Ruslana, I refuse to divorce Alyona,” I say, trying to convince myself that this is still about Ruslana. But in truth I have to admit that I don’t believe it. My heart spikes at the thought of losing Aly.

It aches and burns, and I have to force myself to focus.

Avraam and I exchange a few more heated words before he stands up, angry, with nothing between us resolved. This meeting was pointless.

He slams money down on the table to cover the coffee—and storms out muttering something about how I’ve lost my mind.

I stare after him for a long time, not thinking any one thing in particular. My head is a mess. Maybe I have lost my mind.

That didn’t go as planned, but I lost sight of all my reasons mid conversation. It threw me off completely and now I don’t even know what the hell is going on in my thoughts.

When the waitress comes past me again and sees the money on the table, she knots her brows and asks if I would like another coffee.

“No, thanks, I’m done,” I sigh. “That’s for you.” I gesture towards the money.

“I’ll organize your change,” she says with a kind, gentle voice.

“No, there is no need. Have a lovely day,” I say, standing up to leave.

“Sir, this is way too much for two coffees,” she answers in shock.

“No, it’s the right amount. Keep sharing that smile of yours with your customers.” I nod, not smiling myself.

Her cheeks flush pink and she fidgets with the note in her hand.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

When I’m out on the street again, walking back towards my car, people bumping into me and not apologizing—I don’t feel like I’m in my own body. It’s as though something else is driving me and I’m just along for the ride.

What am I supposed to do about everything?

What is going on in my head regarding Alyona?

How am I supposed to help Ruslana if I no longer want to exchange Alyona?

It’s not even my place to force Alyona to stay with me so what the fuck am I thinking? It’s irrelevant. It was only an act—to keep her hostage—I would never do what Avraam did and make her stay with me forever. I couldn’t do that to her. I only needed Avraam to believe I would in order to release Ruslana. But honestly Ruslana is making thing more difficult than it needs to be. She isn’t working with me at all.

The city is busy, the streets packed with afternoon traffic as I head back towards the mansion.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I get away from most of the hustle and onto the open roads around the outskirts of the city.

It’s quieter. More space to think.

But I don’t know what to think about.

Ruslana?

Alyona?

“Fuck,” I mutter, annoyed with myself.

I park the car in front of the mansion, staring towards the front door. For some reason I am nervous to go inside. Aly is in there, she will greet me with that beautiful smile of hers and I will have to play it cool.

The night after the party—when we got home, and I tried to help her forget her stress—that night still haunts me in a way. It haunts my dreams at night and reverberates through my body in constant flash backs.

The remnants of her perfection still lingers on my skin.

I don’t like how perfect we are together—how she makes all my worries disappear and how I can save her from hers.

I don’t like how fucking incredible our bodies feel against each other.

I don’t like it because it’s not something that can ever be more than what it is. I can’t keep her.

I can’t have her.

And I need to find a way to stop my heart from being so pathetic and weak around her.

I shove the car door open and climb out, marching towards the house with a dark storm cloud festering in my mind.

I walk through the foyer and past the kitchen.

Aly is standing in the kitchen. She’s wearing the most beautiful little blue summer dress that floats around her ass teasing me with a glimpse of things I should not be wanting.

“Hello,” she says cheerfully. I turn to look at her and my heart sinks. She looks gorgeous.

“Hi,” I mutter.

She narrows her eyes at me, the look of concern on her face tugs at my heart. She can tell straight away that something is wrong.

“What happened?” she asks, worry tracing the edge of her question.

“Nothing. I just had a long day.”

She raises her brows and then shakes her head with a soft smile.

“That is not your ‘I had a long day’ face, Rigor. That’s your ‘something happened and I’m overthinking it’ face,” she chirps and I stare at her in wonder. Does she really see straight through me like that?

I sigh loudly. “I met with Avraam,” I confess, waiting for her to be angry with me.

“And it obviously didn’t go well,” she says calmly, walking around the kitchen counter to stand next to me.

“It didn’t.”

“Rigor, you know you can talk to me about stuff. I don’t know if I can help, but maybe just talking about it will clear your thoughts and help you figure out what you want to do.”

Instinctively, I reach out and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her towards me. She presses herself against my chest and stares up at me with her beautiful doe eyes. I want to talk to her. She makes me want to share my heart. But how can I talk to her—about her? About the confusion she has ignited inside me. About how I don’t want to let her go—how I want to keep her in my life forever. How can I say all of that?

“Or—“ She smiles. “You don’t have to talk at all, and we can just make pizza, I think we have all the ingredients,” she giggles.

“To be honest—pizza sounds amazing. I definitely think that’s a good way to spend the afternoon.”

She doesn’t pull away from me straight away. She stays wrapped in my arms, turning her cheek to the side to rest it against my chest, and she hugs me tightly for a long while. Just a hug. All she is doing is holding me and in my body—the entire world is falling apart because of this beautiful, gentle, intimate and caring gesture.

After everything I’ve put her through, she is still standing here trying to comfort me. She isn’t even pushing me for information about the meeting I had with her own brother. She is just being here for me.

I close my eyes and rest my face against her hair, breathing in the beautiful scent of her. Vanilla and dark chocolate. I will never forget it. But one day I will have to let it go—all of this. I will have to let her walk away from me. Because I’m not a monster and I can’t force someone to be with me.

But then again—compared to her innocence and the world she knows—not my world—I am a monster. I have done terrible things to achieve what I want.

I am a monster.

And she deserves so much more than anything I can give her.