Page 90 of Final Installment
“Mostly,” I agreed, “but I’m also done answering her summons.I’m done with Houston, too.”
“I get it.”She didn’t need me to spell out all the reasons why I never wanted to go back there.
Feeling vulnerable, I confessed, “Kristo knew about what happened when I was fourteen.He brought it up on the boat, used it against me.He told Luka.”
“How did Luka react?”
“I don’t remember.”I could see the disbelief on her face.“No, really.So much of what happened there is a blur.It’s bits and pieces.It’s all fuzzy around the edges.I had a knife buried in my gut, and I was already exhausted and terrified.I thought Skender was dying.I knew Luka was because he’d been shot twice.”
“Well, it’s not as if you’ll ever have to see him again,” she reasoned helpfully.“Right?”
“Yeah,” I said, faking a smile even as my heart shattered.“That’s true.I’ll never see him again.”
I managed to hold it together as we slowly took the stairs up into the plane and got seated.I pretended to be tired and asked for a pillow and blanket that I used to cocoon myself in my seat, hiding away from my family.
My eyes burned, and my throat ached as emotion welled up inside me, threating to erupt.I let the tears come silently, refusing to sob, refusing to let anyone else know that I was dying inside.
I’ll never see him again.
That one night was all I would ever have of him.Like a fever dream of lust and need and desire, it would shimmer away, fade into nothing.It would be like it had never happened.
As much as it hurt, I had to acknowledge the ugly truth.Luka was never meant for me.He was never going to be mine.Our one night together hadn’t changed any of that.
He would heal and recover and eventually find love with someone who fit into his complicated life.
And me?I’d go to Shanghai, work hard, build something for myself and learn to be content in my role as aunt to Dafina’s baby.That’s all there was for me.That’s all there ever could be for me.
The sooner I learned to accept that, the better.
Chapter Twenty-One
Five Months Later
Sittingoutsideonhisfavorite bench, Luka tugged the zipper a little higher on his sweater.The crisp autumn air wasn’t cold, but after his injuries and illness, he seemed to be more sensitive to temperature.He suspected it was related to the ongoing anemia, but he couldn’t be sure.His bloodwork had improved substantially, and his treatments were working.A few more weeks and he’d have a clean bill of health.
And then what?
The peace pact had been dissolved.The Raffaelli family had been forced to admit they’d lost the money held in trust.To avoid being taken out, Carlo Raffaelli had agreed to pay the Russians what they were owed for the deal Luka had arranged on the promise of the trust money.
Luka hadn’t revealed to anyone that he knew exactly who had taken that money.There was no point in dragging Skender into this, not after he’d had to have half his face rebuilt with metal plates and screws.It was easier to let everyone believe that Kristo and Carlo’s capo had been scheming.Which, actually, wasn’t a total lie.Kristo had been working with Paolo Barella to undermine their bosses.Blaming the whole thing on the two of them was a neat and tidy way to tie up loose ends.
A bird caught his attention.It landed in Drita’s kitchen garden and started to peck away at the dirt.He stared at the neat rows of winter vegetables that were starting to grow.He’d never really paid any attention to all that hard work she put in, but five months of recovery, of biding his time and being stuck in a bed and then a chair had opened his eyes to a lot of things.There was so much invisible work that happened around the house, and Drita never complained.She did it happily, served the family loyally.
I owe her so much more than I pay her.
Surviving a bombing, kidnapping, shooting and sepsis had forced him to take a step back and evaluate his life.The answers he found weren’t good.They proved what he’d always feared.He had accomplished nothing of value.He had done nothing to add anything positive to the world.He had taken and taken and taken and never once tried to give.
Not like Elona.
She’d lost everything as a child.She’d been exiled from her home, forced to move to a strange country with a language she didn’t know, after losing her father and most of her family to violence and bloodshed.She’d survived that villain of a mother.She’d made it through an abusive relationship and had come out stronger on the other end.She had gone to college, gotten two degrees and established herself in the business world.
She didn’t make excuses.She got up.She did the work.She made things happen.She even found time to volunteer and give back to her community.
She gave and gave and gave.
Not like me.
I can’t live like this anymore.
