Page 301 of Ruins
Vasilisa. My wife.
My light.
She’s standing near the window, her hair catching the late afternoon sun, the streaks of it falling across her like a halo. She’s happy. I can see it in the curve of her lips, the relaxed way she moves as her brush sweeps across the canvas.
And I’m about toruinit.
I don’t deserve this moment, this peace, not after what I’ve done—what I’veallowedto happen. The weight of my failure has been clawing at me, suffocating me, ever since that night. Ever since I broke the one promise I swore I’d keep.
My chest tightens as I take a step inside. She turns when she hears me, her smile widening, her eyes lighting up like they always do when she sees me.Fuck, how can she still look at me like that?
“Santo,” she greets softly, setting the brush down and wiping her hands on a rag. “You’re home. How did it go with Angelo?”
“Vasilisa.” Her name catches in my throat, and I see her smile falter, her brows knitting in concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, taking a step toward me. “Did something happen?”
I hold up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Stay there,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean for it to be. She freezes, her head tilting slightly, her confusion evident.
“Santo?”
I run a hand down my face, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “I broke my promise to you,” I say, the words coming out like gravel.
Her face falls. She blinks, her lips parting as her breath hitches. “What... what do you mean?” Her voice trembles, and I see it in her eyes—thefear, the doubt creeping in.
I take a step closer, but she takes one back, her hand clutching the rag tightly. “Santo, what are you saying? Did you—” Her voice breaks.
“Did you cheat on me?”
“No!” The word bursts out of me, sharp and immediate. I cross the distance between us in two strides, my hands reaching for her shoulders, but I stop myself just short of touching her.
“No, never.Neverthat. Don’t even think it.”
Her shoulders relax slightly, but her eyes stay locked on mine, searching, unsure.
“Then what is it?”
I swallow hard, the guilt twisting in my gut. “I promised I’d never let anything or anyone harm you. And I failed. I let you get hurt.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, she just stares at me. Then, slowly, she sets the rag down on the table and steps closer, her hands lifting to cup my face.
“You didn’t fail me,” she says softly, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her eyes.
“Yes, I did.” My voice is hoarse, raw. “I swore to you that nothing would touch you, and it did. You werehurt, Vasilisa. And it’s my fault.Iwasn’t there. I didn’t stop it.”
Her fingers tighten slightly, grounding me, forcing me to focus on her. “I survived because of you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “There wasno wayyou were going to lose me, Santo. You’ve lost too much already, and I knew I couldn’t be another piece of that pain. So I fought for you. I fought because I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.”
Her words slam into me, and I feel my knees weaken. Before I know it, I’m sinking to the floor, wrapping my arms around her middle, pressing my head against her chest.
“I should have been there,” I murmur, my voice cracking as her warmth envelops me. “I should have stopped it. I should have—”
“Stop,” she whispers, her fingers threading through my hair as she holds me close. “You did everything you could, Santo. You’ve given me all I need and everything I want. I love you.I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, the guilt and anguish pouring out of me as I cling to her. “I don’t deserve you,” I rasp, my voice breaking.
“Yes, you do,”she says firmly, her hands cradling my head. “You do, Santo. You’re my home, just like I’m yours. Andnothingcan take that from us. Not even this.”
Her words wrap around me like a balm, soothing the raw edges of my guilt. I stay there for a moment, kneeling at her feet, holding onto her like the lifeline she’s always been.
