Page 97 of Scarlet Sins

It’s sitting there, next to the phone where my wallpaper’s now Sasha. Before I just left it factory fresh.

Shit.

I can feel Erin’s gaze on me and her worry stings the air.

But those words don’t come. It’s not fear for the new baby or that it’s more important than Sasha, or even, God forbid, I don’t want it.

“Demyan?” she asks. “I know there’s something. You were distracted when we went in and I buy that you’ve got a lot of work. But not now. You got quieter in there, apart from your very pretty words designed to make me feel better.”

Crap. I grind my teeth, still searching for something soft and palatable to give her from the whirlwind inside me. “It’s all good.”

“No, it isn’t. Or rather, I don’t know what it is,” she mutters. “Thing is, if we’re going to get married and make itwork, then you need to be honest. Good, bad, ugly. And we’re not always going to like each other. There’ll be fights. There’ll be times I’m going to be so angry I hate you, but I’ll always love you. And love only works if we bend with it and have open communication. Talk to me.”

She’s right. Fuck me, is she right. “I don’t know,” I say, still searching. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes, you do. Say it.”

I breathe out. “I’m glad I saw our baby right then and there when it’s so fucking small. But damn it, seeing the ultrasound just reminded me of everything I’ve missed. All that time I lost with Sasha because of your lie.”

My words seem to scream in the air. And they get worse as the silence stretches.

“I could say that you left a fake name, that I didn’t know you and the warning I got… But you’re right. I might not have lied to your face. But I could have ignored my brother’s warning.”

Fuck, I need to invite him to the wedding, too. I slot that in the back of my mind.

And guilt washes over me at what she’s saying.

“I could have tried harder; I could have demanded the details he dug up. But I didn’t, and for that I’m sorry. Sorrier than you could ever know. I’m sorry, but while I can’t change the past, I can promise you’ll miss no more of either of our children’s lives.”

When we walk inside, the house smells good, which means Magda’s cooking even though dinner isn’t for a few hours at least. But Olga is there and she smiles.

“Sasha’s just gone down for his afternoon nap, but he had one earlier so I can get him up if you’d like?”

“No,” Erin says, yawning. “I could go for a nap right now, too.”

I kiss her forehead. “Go, have one. I’ve got work to do anyway.”

As Olga disappears to do housework, Erin says, “I mean what I said, Demyan.”

“I know.” I ignore the twinge of something that feels like guilt. “Go and nap and I’ll wake you before dinner.”

She nods and starts across the foyer, but I pull her back. “Do you want to invite your brother to the wedding?”

“Can we?” she asks, eyes shining. “He might be too busy, but?—”

“Consider it done.” I kiss her, wanting to make it clear all’s good between us. Then I release her, watching her climb the stairs.

I’m about to head to the converted room for Ilya when I hear him shouting and the nurse comes out of my office. This one is younger, pretty, and looking close to tears. I let her pass as I head there instead.

“You go out without your damn chair, you yell at the pretty nurse and… where’s your wheelchair?”

“I don’t want that thing.”

“Tough. You’ll use it.” I march off and grab it from his room, telling the nurse to take the evening off, full pay, as I go.

I park it next to the sofa in my office, but he ignores it. “I don’t want it. I’m sitting, see?”

“When you need to get around.” I glance at him and then the door. “I’ll change my office lock so you can’t get in next time.”

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