Page 200 of Cashmere Cruelty

APRIL

Things don’t change much over the next few days.

I wake up late. I keep the blinds drawn. When I do bother getting up, I just wander around the penthouse like a ghost. Restless. Numb.

Silent.

That’s the constant of my life now: silence. So many times, I thought I’d rid myself of it for good. First, with my found family, and then with Matvey.

But it follows me everywhere.

When Matvey comes by for dinner, the silence becomes deafening. It’s astounding how quickly we’ve gone back to being strangers.

The worst kind of strangers. Strangers who once said, “I love you.”

And then there’s the baby. The due date is floating around in my mind every minute of every day.

The first night we eat together, I keep telling myself that, if he will only speak to me, then I’ll come clean. If he will only say one word to me—ask about my day, ask about anything—then I’ll tell him.

But he never does.

So the second night, I tell myself just one look will do. If he glances up from his plate, if he keeps his gaze on mine for a single, full second, then I’ll take it as a sign and spill it all.

But he never does that, either.

Then, by the third day, I’m determined to tell him anyway. He’s still the baby’s father, isn’t he? No matter how badly he scorned me—how broken he left me—he still has a right to know. Doesn’t he?

But there’s another baby coming.

It’s a small, hateful voice spewing poison at the back of my mind. I try my hardest to suppress it, but it keeps coming back stronger, louder:Soon, he’ll have another child. A better one. A legitimate one. One he actuallychoseto have. And once that happens, he’ll forget about the one he never wanted in the first place.

Just like your parents did.

By the fourth day, I’m determined to snuff out that voice for good. So I tell myself: if he answers me.

If he answers me, I’ll tell him.

“Do you love her?”

The sound of cutlery stops. Matvey’s hands still. Just like that, the silence grows louder than ever.

A part of me is hoping he’ll say,Yes.Because if he truly loves her—if all of this was the last trial on the way to his happily ever after—then I’ll be able to accept it. I’ll be able to put my restless soul at ease.

Not right away. Not for a long time, maybe.

But eventually.

Or at least I’ll be able to pretend.

I’ll be happy for them. I’ll smile and nod and say all the right words. After all, haven’t I done this all my life? Live off the crumbs of other people’s happiness? Getting out of the way so it could happen?

It wouldn’t be my home full of laughter, but it would beahome. A home for my child.

I have a half-brother that I love; maybe Nugget could have the same. They could grow to care for each other, like Matvey and Yuri did. Better yet, they could grow up together from the start.

It wouldn’t bemyhappiness, but it’d still be happiness.

And yet, another part of me is still hoping he’ll say,No. No, I don’t love her. I love you, April Flowers. It’s only ever been you.

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