Page 54 of Corrupted Guilt

“Stop, you’ll hurt yourself, your ribs—” I tried to pull away, but he was determined despite the pain, I would have to throw him off me, and I really didn’t want to.

“Cracked, not broken. I know the difference. Here, come, lie,” he insisted.

I climbed onto the bed rather than risk injuring him by struggling. “Only for a moment,” I warned.

Yuri acquiesced, holding my hand in a loose handcuff, as I lowered myself to face him, immediately regretting this decision. It was more intimate than sex, this lying with my body so close to his as I stared into his drowsy gray eyes, a tenderness he never allowed showed in them, washing over me.

“I was afraid for you,” I said faintly.

Yuri touched my face with a single fingertip, tracing the edge of my cheek.

“What do you remember? What was it like?” I whispered.

His fingertip followed the slope of my nose down to my upper lip. “I saw it headed for you and jammed on the gas pedal, then … the world exploded. Metal crunching, twisting, … glass flying… the horizon tumbling over and over… pain…” I took his hand and pressed it against my cheek as he talked in a detached voice.

His voice began to fade as sleep crept up on him, “My life didn’t flash before my eyes, like they say. It was you who flashed before my eyes. My last thought was wanting you, needing you.”

Before I had time to process this sweet revelation, Maxim was knocking on the door.

I ran to answer it before he knocked it down and Maxim pushed passed me with another man, who he had by the wrist. They went to my room, where Yuri was passed out and as I explained what happened the man maxim brought with him examined Yuri. He was a doctor, thankfully, though I didn’t want to ask whether he was an MD or Veterinarian, afraid of the answer.

“He said his ribs were cracked, but not broken …” I offered when the Doctor saw the spreading blackish-purple bruise on Yuri’s chest.

“Did he say anything about the lights being too bright?” The Doctor asked, not looking at me.

“No, but he kept his eyes closed most of the time.”

“I’d be surprised if he didn’t have at least a concussion …” the Doctor muttered.

“Should we wake him?” Maxim asked.

“Yes, but once I’m done examining him physically. Then I’ll give him a mental exam and see where we’re at there,” he said rather confidently, putting both maxim and me at ease. It was nice to have someone who knew what he was doing in charge.

I waited outside while he examined Yuri for another fifteen minutes then rose to my feet when he exited, “I’ll call in prescriptions to the pharmacy, and here’s a shopping list of things needed. By the time you get these, the pharmacist should be done.”

Maxim was on his phone, speaking in Russian, but held his hand out for me, with cash and walked me out the door, driving me over to the pharmacy but never getting off the phone. He absent-mindedly followed me around as I gathered the things on the list, and I was able to sneak about three different pregnancy tests in with all the supplies needed for Yuri.

I couldn’t wonder about my nausea any longer, I had to find out once and for all and then decide what to do.

24. Yuri

Whoever said laughter was the best medicine never had cracked ribs. The thought of laughter made me wince. Smiling too big seemed to hurt them.

Especially those first days. That first day waking up in Katya’s bedroom, her bed, with the shame of my half-delirious confession hanging in the air.

What possessed me to tell her that my life had flashed before my eyes and the only good parts, the only parts that mattered, were with her?

Did dying scare me so much? No, it was being without her. Her not knowing how I felt.

This room still bothered me. The sliding glass doors opening onto the deck and the view of the lake was beautiful but an unacceptable security risk. That and the fact the room was also accessible by a common bathroom made this the worst safe room I’ve ever seen. Maxim was slipping— I was slipping to settle for a room like this that was becoming her room now since her door was splintered—by me.

This was a good place to die, plenty of light, a nice view, and comfortable— damn her bed was comfortable. There must be two or three feather comforters below me and a couple more on top, if I needed them. And pillows of all sizes. Sherpa-soft, throw blankets everywhere.

She was taking risks for my safety. Now caring for me, shopping, running errands. I wished she would play it safe andlet me take all the risks. Didn't she know what it would do to me if anything happened to her?

Of course not.

How could she know that when I never told her? I never told her and never would, because that would risk her safety. I would trade my life for her, no question. I would protect her even if it killed me.

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