Page 20

stassi

“Where are you taking the baby? You need to prepare your husband’s dinner.”

I looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully inside the baby carrier. “He left for the night.”

Again. He left for the night again, but I didn’t want to open that can of worms again.

“With the team?”

I nodded.

My mother knew. She had to know because he had all but moved out, only coming back after practice to change. I wondered if the other woman knew he had a family. Hell, I wondered if there was only one woman or if there were multiple.

“In our culture, I grew up where the wife stays home. I know you have these dreams. That is why I think staying with him is best, but you must cater to his needs and help at the house before you go off skating.” She tsked as she cleaned the kitchen for the hundredth time.

I looked down at the sleeping baby with peach fuzz growing on his head and closed my eyes, not daring to start this argument. “I am a good wife. The fucking best, which is why I need him to let me skate again. I’ve been cleared by the doctor, Damien’s out of the NICU. There’s nothing stopping me.”

My mother, with her gray hair piled atop her head in a messy bun and held in by chopsticks, stopped and stared at me.

She shoved her hands in the front pocket of the apron she was wearing.

I loved my mom and was so grateful she came out to help me, even arriving as early as she could from Russia, but it had been a month.

Damien was home now, and I needed my space.

“You should be home, taking care of your husband and child. I picked him because I knew he’d provide for you.”

Anger bubbled inside my chest. I didn’t want to yell and wake the sleeping baby, but I pointed to my nipples that were leaking and then pointed around the room. “Do you see me? Lactating on a whim, sitting at home, bouncing his child while he’s out doing God knows what at all hours of the day?”

He didn’t want me around; he didn’t want me to hire a babysitter or ask my mom so I could go skating. He wanted to control every aspect of my life and crush my spirit.

“He’s working to provide you with this luxurious life,” my mom said. “He said you’ll be traveling with him now,” she added, almost like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. “The doctor gave the okay at your appointment, and Dimitri said you’ll be going with him to the next away game.”

I clenched my jaw. I knew why Dimitri suddenly wanted me there—it wasn’t about family or us spending time together.

It was all for show, a way to parade me around and say, “Look, here’s my wife,” so when he went out and fucked other women, he could come home and play the role of the perfect husband.

No one would question him if they thought they saw him at the bar because they’d already seen him with me.

She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting to the floor before meeting mine.

“I know this isn’t the life you imagined for yourself,” she said.

“But you’re in it now, Anastasia. You’ve got a child, and these things.

.. these arranged marriages, they can work out.

They just take time, patience. It’s not always love at first sight. ”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as the unspoken truth hung heavy between us.

I couldn’t be sure, but there was something in the way she looked at me—the flicker of sympathy in her eyes, the slight downturn of her mouth—that made me wonder if she knew more than she was letting on.

Maybe she sensed the lies, the infidelity, the way Dimitri used me to maintain his facade.

It wasn’t the life I’d wanted, but it was the one I was trapped in now. And by the look in her eyes, I couldn’t tell if she was trying to reassure me or herself.

I closed my eyes and said, “Yes, you’re right.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you,” she said, looking down at the rag as she began to clean the counter, “but he asked for my permission to take you to the next game without Damien. He wants to take you on an overnight date. So, I’m extending my trip.”

I froze in the middle of the stark living room. I had to pack away all of Damien’s toys, not that he had many since he was so young, but Dimitri was very triggered by the clutter, so I tried to keep it away for the few hours he was here.

“Wait, he what?” I asked my mother.

She stopped cleaning and walked to the other side of the marble kitchen island, resting her hands on the back of the island. I looked her up and down and noticed her age in her hands, the bags beneath her eyes, the determination she had.

She wasn’t a bad mom. She cared for me growing up, but she also saw the world differently, and I wondered if it was just how she was raised. I loved my mother deeply, but I hated that I bent to her every word because I saw it as the only truth there could be.

“He told me he wants to take you alone to one of his away games before I go back, to spend quality time with just his wife.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Why would he do that? He detested me. “No.”

