Page 47 of The Fixer

Ophelia turned her head the opposite way, waving her injured, stiff hand in disinterest before I reached for it. Her wrist might not have beenbadlybroken, but it was still obviously painful.

“The next time you want to waste my time, Aleksander…” Hoisting himself to his feet, Darren shot Aleksander a nasty glare as he threw his barely burned cigarette to the ground to grind under his shoe. “Don’t. From now on, you come to me. If you don’t like it, kill me and see how much easier it is to use my corpse.”

“Are you heading past the train station?” Ophelia spoke up before Darren could stalk off towards his car. “Do you mind giving us a ride?”

He nodded curtly. “Of course. The least I can do after a terrible date is make sure you get homesafely.” Darren held out his hand with a slight wink.

I unfurled my arm from around Ophelia as she took it to stand.

“We’ll stop and grab you some clothes, first. I get wanting to come here pre-prepared, but just your underwear is taking that a little too far.”

“I have an extra shirt in my briefcase she can wear.” I nodded.

Once we were on the train back to Moscow, we were going to have a talk, Ophelia and I.

Her glance told me she knew this, as she grabbed my hand to squeeze tightly.

Standing up myself, I cast Aleksander a glare flooded with all the disappointment and venom I could muster.

32

Ophelia

“Every time I hear his name, I just…” A disgusting taste swarmed my mouth, and I rested my cheek on Sascha’s shoulder to close my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sascha.”

“You said it yourself, Oppie. You have no experience with him or even anyone like him. It’s okay to be frazzled by new experiences.”

I cuddled closer to him, savoring his warmth as he worked his arm around my shoulders.

“At least things went better this time. You learned some important information, and I think it’d be a good idea to foster with Linead. He seems like a level-headed guy, even if you’re not friends, having someone like him on your team can help you.”

“I’m very aware of my self-esteem issues where Aleksander Makovich is concerned.” I couldn’t hide the bitterness in my tone.

Sascha squeezed me comfortingly.

Frowning at the back of the seats in front of us, my throat tightened as every moment I wavered in the past few weeks circled against my eye sockets. “I want to stop feeling so out of control—so worthless. I want to stop feeling like nothing I do is going to matter because I’ll end up like my parents sooner rather than later.”

“You don’t need me to tell you that letting someone else determine your worth will always make you feel worthless, but you are myeverything, Ophelia. If you ever were going to kill yourself, I’d like you to tell me first, so I can be there for you.”

I felt all the blood drain from my face at Sascha’s earnest statement.

He pressed his lips to my temple tenderly. “If you feel like you have no choice but to cut your losses, I’ll be there to support you.”

“Y-you heard that…” Shame thickened my tone, but Sascha didn’t judge me. How could he, when he didn’t understand what kind of pressure I was under? At least, that was how he thought and the conclusion he would come to. His beard tickled my forehead and rustled my eyelashes, and my heart thundered hard but slow in my chest.

“I will never, ever discredit your feelings. I won’t judge your hardships. I won’t belittle you, or decide what’s best for you. When we got together, I made those promises because you’re young, and my doing any of that wasn’t going to help you grow. Your friends might’ve thought I was a creep, but you’re the one that’s got me wrapped around your finger, not the other way around, Ophelia.”

My cold face warmed at the conviction of Sascha’s voice.

He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger to make his point. “When we get back from America, and you’ve achieved what’s needed of you, we’re going to have a new house together. I’m going to quit the university. You’re going to be so sick of me.”

“… What are you going to do if you don’t teach?”

Grumbling thoughtfully, Sascha played with my hair as my question hung lightly between us.

His words settled heavily into the deepest crevices of my brain. We’d have a housetogether. He loved me for more than my money despite the fact I was swimming in the stuff.

Speaking of swimming…My present to myself for ? well, for nothing specific but being alive ? was to build a pond. Anice, expertly plotted pond that I paid almosthalfof the cost of the actual house for. And my pond would have lots of goldfish in it.Because—