Page 26

MIA

I’d told myself never again.

Turns out, “never again” lasted about five minutes.

After the tub, it becomes Yulian’s mission to christen every flat surface of the house with my body. Counter, ottoman, washer—you name it, we’ve done it there.

I wish I could say I regretted it, but it’s kind of hard to lie when you’re being fucked upside-down on the coffee table.

“Look at you,” Yulian groans from above me, pistoning into me without a shred of mercy. “So fucking wet for me.”

And, well. Can’t exactly deny that.

Every morning, once we’ve taken Eli to school, we drive right back to the penthouse and tear each other’s clothes off. Just like clockwork, but without the L.

“What do you want, kotyonok? ” Yulian’s rumble vibrates through me, just as the vibrator he’s holding starts vibrating into me. “Say it, or I won’t give it.”

“Fuck me,” I gasp, all restraint gone, except for the literal restraints at my wrists, pinning me to his headboard with zero chance of escape. “Please, just— mmph! ”

As he fucks my mouth with his cock and my pussy with his toy, I forget why we’re not supposed to do this. Why every thrust of Yulian’s hips fills me with shame as well as pleasure.

Because we’ve been down this road before, and it did not end well.

“Stop fucking him, then,” Kallie says with a shrug.

Her manicured hands roll the steering wheel as she cuts off a poor bastard coming from her right.

She always drives like a crazy person, but then again, this is New York.

If you don’t drive crazy enough, someone’s going to use your hood as a skateboard ramp, and that’s a fact.

“I mean, I’d totally miss your pussy podcast, but?—”

“ Kay. ”

“What? It’s true. I’ve been speaking with the you-down-there more than the you-up-here. Though it doesn’t surprise me, considering what I’ve heard of Yulian’s, ahem, gifts. ”

I bury my face in my hands. Here I am, in Kallie’s beat-up Nissan, inhaling the smell of new leather and mortification as I overshare every detail of my love life.

No, not love— sex. What Yulian and I do has nothing to do with sentiment. It’s pure physical need.

That I’m hopelessly in love with him is a whole other can of worms.

“I can’t,” I whine. “He’s a whole meal, Kal. Not a snack, not a spice—a five-course dinner.”

“Sure you’re not the one who’s cooked?”

“Maybe I am,” I sigh. “Maybe I’m hopeless.”

“Or maybe you just have to pick a lane.”

I wish it was that simple. It sure feels like it when we’re naked, hands roaming each other’s bodies, locked together like perfect puzzle pieces.

Because the truth is, Yulian is a sin. He’s indescribably hot, all abs and muscles and musky scent, and every time he looks at me with those burning cinder eyes I feel like I could come on the spot.

And when his beard is grazing my thighs, when his tongue is lapping up my juices, it’s easy to forget what happens to sinners like me.

No—to liars.

I’m not afraid of burning in hell. What terrifies me is the thought of Yulian finding out the truth about that flash drive. It haunts me, day and night—the swinging blade of consequences.

The Baldwins are involved with Prizrak. Brad’s father was likely one of the deep pockets behind their activities in the early 2000s, when Yulian’s family was brutally murdered on Desya’s orders.

But then, after Baldwin Senior’s death, the donations kept going.

More than that—they increased. Last year alone, there was a spike that nearly doubled the amount.

If they’d stayed the same, I’d have written it off as an autopay situation, or as Brad not being aware of what goes on right under his nose.

But that’s not what this is. My instincts are screaming that there’s more to it, that the Baldwins’ involvement goes deeper than any of us ever realized.

Then there’s his lies. The way he used me as bait and let me find out the hard way. He’s come clean since then, but can I really trust him? He never apologized properly to me. Never owned up to what he did, only excused it in a million different ways.

Last time, I let my heart take the wheel, and it almost drove me and Eli off a cliff. I’m not doing that to him again. I’m not doing it to this baby.

Either Yulian doesn’t deserve me, or I don’t deserve him. It’s that simple.

Whichever one it is, we’re just not meant to be.

Sadness fills me, a slow trickle turning into a flood. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. What if we’d done it right the first time around? Why couldn’t we just do it right?

“Mommy!”

I blink. Kallie has pulled up into the school’s parking lot, and I didn’t even notice.

I slip out of the car and scoop up my kid. “Hey there, little man. How was school?”

“We drew tortoises!”

“Oh-em-gee, tortoises?” I make a big, surprised face. “You’re sure they weren’t turtles?”

“Those have ninja masks, Mommy.”

“Right, right. How silly of me.”

“Hey, where’s my hug?”

Eli’s eyes go wide. “Aunt Kallie!”

He throws himself at her knees, hugging her tight. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other—he must have missed her so much.

Kallie picks him up and twirls him around, making him giggle. “Oof! Three months away, and this is what you do to me? Grow too big for me to lift?”

“I’m still the same size.”

“Then I must’ve gone weak. Now, I gotta lift you a hundred times a day to get back my strength. Oh, is that necklace for me?”

