Page 56 of Sinful Bride

God, I am such a fucked-up mess.

“Let me tell you something about love, yeah?” Mama takes my hand and holds it between hers. “I know a thing or two about marrying someone who does not love. Who didn’t know how to love.”

“You’re talking about…”

“Kostya. My husband.” She nods once. “I remember walking down that aisle and just seeing this look on his face. I kept praying for someone to swoop in and save me before we both made a terrible mistake. But you see, the worst part? We’d already made the terrible mistake.”

I’m so confused. “I don’t—I’m sorry. I’m not following you.”

Asya gives me a sad, tired smile. “I had a chance to run. Same as you. Arlo and I, we had a moment of opportunity to run away together and never look back. But he needed to think about it. He wanted to be strategic. And we just didn’t have enough time.”

“Before you were married? To Kostya?”

Again, she nods. “The next thing I knew, I was in a gown and walking down the aisle to marry a man I barely knew. A man who definitely did not care either way if he was married to me. It was all politics to him. A means to an end.”

My stomach twists. “That’s what this is. Isn’t it? A means to an end?”

“Not in the way you think.”

She stands up and moves over to the table where all the jewelry and accessories for our bridal party is. In the reflection of the mirror, I can see her pick up the hairpiece and veil.

Even more, I can see the way her eyes mist over as she runs her fingers along the sheer organza. When she walks back to me, I expect her to pin it to my head.

But she pauses instead.

“My son worries constantly that he is going to become just like his father. I’ve always told him he didn’t need to worry about that at all, but he never listens. So I’m telling you, malyshka. And I am promising you, right now, that no matter what you decide, you will always be my daughter.”

Damn you, Asya! I am trying not to cry!

“I love him.” It’s the only thing I feel certain about. “I love him so much, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with him. I just… I don’t want him waking up tomorrow regretting what he did today.” I swallow back the growing lump so I can still talk. Even so, my voice still comes out in a raspy whisper. “I don’t think I could survive that.”

She smiles and begins to work the pearl hairpins into my low chignon. “Love is patient, malyshka. So be patient with him. Already, he’s done things his father never did. Starting with marrying the woman he truly loves. Without hesitation.”

She doesn’t say anything more. It’s simply a moment between us, mother and daughter-in-law, and I am grateful for her presence. Her advice.

Even more, I’m grateful for the window she opened to let me slip out if I really want to.

I don’t. I’m closing that window right now. I’m buckling down to do this.

There’s a knock at the door. Mama kisses the top of my head, then glides across the room to answer it.

Jameson leans in halfway and smiles. “Are you ready?”

I know what he’s asking. I can practically hear his car keys jingling in his pocket.

But I know, despite everything, I need to do this.

“Tell them to start the music. I’m ready to walk.”

22

PASHA

I’ve never really daydreamed about this moment, so I’m not in a good place to make judgment calls.

But I’m pretty sure my bride is supposed to look marginally happier than she does right now.

“Does this feel off to you?” I whisper to my brother as we both watch her figure fill the doorway at the end of the long aisle.

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