Page 42 of Sinful Bride

“I know. We all know.” Mel rubs my back. “You’re already so much better than she ever was.”

“She didn’t care about us. She just… just… threw shit together in a bottle and didn’t care what happened to us.” I lean into my sister’s embrace as the sobbing intensifies.

At the same time, it feels like some sort of pressure valve is releasing. Like I’ve been holding on to this pain, this unvocalized resentment towards Ophelia, and only just now realized it.

“You care,” my sister whispers to me. “You care about Taty. You love her.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you need to get over yourself.”

I hiccup between sobs and blink at her. “What? What do you mean?”

“When I said you need to stop acting like Mom, I meant it. She bottle-fed us because that’s what she wanted, not because it’s what we needed. She told us that all the time. We already ‘ruined her body’, so she didn’t want us to ruin her life, too. I know you want to be better for Taty. Better than our mother ever was.” Mel sighs and moves me back so I’m looking at her. “But you’re going at it backwards. It’s not about breast milk over powder—it’s about setting aside your own pride to give her the best you can. Even if that absolute best is formula.”

“I gave my babies formula.” Asya chuckles when we both look to her with shock on our faces. “What? I’m sorry, but I did. I breastfed as long as I could, but those teeth…” She shudders. “And Pasha wasn’t exactly a gentle babe. Feeding him was like going to war sometimes. I’d rather have him gnaw on a bottle’s nipple than mine.”

I snort, messy and snotty and ultra-embarrassing. But Melanie only laughs and wipes my face with her sleeve. Asya leans over to kiss my cheek, then leaves the room with Taty in tow.

Internally, I’m screaming for her to come back. Don’t take my baby out of my sight. But externally, I know I have to really start handling my shit and getting used to the fact that I can’t helicopter my child every second of her life.

When we’re alone, Mel brushes my hair with her fingers. “So… tell me all about you and Pasha.”

I blush. “We’re, ah… we’re getting married.” I wince, ready for her explosion. “In, like, three weeks.”

“Sounds like we need to go dress shopping. Have you picked your wedding colors?”

“I just said I’m marrying this guy in less than a month. What do you think?”

“I think it’s fantastic. I think it’s amazing. I think—” She frowns when she sees my lack of enthusiasm. “Pause. Why aren’t you giddy? You should be over the moon.”

“I would be—if he actually wanted to marry me. This is just an obligation.”

Melanie stares at me like I’ve just sprouted a tail on my forehead. “I beg your pardon? Since when is he not crazy in love with you?”

“Since I lied to him? Since he basically moved himself into his office?”

“Oh, wow.” She rolls her eyes with a shake of her head. “So you had a disagreement. Big freaking whoop. And then he came back, and it looks like he made things right, or is at least trying to. You know, like a normal couple.”

I’ve never actually stopped to think about it. Not like that. His sudden absence was so jarring, and my guilt over hiding who I was so heavy. I’ve been so sure our relationship was over.

My fingers drift to my lips self-consciously. He did kiss me. Thoroughly. He’s been kissing me, technically, but I’d just embraced that as “being nice” and trying to help me not spiral as much.

“I thought we broke up.” My whisper is barely audible as I try to recalculate everything that’s happened since the hospital.

Mel arches a brow and glances around the room. “Pretty sweet setup for an ex-girlfriend. Whom he’s marrying. Mathematics aside, he could have easily put you in the apartment next door. He doesn’t need you around all the time.”

She’s right. He doesn’t. That thought is almost too heartbreaking?—

“Hey. Hey. Hold your horses. I said he doesn’t need you. He very clearly wants you. On a massive level.”

“Right.”

“Okay. I’m going to pretend like my sister isn’t blind to her own surroundings and just, for the sake of… well, everything, get this all out. Does Pasha have a job?”

I scoff. “Um, yeah. He’s the CEO of a major corporation with tech and military contracts and all that. He’s kind of a big deal.”

“Good to know my blackmail demands just got higher.” She winks at me. “So I’m assuming, with this big hot shot career, he’s got a corporate office? Travels a ton? Meetings with heads of state and all that?”

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