My heart warms, seeing them like this. Kallie might not be family on paper, but she’s been a big part of Eli’s life.

Ever since he was born, she’s done the impossible to help me take care of him, shuffling shifts around to make it work.

She’s been my rock, and it’ll forever kill me that I couldn’t be hers.

One day. If there’s one thing my newfound freedom has given me, it’s the opportunity to stick by the people I love. And from now on, nothing will keep me from them ever again.

On that note, we get back in the car and head to the address Yulian gave me.

“Are we going to see Granny and Grandpa?” Eli asks. We told him a couple of days ago, to give him time to adjust to the idea of finally meeting his grandparents. “Do they live here now?”

“Just temporarily. But their new place is close to the school,” I tell him. “If you want, they can come pick you up sometimes.”

“Will they buy me ice cream?”

“I think they’ll buy you all the ice cream in the world.”

When we get there, Mom opens the door. The second she sees Eli, her whole face lights up.

“Oh my god, look at you!” She crouches to cup his face. “That’s Meemaw Mia, alright. You’ve got her eyes, her face—everything.”

“Who’s Meemaw Mia?” Eli asks, puzzled.

“My grandmother.” Mom’s eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I should have a picture somewhere in all the boxes.”

After a quick round of introductions, Kallie hits it off with my dad over their shared love of the local sportsball team. I smile, shake my head, and leave everyone in the living room.

I find Ginny in a little side-room, tapping away on her laptop. “You could at least say hi to him,” I tell her. “Feel up his joints, see that they don’t creak like old wood.”

“Ha-ha-ha. A Pinocchio reference. How clever of you.” She steals a glance from the doorway. I think I see a flash of emotion bubble up, but I can’t be sure, because a second later, she’s looking at the screen again. “I have to work. World doesn’t stop just because you want it to.”

“You work from home?”

“Where else would I work from?”

“I don’t know. An office. You were always the social butterfly between the two of us.”

“I had to grow up, Euphie.” Her voice hardens, grows barbs. “Not everyone gets the luxury of living out their dream life in the city.”

Dream life. I wish I could yell at her about Desya, and Prizrak, and all the shit Brad is still putting me through.

But she wouldn’t believe me.

“Fine,” I say. “Be mad at me if you want. But you could still make an effort to get to know your nephew.”

Suddenly, Ginny stands up, her chair dragging hard across the floor. “‘Effort’?” she repeats. “And just what do you know about effort ? What the hell do you know about family?”

“I didn’t mean?—”

“Here.” She slams a thick planner into my chest, filled with stray papers and color-coded tabs. “Read it. Learn something.”

I crack it open at a random page and give it a cursory glance.

What I see nearly unmakes me.

Pills scripts. Medical bills for ER visits and ambulance rides not covered by our insurance. A calendar filled with doctor’s appointments, check-ups, refill dates. Stuck in as a bookmark on today’s date, a scrawled meal plan catered to special dietary requirements.

My face falls. All this time, she’s been juggling all of this? Mom and Dad’s meals, their chores, their medical needs. And with a full-time job on top of that?

Shame crawls over me. “Ginny…” I whisper, “I had no idea?—”

“Save it.” Her voice cracks with unshed tears. “I don’t want your pity. And you certainly don’t get to lecture me about effort.”

“I—”

“You left. ” She spits out that word like it’s pure acid. “You said you’d come back, but you never did. I waited. Waited for months, for years. Every time that doorbell rang, a part of me filled with hope that it’d be you. But it never fucking was, was it?”

“I wanted to,” I protest, realizing how pathetic it sounds even as I say it. “I wanted to call, to write, to visit, but it wasn’t safe. I… I thought you’d all be better off without me.”

Ginny wipes her eyes and stares me down. “Well, we had to learn to make do, didn’t we?”

Suddenly, I remember all the dreams we used to whisper to each other. I wanted to be a doctor, Ginny a lawyer. She was waiting for her college admission letters when I had to flee in the night. I never found out if she made it into Harvard, or Yale, or Columbia.

But even if she did, what did it matter? She didn’t go. Couldn’t go.

Because I left her.

And now, here she is. Full-time caretaker, full-time employee at some soulless corporate job from her lonely desk at home. Never getting to grow up, never getting to see the world. Like a bug set in amber.

It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

I’m a bad sister. A bad daughter.

And a bad mother, too.

Suddenly, something crashes into my legs. “Stop fighting!” Eli begs.

My guilt multiplies. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, kneeling to stroke his hair. “Mommy and Auntie got carried away a little.”

He peers up at my sister. “Auntie?”

“Yes,” I answer. “This is Aunt Ginny. Mommy’s sister.”

For a while, Eli stays behind my leg, assessing the situation. Then, slowly, he steps out and walks up to her. “Hi.”

Ginny’s face does something I can’t quite place. It’s too quick—a flash and then it’s gone.

“It’s getting late,” she says. “Mom and Dad need their pills.”

Then she strides out of the room.