Page 132 of Dirty Damage

“Yes, you should have.”

“No!” she cries, her hands over her mouth as if she might be able to stuff the words back in. “That was horrible of me. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“She deserved it. And worse.” I catch her left hand and turn it in my palm, my finger circling that stone that’s caused so much fucking drama. “Do you like the ring at least?”

“If you want me to wear the ring, I will.”

“That’s not what I asked.” I hold her hand more firmly. “Do youlikeit?”

“It’s…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t even know. I haven’t even thought about it, honestly. It all took me off-guard. She showed up for lunch, dumped this ring in my lap, and told me the entire wedding has been planned.”

“Did you want to plan it?”

Her brow furrows into delicate lines of confusion. “I know none of this is real, but I guess I thought I’d get to makesomechoices.”

The defeat in her voice crumples me like a sucker punch to the gut.

She feels stifled. Trapped.

I recognize the signs.

“I’m the one who told Maman to handle the wedding planning.”

“But it’s our wedding,” she breathes, her eyes glassy. “Don’t you want to make the decisionstogether?”

I’ve spent years letting Oksana handle the social aspects of my life simply because it was easier. Because I didn’t give a fuck.

But watching Sutton struggle not to cry, I realize my hands-off approach has consequences now.

I bark out a laugh. “I’m surprised my mother is throwing a wedding at all. She loves a party, but since I’m going to be the center of attention at this one, I almost expected her to plan an elopement so no one would have to see the scarred groom.”

“What are you talking about? You’re basically the face of the company.”

“In boardrooms. At parties with her careful guest lists. In pictures she can pay to have edited.” I turn my face, flashing the scars. “Haven’t you noticed that her son is deformed?”

Next to losing her daughter in that fire, the greatest tragedy for my mother was always the shame. The scandal. The sight of her once-perfect son turned into a monster.

She’s spent years burying it.

I’ve let her.

Sutton’s face falls. “You aren’t deformed, Oleg. I think you’re…” She swallows, stepping closer. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I stare down at her, tracing every minor emotion flickering across her face so I don’t miss anything. “Beautiful? That’s a first.”

She inches over to me timidly, her fingers trembling before she reaches out and puts her hand on my scarred arm.

“I’m sorry you have them, but only because of the way you got them. I’m sorry you had to lose anyone. But now that they’re here… I can appreciate them. Because they’re part of you.”

Her hand slides up my shoulder to my face. I catch it with mine, squeezing her fingers. “Does this mean you’re done being angry with me?”

She rolls her eyes, but her mouth melts into a smile. “For now. I’m sure there will be something else later.”

She pulls her hand back and I’m tempted to protest. My skin is still tingling from where she was touching me.

“Fine, but can it wait until we get back?”

“Get back from where?”

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