Page 82 of Ruthless Serenade

You’re fucked, Korolev.

Spectacularly fucked.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Mindy

The taxi ride home is a hazy blur.

My head is a whirling mess of pain, confusion, and disbelief. I feel like someone has gutted me with a dull knife. How did everything go so wrong in the blink of an eye? He strolled back into my life just to discard of me again?

A surge of anger rises inside me. Doesn’t he understand that I kept quiet because I thought he was dead? And to protect Sharon from his dangerous world?

Of course, he doesn’t understand it. Reasoning with Maron is like trying to reason with a brick wall. The injustice of it all makes me want to scream. How dare he pass judgment on me when he disappeared without a trace that night, letting me think he was killed? What was I supposed to do anyway? Shout our daughter’s existence into the void and hope it reaches him?

"We’re here, ma’am." The cab driver’s voice cuts through my spiral of anguish.

I blink, realizing my cheeks are wet with tears I don’t remember shedding. "Sorry," I mumble, my voice husky. "How much do I owe you?"

"It’s taken care of," he replies.

Oh yeah, I forgot. Even now, Maron is playing gentleman and simultaneously tearing my heart open. Typical.

I stumble out of the taxi and make my way into the building. The elevator dings as it comes to a halt on my floor, and I step outside. As I walk down the hallway to my apartment, it strikes me how everything looks exactly the same. Everything, except me.

It’s like I’ve become a completely different person in just a few days. Sharon getting sick out of nowhere. The frantic rush to the hospital. Maron strolling back into my life after seven long years. The wild, intense sex that felt just as electrifying, just as explosive as it did back then. And then, telling him that Sharon is his daughter - only to hear him respond, “Get out of here.”

I scoff at the thought, swallowing back my tears. I’m worn out from being on this emotional rollercoaster. Right now, I don’t want to think. I just want to lose myself in something ordinary. Something mundane.

I decide to whip up some tea before collapsing onto the couch. A wave of loneliness washes over me, magnified by the overwhelming silence without my daughter’s presence. No matter. As soon as I’m finished with my tea, I’ll go straight to the hospital and stay by her side until she is discharged.

Speaking of which, I should call Tania. Just a day before Sharon started feeling unwell, I lined up a job interview for Thursday. By then, Sharon will be home and I need to arrange for Tania to look after her while I’m there.

I pull out my phone and dial Tania’s number. It rings once… twice… before her warm voice greets me.

"Hey, Mins. What’s up?"

"Hey Tania, can you come over on Thursday to watch Sharon? She’ll be discharged on Wednesday."

There’s a weighted pause. It’s the kind that sets my nerves jangling apprehensively.

"Mindy…" she begins carefully, "I was going to call you anyway, but you beat me to it… I’m quitting. I got a scholarship to a university down in Texas and I’m leaving in two weeks." Her voice softens, wavering ever so slightly with remorse. "But I’ll come by before then to say goodbye to Sharon. And to you, too. You know how much I love you both, right?"

Shit.

By the time she finishes speaking, fresh tears prick at my eyes. I’ll miss Tania, of course, I will. But what about Sharon? Where am I supposed to find another nanny as caring and patient as Tania? And with my little girl’s selective mutism, how will she manage with someone new?

"Mindy?" Tania prompts. "Are you still there?"

"Oh, Tania…" My voice cracks, stuttering impotently in my bone-dry mouth. "I’m here. I just… I’m happy for you. This is what you’ve been working toward. It’s just… we’re going to miss you so much."

"I’ll miss you too, Mindy," she says and I can hear the genuine emotion in her voice. "You two are like family to me. I don’t say that lightly."

After stumbling through some hasty congratulations, I end the call and slump back on the couch. To say I’m royally screwed is an understatement. I don’t even know how I’m going to tell Sharon about it. Ever since Tania came into our lives, she has been more than just someone who watches Sharon; she’s become family.

And now, she’s leaving.

Of course, I knew this was bound to happen eventually. I just wasn’t ready for it. I’m totally unprepared to handle logistics and daily life without her. The only logical solution is to find a new nanny - which is easier said than done. Sure, I could go through an agency and hire someone, but with Sharon’s selective mutism, it won’t be a walk in the park.

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