Page 52 of Emerald Vices

She has a point. Clearly, she’s doing a much better job of following this conversation than I am.

“Okay,” I accept. “Okay, so maybe he is trying in his own way.” I unfurl my hands and wipe my sweaty palms against my skirt. “It was a nice gesture. A sweet, thoughtful, touching gesture. But I want more.”

God, she really knows how to wield these silences.

I sink into the couch. “And I can’t help but wonder, what if I want more than he’s willing to give me? What if I want more than he’s capable of giving me?”

“Putting yourself out there is always going to be a risk, Natalia,” Evangeline says. “The question is, do you love him enough to take it?”

I exhale sharply. It’s a damn good question. “I’m starting to understand why they pay you the big bucks, Doc.”

Evangeline smiles. “You’ve experienced a lot with Andrey in a short space of time. The two of you have been on a very intense roller coaster since you met. Before you could really get to know each other—or even understand each other—you had other, very serious things to deal with.”

Pregnancy. Abduction. PTSD… The list goes on and on.

“Maybe you need to go back to the basics,” she suggests. “You’re not sure what you want right now or how to get it. So maybe, instead of worrying about trying to make a full-blown relationship work, you need to focus on existing together without the pressures of a romantic entanglement.”

“That’s a very fancy way of saying we should try being friends.”

Evangeline chuckles. “I have to flex my expensive education somehow.”

I take a second to chew the idea over. “In your professional opinion, can friends have sex? And before you answer, you should know that the hypothetical sex would be really, really good.”

There’s a lot about Andrey I’m confused about, but that’s one point we’ve never disagreed on.

“If it was mediocre sex, then maybe. But good sex? Definitely not.”

Now, who's making jokes?

“Friendship with Andrey.” I try the idea on for size. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about with a little honesty?”

I drop my chin, looking up at her from under lowered brows. “No offense, Evangeline, but if I knew how to do that, I wouldn’t need you.”

21

NATALIA

Evangeline was like the flap of a butterfly’s wings somewhere around the world that starts a hurricane. One little suggestion, and it’s been days of swirling, spiraling thoughts that have stormed in my head for days on end now. And each and every time the clouds clear, only one way forward remains:

I have to fix things with Andrey.

“If not for myself, then for you guys,” I say to my belly.

I want to delay it. Actually, scratch that—I want to run screaming into the hills rather than dive into the thorny mess that is my emotional baggage.

But my babies deserve better.

Which is how I find myself seeking out Andrey for the first time in months. A move that’s accompanied by palpitations, severe doubt, and what I’m sure will read as an erratic spike in my blood pressure on my weekly medical report from Dr. Abdulov.

When Shura and I collide as I turn into the kitchen, he grabs my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length. “Yikes. You okay, Nat?”

“You should work on your sweet talk,” I mumble. Then I gulp. “Actually, I’m looking for Andrey.”

His eyebrows disappear in his hairline. “That explains it. He’s in his room, I think. We just finished up with a meeting.”

I walk upstairs with every intention of stopping outside of Andrey’s room, but then I pass it and have to double back. Weirdly enough, I pass it a second time. And a third.

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