Page 121 of Emerald Malice

Under the pretense of helping Aunt Annie with the dishes, I slip into the kitchen.

She’s standing at the sink, letting the water run while she gazes through the window into the backyard. Andrey joined Remi and the boys back there a few minutes ago, and I know she’s watching him.

I also know that she knows that I know she’s watching him.

When I can’t take it anymore, I finally blurt, “Well? What do you think?”

“He’s charming, smart, polite.” Her eyes flit to me. “Bit ugly, though. Couldn’t you have found a better-looking man, Nat?”

I burst out laughing. No one in their right mind could ever accuse Andrey of being ugly.

When the room falls quiet again, I watch her rinse our lemonade glasses, and wait.

“Honestly,” Aunt Annie says after a few minutes, “he reminds me a little of you.”

I flick a towel at her butt. “Don’t be rude.”

She’s not laughing, though. “Right after we lost your mom and dad, you held yourself the same way. Like you were trying to keep everyone—the whole damn world—at arm’s length.”

I peek through the window to find Andrey, only to realize he’s already looking my way. So I glance away and try to pretend like I was admiring the cherry tree, though I don’t think I’m fooling anyone.

“He seems like a man who’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders,” Aunt Annie presses on.

I’ve sensed the same thing, but I assumed it had more to do with me than him. He’s too big, too larger-than-life, to rely on the same kinds of defense mechanisms that I’ve always relied on. Run. Hide. Show no one what you’re feeling.

“He’s responsible for a lot of people,” I explain softly.

Remi is nipping at Andrey’s ankles now and he bends to scratch the pup behind the ears. It sends a little shiver of affection through me.

When I turn, my aunt is studying me carefully. She’s always had the ability to see straight to the heart of me. One look from her, and I’m laid bare.

“Can I ask you something?”

I wince, even as I nod. “Shoot.”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

I want to lie. It’s poised on the tip of my tongue. But there’s no point in it. Not only because Aunt Annie would see right through it, but also because she sacrificed her life to raise me after my parents died. I don’t want to repay her with dishonesty.

“Lately, I’ve been feeling like… yes? Maybe. I think.”

She nods solemnly. “I don’t blame you. He’s the kind of man who would be easy to fall for.”

“I can’t have him, though,” I blurt. “I shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Aunt Annie lifts her eyebrows with interest. “Why not?”

“I…” It’s harder than I imagined to say it. “I don’t think he feels the same way about me.”

It’s her turn to direct her gaze out the window, down to where Andrey leans against the trunk of a tree I’ve climbed I-don’t-even-know how many times. He’s cool and resolute in its shadow like he belongs there. Like he’s always belonged there.

She watches him for a long time before she speaks again. “Have you given him the chance to know the real you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, have you been protecting your secrets? Hiding your past?”

“No more than he does,” I say defensively.

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