Page 119 of Scarlet Secrets

“I appreciate you wanting to do that for Alina.”

“And for you,” I add.

Her lips press together, hard. “But… marrying someone else? How the hell did you think I wouldn’t find out, or did you think I’d be fine being your sidepiece?”

“I didn’t think?—”

“No, you didn’t.” She grimaces, then says, “You didn’t think. I mean, did you stop to wonder what I might think or how it might affect me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Go get your new bride. I’m tired.”

“Fuck Stefina,” I growl. “It’s you I want.”

This time, she looks at me. “Thing is, Demyan, I’m not sure what I want anymore.”

Her words cut into me and I can feel the ice pouring in, jagged-edged.

“Erin—”

“The doctors want to keep me overnight, so you should leave.”

I narrow my eyes. Her words cut harder. “No,” I say.

“Go, Demyan.”

“Too bad,” I say stubbornly, “because I’m staying.”

She turns and glares at me. “Go home, Demyan. Take care of our son. I want space and the least you can do is give it to me.”

Fuck. I want to fight, argue, stay. But she’s right. I have to give her what she wants. And Sasha woke when we left, crying, so I do need to get back for her, for him. What I want is to take her too.

What I want is to send Ilya home to bring Sasha here.

I’m lost and I don’t know what to do.

“Go, Demyan. Please.”

“Fine.” I push out the word. “But Ilya is staying.”

I call him in. He rounds the corner and steps into the room, offering a smile to Erin, and I clench my fist.

“Stay with her, do not leave. Where she goes, you go. And if anything happens to her, it’s on you.”

“Of course.”

And left with no other option, I leave.

I’m tired,frustrated, and angry. Sleep’s not going to come easily, if at all, because I’m fucking worried about Erin.

She pisses me off, too, because she’s not listening to me. Not listening to reason. Okay, maybe I deserve her ire, but she knows how I feel. And when the fuck have I had time to be with anyone else?

Erin might not have accused me of that, but she might well have.

Shit. I need… I need soothing. And there’s only one thing for it.

I take the stairs and ease open Sasha’s room, wanting to see him, to breathe in that innocent air and smell he has.

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