Page 40 of Imperfect Desires

I exhale slowly, my gaze drifting toward the window. Outside, the street is quiet beneath the gray November sky. The world feels muted and stagnant, like I’m standing still while everything else keeps moving.

Yelena holds up another onesie, this one embroidered with little white sheep. “Should I get this one?”

“It’s cute.”

“You already said that.”

I press my lips together, realizing I’ve barely registered what she’s showing me.

Yelena tilts her head, studying me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” I repeat.

Yelena narrows her eyes, but thankfully, she lets it go, and by the time we leave the boutique, we’re carrying three bags stuffed with baby things. We head back to her house; the bags rustling softly between us as we walk.

She chatters endlessly about the baby, her husband, and the nursery plans, but my responses are mechanical and short.

I hate feeling like this. I hate that Lev still has this much control over me, and I hate that I know nothing will ever change. I came to Philly to get him out of my mind, but my heart refuses to let go.

We’re finally home and putting things away. Yelena kneels beside an open box, pulling out stacks of onesies and neatly folding them into the dresser. The room is soft and warm, pale sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I sit on the floor by the window, my knees pulled up to my chest. My hands clench and unclench, restless energy making my skin crawl.

Yelena glances at me over her shoulder. “Are you going to help, or just sit there looking miserable?”

I manage a thin smile and pick up a tiny set of shoes. Yelena’s gaze sharpens, and she sets down the onesie and sits back on her heels.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

Yelena’s eyes narrow. “Alina.”

I glance away. “It’s nothing.”

Yelena scoffs. “You’ve been moody all day. Don’t lie to me.”

I press my forehead against my knees and sigh. My throat feels tight.

“I’m not lying,” I say softly.

Yelena stands and crosses the room. She kneels down in front of me, her eyes filled with understanding, and rests a hand on my arm, a silent reassurance that she's here for me.

“You can tell me,” she says quietly.

My heart constricts, and my eyes begin to burn. I try to hold back my tears, but my control slips. My voice breaks.

“I’m still in love with him.”

Yelena’s brows pull together. “Lev?”

I nod, tears sliding down my cheeks. My chest shudders painfully as the weight of the truth presses down on me.

“I never stopped,” I whisper. “Seven years, and he’s never looked at me the way I look at him. I’ve waited for him to notice me—to see me as more than Viktor’s sister—but he never does.”

Yelena’s hand tightens on my arm.

“I thought… I thought if I just stayed close, if I was patient, he’d eventually stop seeing me as a kid.” My breath catches painfully. “But he hasn’t.”

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