Page 95 of Owned Bratva Bride

He didn’t look away as I walked toward him.

“Rough day at work?” I questioned.

Looking up at him, I tried to get a clearer read on his mood.

I couldn’t feel any of the calmness he always tried to show whenever he withdrew from me. He blinked, and I couldn’t tell if it was my mind that made up the flicker of pain I saw in his eyes for a millisecond. Still, the space between us wasn’t insignificant.

“Hm,” he muttered in response, lips not moving.

I stepped into the space between him and the window.

He stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice persuasive.

“I’ve got something to do,” he revealed, turning away.

I sighed as he walked out the door.

Last night was a similar moment. I reached for him, and he turned away. I chalked it up to him being completely exhausted and my tendency to misjudge things when I was half-asleep. I assumed he didn’t mean to make me feel unwanted, and that I just felt that way because I was used to expecting it.

Is that still the case?

The answer didn’t come when he kept to his side of the bed later that night. I was still none the wiser about what exactly was going on between us.

Or am I choosing not to see it?

As I went downstairs the next morning, I pondered.

I considered what made me think this new coldness from Eduard was any different from the former times. I wondered if I was just overthinking.

I didn’t know if I was reading too much into ordinary things because I was anticipating distance from him. The other night, he apologized, and we made up. It was too real, too intense for me not to expect an even bigger distance. Sleeping with his arms tight around me was too amazing for me to think it would go on like that. Maybe I was selfishly misjudging Eduard.

On the other hand, I could just be making excuses for him. Maybe I was guarding myself, my heart, from accepting the same type of hurt again. Maybe I was holding on tight to the hope that he wasn’t distancing himself from me again. I had seen it in other people, so I knew it was possible that I was trying to call his behavior everything else except withdrawal.

Maybe I didn’t want to be the one to be withdrawn from again.

I could tell every other person that Eduard’s attitude meant nothing to me. But I’d be lying. It felt important for me to know what was wrong with him. I didn’t want to just ignore it or act unaffected this time.

The plethora of thoughts crossing my mind was enough to trigger a headache. For now, that chapter should be closed.

“Hello, Mrs. Yezhov,” Sofia greeted, grinning, as usual.

“Please,” I uttered, joining her by the first kitchen island.

“Good morning. You’re down early today,” Agatha pointed out, turning around from the food she was stirring.

“Didn’t notice,” I answered casually.

Mila entered the kitchen with a handful of white and blue napkins.

“Good morning, Mrs. Yezhov,” she greeted, her voice low.

“Good morning, Mila.”

I made an effort to give her a smile.

“Please, drop the Mrs. Whatever,” I added.