Page 35

“Obviously. I was with Damien in front of a huge group of people. I wasn’t going to scream at him and tell him to leave me alone.

I’ve actively avoided him for four fucking years, Alina, and now I’m going to fucking dinner with him.

” I pressed the pedal of the machine harder, completely missing my cutoff, and the thread went wild, unraveling everywhere.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath before I gave up, taking a long sip of the glass and looking down at my friend, who sat with her elbows propped against her knee.

Alina was a petite brunette with cropped hair, her striking appearance further accentuated by the intricate tattoos that covered her arms and snaked up to her neck. Despite our hectic work schedules that often kept us apart, Alina was always kind, making her a good roommate and friend.

Our apartment had a warm, lived-in feel. The beige floors provided a neutral backdrop to the space, while the couches, though showing signs of wear with a few rips, were incredibly comfortable and inviting.

She let me set up my sewing machine and a few shelves for the stuff I needed in the corner.

The furniture was plain and functional, chosen more for practicality than style, but it suited our needs perfectly.

The overall atmosphere of the apartment was one of simplicity and coziness, making it a comfortable haven amid the chaos of living with a five-year-old.

“You’re going to see him tomorrow?” she asked, and I nodded while getting off the chair and joining her criss cross applesauce on the floor.

“Yeah, I guess, but he’s bringing his friend Dirks, who we all knew.” I took another sip of wine.

“So, it’s not a date . . .?” Alina asked.

“Ugh,” I gruffed as I drank the rest of the wine. “No. Definitely not.”

“How do you feel about all of it?”

We scooted over so our backs were up against the couch, but we stayed on the floor.

“I guess...” I tried to think about how I truly felt about all of it. “I kicked him out of that hospital in a really harsh way. He had just kissed me?—”

“Yeah, but he kissed you moments after you woke up from a damn coma, as if doing that was somehow going to make everything happening to you better.” She took a sip, and I grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to face me. “Whoa. Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I practically shouted. “That is exactly what I’ve been trying to tell my mom, hell myself, for the last few years. The very fucking reason it was all too much for me was because I was bombarded all at once.”

“Understandably so, babe. You just woke up, the last memory you had was your ex beating you within an inch of your life, and you found out your legs weren’t working.

Then you have this guy who’s always been a pillar of comfort for you, and he love bombs you.

It’s an absolutely normal reaction to want to push it all away and not deal with any of it. ”

“Exactly,” I exclaimed, lifting my hands from her shoulders and inspecting the scars on my knees. “And besides, if he had stayed, he would’ve risked his entire career. I couldn’t let him do that.”

“Of course not.” She agreed, nodding sagely. “He needed to prioritize your stability.”

“But then I did the unthinkable, Alina. I pushed him away and avoided him like the plague. Somehow, I associated him with this idea that I wasn’t in control of my life.

My therapists all told me that I went to such an extreme to avoid him that I kind of put myself in a corner, and it can be, well, it can be fucking lonely. ”

Alina narrowed her eyes at me. “No, correction,” she said, pausing to grab a dirty dish and rag. “Nowadays, you pretty much avoid the entire male population.”

I followed her into the kitchen, grabbing a glass to wash. “I have zero interest in dating.”

“But sooner or later, you’ll have to dip your toes back into the dating pool. I can see the longing in your eyes...”

She was right, damn it.

“Plus,” Alina added, “I can hear the little buzz buzz coming from your room almost every night after you put Damien down.” She side-eyed me.

“Alina,” I shouted, feeling the flush go to my cheeks.

Ugh. She was right though. I did crave that physical connection.

I yearned for the intimacy of a romantic relationship.

I yearned for what Alex had offered me all those years ago—comfort.

Alina had been a great source of emotional support, but I wanted the intimacy that came along with being romantically involved with someone.

I wanted someone who could give me that pillar because the weight of it was so crushing after all the years.

Heck, I wanted someone who would help share basic things like the calendar of events with me. I didn’t want to have to panic about who was picking up Damien because he would already be there. I wanted a family.

“I don’t want to slap a label on it with him. I think that’s where we went wrong. We started as friends, but we were fooling ourselves. We were always more, but I was also married.”

“So, don’t do that this time,” Alina suggested. “You’re going to dinner with him and his friend. And if you feel like giving him your number, why not?”

I closed my eyes, grappling with my thoughts. “What if I want to kiss him?” I confessed, nerves fluttering in my stomach.

The truth was, I’d wanted to kiss Alexsey Popov from the moment I met him.

Before I knew it, Alina had stopped washing the dishes after getting sidetracked, wielding the rag in her hand to smack my butt playfully. “Anastasia Illyiana,” she exclaimed. “You want to kiss him?”

“Sort of,” I admitted sheepishly.

There was more truth to that statement than I cared to admit. Because deep down, I wanted to kiss him more than anything.

“Girl. You need to do it then.”

“But then things get messy.” I sighed, and my shoulders fell.

“The moment I saw him, all the memories of the way he cared for me just took over. I think because I haven’t kissed anyone since the day in the hospital, I need to do it and get it over with.

It was probably because I was still under anesthesia that I somehow romanticized how amazing it felt. ”

Alina looked at me over her shoulder. “Really? You think so?” Her tone and raised eyebrow told me she doubted it.

“Yeah, but maybe I don’t need to go...”

“Well, in any case, you can always bail if tomorrow sucks.” She reassured me, her voice brimming with mischief. “Back to avoiding him like the plague, right?”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Alina asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

I pulled out my phone to double-check that it was, in fact, Tuesday and I hadn’t messed up the days. I also looked to confirm no one had texted me.

“Maybe it’s a package. I’ll go check it.” Sometimes Alina got great deals through the big-box retailer she worked for, and she had them delivered to the house.

“Sounds good. I’ll finish washing the dishes.”

She nodded and walked down the small hallway to the door. It clicked open, and inaudible voices drifted toward me as I washed the glasses.

“Hey, Stassi?” Alina shouted over the running water.

I turned it off and took off the gloves. “Yeah?”

“Think you’re going to want to come and see this...”

I walked down the hallway, and she had the door propped open. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Look.” She opened it fully, revealing three massive boxes, each the size of a person, filled with different types of fabric.

“I didn’t order anything,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, slightly annoyed. I worried my card might have been compromised, and now I had to deal with this before going to work.

Alina giggled. “No, silly. Look at the card.”

She plucked the card off the top box and handed it to me. “Just friends... Kiss him, girl,” she said as she walked down the hallway. “Good luck finding a place for all that.”

My mouth hung open as I watched her walk away, then my eyes settled on the paper in my hand.

I peeled open the card and noticed the writing below.

I hope you’re still sewing. Thank you for saying yes.

X Alex

My heart felt like it was going to explode into a million pieces, and I wasn’t even sure why.

First, this amount of fabric would not only cover all of Damien’s outfits for the summer and fall, but it was also brand new.

This meant I didn’t have to reuse or recycle anything, giving me the chance to practice making shirts that didn’t look pieced together.

Second, the gesture was both generous and terrifying.

I had no idea how he found my address; the only logical explanation was that he got it from the camp. But that wasn’t why I was scared.

No, I was terrified because this gesture symbolized exactly what I feared between us. Alina was right—it was overwhelming. After what Dimitri did, I often felt like I had no control over my life. Telling Alex to leave was the first and only time I gave myself control. He needed to see that.

I shook my head, lifting the yards of fabric from the boxes and stuffing them into the hall closet, careful not to damage anything.

But something lingered at the back of my mind, reminding me of all the times we’d spent together and how supportive he had been.

I wondered if I was too broken to see the difference between control and support, and if I could ever define the line between the two again.