Page 43 of Emerald Vices

I throw her a sideways glance, taking care not to look her directly in the eye. “I’m… getting there.”

She smirks. “I could always tell when you were lying. Nice to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

I wrap my arms around my body despite how warm the breeze is. “It’s… complicated. But I’m fine. Really.”

“Andrey tells me that when you’re not fighting him, you’re avoiding him.”

Despite myself, my eyes snap to hers. “When did you talk to him?”

“Last week. And the week before.” Her eyes bounce around as she mentally counts back. “He’s been coming every week for quite a while now.”

Once a week?!

“He never told me that.” Neither did Aunt Annie, but I know I won’t get anywhere lecturing her.

“From what I can tell, the two of you don’t really talk all that much.”

“Because when we talk, we argue,” I snap. “And then I make questionable decisions that I wish I could take back later. It’s not healthy.”

“I would say it’s healthier than bottling up your feelings and pretending they don’t exist.”

I squint at my aunt in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re on his side.”

She closes her eyes for a moment and guilt prickles at my skin. I shouldn’t be giving her a hard time. She may look tough as nails, but she’s still in recovery.

“Honey,” she says patiently, “don’t you get it? There are no sides when it comes to your well-being. There’s just you and the people who love you.”

“Andrey doesn’t love me.”

Aunt Annie fixes me with that piercing stare of hers. “Do you really believe that?”

I should’ve known when Andrey suggested I come visit Aunt Annie that he had her in his back pocket, too. As annoying as it is, I have to admit that the man is good.

“Yes,” I double down stubbornly. “He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t love me.”

Aunt Annie pats my knee. “He doesn’t know how to love you, sweetheart. There’s a difference.”

Great. We’ve entered the let’s-justify-Andrey’s-bad-behavior portion of the evening. If I’d known we’d be having this conversation, I might have been open to a little Prozac beforehand.

“Not everyone was taught to show love, honey. Andrey thinks he can buy it the way he does everything else.”

“Except that I already told him that it’s not what I want. I don’t want his gifts or his damn money.” I sigh. “It’s his way of keeping distance between us. He’s just… scared.”

Aunt Annie nods in agreement. “So what are you going to do about it?”

I pull in a sharp breath. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes twinkle in the fading sunlight. “Are you going to let his fear win? Or are you going to fight for what you want?” I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up a wiry hand. “And don’t bother denying that you want him, because, remember: I can tell when you’re lying. You want him, sweetheart. You want him, the family you could have, the future you two could create. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I won’t deny it,” I say at last, my shoulders slumping. “But I also don’t know what else to do about it.”

Aunt Annie hums as turns her gaze on Remi. “Then maybe it’s time to do some inner reflection,” she suggests. “Work on yourself so that you’re not so confused.”

“Now, I know for sure Andrey sent me here with a purpose. I’m not depressed, you know.”

“I don’t care either way. Depression isn’t a dirty word. And your parents saw a couple’s therapist.”

“Mom and Dad had problems?”

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