Page 80 of The Fire Beneath the Frost

I crossed the room before I could think better of it, crouched down, and picked it up.It was made of soft blue cotton, with the second button missing.I’d watched him wear it so many mornings, sleeves rolled to the elbow, collar open just enough to make my throat go dry.

I held it to my face and inhaled.

Dimitri.

The sharp, clean scent of his soap.The faint musk of his skin, familiar now in a way that made my heart clench.

But underneath it—

Something sweeter.Artificial.Cloying.

Perfume.

Her perfume.

My stomach turned.

I dropped the shirt like it burned me.

It hit the floor in a quiet heap, limp and pathetic.Just like me.

God, what the hell was I doing?What kind of man lets someone else wear the shirt of the man he loves and then thanks her for coming?

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands buried in my hair.

I loved him.It was that simple, and that impossible.

I loved him in a way that made everything else feel dull and distant, like the world before him had been in black and white.And he’d brought the color.The music.The madness.

But I didn’t know how to keep it.

Everything we had existed between shadows.Hushed voices, secret glances, brief touches behind locked doors.A life lived in the margins.How long could anyone survive like that?

My breath hitched, and I rubbed my chest like I could scrape out the ache.

And that’s when I heard it.

The front door opened.

Closed.

The floor creaked.

My head snapped up.

Dimitri.

The sound of his boots on the floorboards made my chest seize.Slow, measured steps, like he was trying to keep himself calm.Like something might break if he moved too fast.Or maybe that was just me.

I heard him crossing the room, going straight to the dresser.I turned my head just enough to see him in my peripheral vision.His jaw was clenched, movements clipped, and his anger came off of him in waves.He grabbed his bag and yanked it open with a vicious tug.

His shirt still lay on the floor like an accusation.He reached for it, and my voice came out cracked and low, half-buried under everything I didn’t want to feel.

“Did you fuck her?”

Dimitri froze.

He didn’t look at me right away.He held the shirt for a moment, like he wasn’t sure what it even was anymore.Then he dropped it onto the bed and came toward me.

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