My mother threw her hands to her hips. “You will not say no to your husband. He is going to make good on his promise.”

Tears threatened to fall. “No. You don’t understand. He wants something. He fucking hates me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My mother huffed, and the baby started to fuss.

My heart raced, and the apartment felt all too suffocating. I went to the hallway where I kept the baby bag and pulled it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” my mother shouted. “The baby should be at home.”

“No,” I repeated and opened the door.

I beelined for the elevator and pressed the button a hundred times, hoping it would arrive before my short Russian mother came down the hallway with a spatula in her hand, threatening me to get home.

Thankfully, it dinged, and I rushed in, pressing his floor instinctively before leaning my back against the cool metal wall.

Damien had settled back into sleep in his carrier, oblivious to the turmoil swirling around us.

I hadn’t seen Alex since the day he walked out of the hospital.

I didn’t have his phone number either, not wanting Dimitri to find out we’d spent time together since he had control over my phone.

It wasn’t that he was avoiding me, but between the NICU visits, recovering myself, and entertaining my mother’s demands, I couldn’t be around as much as I’d wanted to.

The elevator pinged softly as I stepped into the hallway, my heart pounding with each step I took toward his door.

Tears streamed down my face as I thought of the horrible things Dimitri might have planned, trying to separate me from Damien during one of their games.

It had been a long time since it was the two of us, and now that the baby was out, I feared what he wanted from me.

The despair I had often felt and the thoughts of wanting to die now seemed even more unbearable because I had to stay strong for my son.

It all clashed with the intense loss I felt from no longer being able to skate.

Partner skating was taken away from me, and I hadn’t set foot on the ice since the day I told Alex I was pregnant.

As I looked around, fear gripped me that my husband might somehow be lurking in the corner.

It’s not that Dimitri suspected anything; he was too distant from our marriage to care.

But I didn’t want to give him any more ammunition than he already had to punish me, to hurt me.

The fear of what he could do if he found out about Alex was always at the back of my mind.

I couldn’t risk it, for my sake and for Damien’s.

When I reached his door, my hand trembled as I stood there, wondering if I should knock. I had no idea why I was here, but the need to see him, to feel his support, was overwhelming.

When the door opened, and I saw Alex’s concerned face, the weight of everything I had been holding in threatened to crush me.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” I whispered, tears still streaming down my face.

Alex’s eyes softened as he stepped aside to let us in, his presence a temporary Band-Aid to my bruised soul.

Inside his apartment, the familiarity of his space, the warmth and safety it represented, made me feel a tiny bit lighter.

Just as I was starting to feel better, the baby stirred in the carrier and fussed.

I started to lactate, and all of it sent me into a crushing moment where my knees gave out.

I braced the countertop as I fell down, listening to the wails of my newborn.

“Give him to me,” Alex said, dropping down and unclipping me from the carrier. “I don’t know how to hold him, but I’m going to pretend he’s like a hockey stick I’m holding out to get taped up.”

I laughed through the snot pouring from my nose. “Hold his head, like a football.” I coached him.

“Wrong sport, malyshka. I have no idea how to hold a football, but I’ll try.”

Malyshka . . . there was that name again . . .

He grabbed the baby from me, and Damien looked so small in Alex’s arms. I looked down, and I was leaking through my shirt.

“I look horrible,” I said as I glanced at Alex, who looked as devastatingly beautiful as he always does. He was wearing jeans and a button-down...

“Wait.” I let the carrier fall to the floor. “Were you going out?”

“Yeah, I was planning on it?—”

“Oh my God.” I threw my hands in defeat. “I’m so sorry. You don’t need me here, crying at your door. This is fucking absurd.”

“No. I told you I would always be there for you,” he whispered, which only made it worse.

“No,” I cried. “That’s not it. I’ve been horrible to you.

You helped me when I needed you the most, and I never even thanked you.

It’s been two months, and I haven’t even come over to say hi.

I was trying to recover, and then my mom came.

Honestly, when I got back, I had no idea what time or day it was for the first week, even though he was in the NICU for a month. ..”