Page 141 of Bride By Coronation

I take a sip of wine and pace the room, trying to calm down, knowing this isn't my mom's fault. I would be confused and upset too if I were in her position, but I'm also not going to stand here while she talks badly about Kirill.

She says, "You married a man you can't even take anywhere."

"What does that mean?"

She scoffs. "He has a scar on his face. And why do you think that is, Fiona?"

I turn to face her, blurting out, "Because his own father and uncles sliced his face because he wouldn't rape a woman. That's why, Mom."

Her eyes widen and her face pales.

My heart races so fast that I feel ill.

Mom's shock glares hotter. Her lips tremble, and her face turns green. She puts her hand on her stomach.

The urge to protect Kirill overtakes me. I add, "Now you know what happened, but don't go spreading it around. It's not anyone's business but his, and now mine since I'm his wife," still angry that she dared talk about his scar.

She can barely speak. "His father and uncles did it to him?"

"Yes."

Her wineglass falls out of her hand. It shatters into shards on the floor.

"Mom!"

She steps over to the couch and sits down, staring at the floor, shaking harder.

New dread fills me. I sit next to her, asking, "What's wrong?"

She slowly looks at me, her voice quavering. "How old is he?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Forty-five, maybe."

I expect her to scold me for not knowing how old my own husband is, but she's too distraught. It's like I can see the wheels in her mind turning, so I wait.

Time drags and drags until she swallows hard. She grips her knees and then looks at me. "Your father had nightmares. They kept occurring and wouldn't stop. One night, he was drunk. He woke up from a nightmare and was still intoxicated. He was so upset. He told meabout the Petrov boy whose family tried to destroy him. Did he really..." She swallows hard again, staring at me.

I quietly finish her sentence, "Did he really know Dad?"

She nods, her eyes overflowing with tears.

I try to think about whether I'm allowed to tell her, but I no longer care. I can't lie to her about everything. "Yes, Dad knew him. He was the one who saved him, Mom. So, he may have the Petrov name, but he's not like them. If he were, he wouldn't have lived his entire life since he was eighteen with scars all over his face and body."

She silently looks at me, as if she's seeing a ghost.

I finally beg, "Mom, say something, please." I put my hand on hers.

She looks at it. Then, a new shock fills her features.

The pit in my stomach grows.

She grabs my hand and examines my ring. "This can't be yours."

I yank my hand away, quickly stating, "Of course it is."

An ocean of tears streams down her face. She sobs, "How is it possible, Fiona?"

I hesitate to ask, "How is what possible?" My chest tightens.

---