Page 60 of Shining Through

She wanted to tell him he was wrong. But more than once, she’d thought exactly that. “When I met you, every alarm was going off, but I ignored them. I saw that you were more than what everyone said.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored those alarms.” His mouth twisted. “I’m destined to hurt you, Tabitha. It’s what I do. And I’m not worth the heartache.”

His words twisted like a knife in her gut. “Don’t say that. I love you!”

He flinched, as if she’d struck him. “For now. But we both know love doesn’t last. Tears and moving vans for you. For me, a mother who left me behind as a way to punish my father for his cheating.”

She stared. “He told you that?”

“I overheard our cook and maid talk about it. But it made sense. So from then on, I did everything I could to punish Nikolai.”

He went to the bar and poured another drink, then returned, bottle in hand. He drained the glass in one gulp, then gestured with the empty tumbler at the spider web tattooed on his stomach. “I never told you what this one meant. It’s a prison tattoo. My prison isn’t a real one with bars, but one I built for myself. Just as hard to escape.”

She put her hand on his arm, desperate to bring him back from this black pit. “But you don’t have to stay there! You helped me find the courage to embrace who I am, to be someone new. Your love changed my life! Let my love help you change yours.”

His gaze held hers, and for a moment, it seemed she’d reached him. But then anger and bitterness toward the family that had thrown him away, descended like a cloud, shutting her out. He pulled his arm back. “You make too much out of it. We had fun, and that was all. Best to end things before you regret it.”

“That’s not what I want!”

“But it’s what I want.”

Tabitha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The words sliced like a knife, shredding her heart to ribbons. Her eyes flooded with tears at his cruel words and cold smile. She’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her. She’d fallen for his lies. How could she have been so stupid?

But hadn’t she wondered the same thing about Fiona countless times? Who was Tabitha to think she was any more deserving of happiness?

Numb, she rose from the sofa and returned to the bedroom. She dressed quickly, desperate to leave before her self-control shattered. Her mind raced, frantic to find the right words—any words—that might change his heart. But none came.

The whole time they’d been together, she’d been looking for the reason it could never work between them. Now she knew. She’d never trusted him. He’d never loved her.

Or had he? Was she so foolish and naïve to have misread him?

She crossed the living room, and he was still in the same position she’d left him. The only thing different was that the whiskey bottle was empty, and his glass was full.

She paused on her way to the door, standing just behind his shoulder. She wanted to touch him, but kept her hands close to her body. “I love you, Daniil, even if you don’t believe it. And somewhere in there, you love me. You say that you’re a liar and a cheat, and that you’re just like your father. Maybe in some ways, you are. But that isn’t who I see, and it’s not the man I gave my heart to.”

“What if you were wrong?”

“I suppose it’s possible.” She laughed sadly. “What do I know about relationships? But I know that in Vancouver, I taught a loving, kind and decent man to ice dance. I made love to him in Paris. That man saw something in me no one else did, and I’ll never forget him.”

Daniil looked up. The flicker of emotion in his eyes sparked precious hope that she’d reached him. And then it disappeared. If it had ever been there at all. Her throat tightened. “I didn’t want it to end like this, and if I hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want it to end this way, either. I’m sorry too. Good bye, Tabitha.”

Tears flooded her vision. She grabbed her coat and walked out the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

He heard gears rumble and squeal, as the elevator descended, taking Tabitha away.

He rose and went to the darkened bedroom window, peering down at Chapaeva Street. She hadn’t come outside yet.

He could still go to her and take back the awful things he’d said. He could tell her he loved her, and that he was a fool to let her go—even if she was better off without him. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Just as he pushed away from the window and set down his glass, a yellow taxi pulled up. Tabitha climbed in. The taxi drove away, toward her downtown hotel, its headlights cutting yellow beams through the falling snow.

Daniil returned to the sofa. In the oppressive silence, there was nothing to do but drink.

Numb, he stared at the silent black screen that hung above the bar. He didn’t want to watch anything. If someone was watching him? Hell, let them.

The fucking drug test had been humiliating enough. For it to happen in front of her was worse than anything he could have imagined. If Bogdanov or even Nikolai had wanted to wound him without leaving visible marks, they’d succeeded.

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