Page 3 of Cashmere Ruin

After finishing my rounds, I drag myself back to my room. “Exhausted” doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel. But the second I lay eyes on the bundle by the window, everything melts away.

As if sensing my presence, the baby stirs. She lets out a whine, grabby hands reaching up into the air.

I cross the room and make my way to the crib. “Hush,” I whisper, taking her in my arms. “Mommy’s got you, Nugget.”

I smile to myself. It’s hard to remember sometimes that it’s not her name anymore. Hasn’t been for almost four weeks.

It’s still a good nickname, though.

She gurgles against my chest, demanding dinner.

“I swear,” I shake my head as I oblige, “sometimes, you’re just like your father.”

As Nugget latches on, I let my mind wander. I try my hardest not to think of him. Every day, from the moment the sun rises to its last blink over the trees, I dive into my work and try to forget him.

But sometimes… sometimes, I let myself remember.

“Matvey…” I breathe into the silence, too quiet for anyone to hear.

I wonder if he’d like her. If he’d look at her with the same cold gaze he did me that last time we saw each other, or if he’d let himself thaw. If he’d be warm with her as he once was with me.

I wonder if he’d smile.

It’s pointless, I scold myself.You’ve already made your choice.

I don’t regret what I did. It was the only play I had left. The only thing that would let my child grow up free from the shackles I’ve struggled against all my life.

I had to break the cycle. I had to breakfree.

Even if it meant breaking free from him.

“Seriously? You’re already sleeping again?” I let out a laugh.

In my arms, Nugget coos tiredly. She’s a real sleepyhead—a dream baby, honestly. Just as cozy as she was in my belly,though I have no idea where she gets it from. Certainly not from me.

Certainly not from her dad, either.

Just as I’m pushing away the thought of Matvey again, there’s a knock on the door. A series of knocks, in fact, delivered with extreme precision.

“Come in!”

The door opens. The heavenly smell of takeout wafts in, making my stomach growl. “Can we please change the knock? I can’t stress how unsafe this is.”

“Hey!” I protest. “What do you have againstShave and a Haircut? It’s a classic.”

“And that’s exactly why it will be anyone’s first guess. It’s not a secretknock if the junkie down the road can do it.”

“Bold of you to assume the junkiesstaydown the road,” I mutter.

“You picked this castle, princess, not me.”

“Fair.” I make grabby hands at the takeout bags. “Now, gimme. Mommy’s hungry.”

Wordlessly, Yuri hands them over.

Yuri.If anyone had told me two weeks ago that this would happen, I would’ve asked them where they kept the good stuff. Or not—what with the pregnancy and all—but still.

Instead, here we are.

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