Page 149 of Sinful Games

Caia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, tears flooding her eyes all over again.

"It’s time to go," the doctor murmured softly, her voice thick with sympathy.

But Caia clung to Lukyan, whispering his name over and over between sobs.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she cried, her voice breaking. "I loveyou so much. Mama loves you so much, Lukyan. Do you hear me? I love you, baby. I love you so, so,somuch. Please forgive me. Please, forgive mama. I’m so sorry. Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry."

I stood there, crushed, tears streaming down my face. Every tear felt like a blade cutting deeper into me.

As the doctor moved to cover Lukyan’s body again, I stopped her. I leaned in and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his nose.

Then, close to his ear, I whispered, “I love you, Lukyan. Always. Papa’s gonna miss you forever, buddy.”

Chapter

Forty-Nine

“Love is proved the moment you let go of someone because they need you to.”

?Shannon L. Alder

Alexsei

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.

Those emerald eyes, like a forest full of secrets, masking just enough pain to keep me guessing. Unspoken words and hidden longings flickered in them as she pressed the ring into my palm, her touch lingering a little too long.

That ring felt heavier than it had any right to, like it carried every unsaid word, every chance we never took, the fire we’d buried deep. Our hands came together in that moment, a twisted canvas for all the “what ifs” we never daredto explore.

Her eyes were a world of possibilities, and that ring in my hand was a cold reminder of all the paths we’d never walk.

The silence hung between us, thick and suffocating, until she finally broke it. “I am s–”

I cut her off, not wanting to hear whatever apology she’d been rehearsing. “Nyet.If you’re leaving, don’t bother with the feeble excuses.”

We’d been home three weeks since... since everything fell apart. Two weeks since the funeral. Since we buried our baby.

Caia and I were strangers now, living worlds apart under the same roof. She locked herself in his room, refusing to come out, to eat, to even look at me. I spent hours outside her door, begging her to let me in, but nothing worked. She wouldn’t let anyone in. Not even me.

It felt like there was a wall between us, getting higher and thicker with every passing day. Every time I reached for her, she pulled away. Every word I tried to say, she shut down. She was slipping further away, and I didn’t know how to bring her back.

But now, I guess I didn’t have to. She’d made her choice.

This morning, I went out, desperate for air, terrified I’d break in front of her when she needed me to hold it together. When I got back, there she was—dressed, bag in hand, avoiding my eyes like she couldn’t stand to look at me.

She was leaving. Running from everything. Fromme.

I’d been holding on, trying to keep us together, trying to be strong for her but maybe I wasn’t enough. Maybe I failed. Because now, she was slipping right through my fingers.

She stepped back, her hand over her chest, right where her heart thudded beneath. “Is the murder of my son a feeble excuse?”

Her words hit me hard, the weight of them crushing me.The air felt thick with sadness, like we were both drowning in it.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Not by my hands.”

“It might as well have been, Alexsei.”

I flinched. She rarely called me Alexsei. It was alwayszolotse, darlingwhen she was happy, "Lexi" when she wanted to tease me, andzaychik, bunnywhen she craved my touch. Hearing my full name now—it was like she was pushing me further away.

---