Page 52 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
“Sure, I’ll wait for you.”
She heads into the guest bathroom, and I hear the tap running. Standing alone in the bedroom, I stare at the open doorway. I feel good. Warm and comforted in ways I didn’t expect. But at the same time, deep inside me, there is a warning.
You can’t erase the past. Saying sorry doesn’t take away what I went through. Her sincerity now doesn’t change what happened.
She steps back into the room, and my eyes roam over her, her beautiful face, and her elegant, willowy body. I used to know her inside and out. I used to know her heart.
Maybe, I still do. Maybe not.
But just for the moment, because she wore her heart on her sleeve like that, I can take a step, too. I can play my part in making things easier between us.
“Anya, how about a truce?” I say, a crooked smile on my face.
“What kind of a truce?” She knits her brows and presses her lips together, her eyes filled with curiosity.
“One where we stop bickering and let go of the tension between us? And maybe we give each other the benefit of the doubt?” I shrug.
“That sounds really nice.” Her voice is flooded with relief. Her smile widens, shining all the way to her eyes, glittering in them.
“Good. Let’s do it then. We’ll have champagne to celebrate.” I hold my arm out and she steps to my side, letting me wrap my hand around her waist as we walk back into the party.
“You know what happens when I have too much champagne.” She grins with a cheeky smile as she glances at me.
“Mm. I do. I’m not exactly complaining,” I muse.
“Where have you two been, and why do you both look guilty?” Kira shouts from the pool as we step onto the patio.
“Oh, shush, you little troublemaker,” I shout back, laughing.
She winks at me and lifts her hand to splash water in our direction.
“I really like your family, Em. You’re very lucky to be surrounded by so many good people,” Anya says, smiling as she looks around the garden at the small groups of people laughing and enjoying the sunshine.
“I know I am.” I smile too. But in my heart, I know I want more than this. Family is incredible, and I adore every single one of them.
But I want love like I once had with her.
Love that I’m not even sure was real or not.
***
The rest of the party is relaxed and fun. Anya stays at my side, and there is a definitely shift in the energy between us. By the time we leave and head back to the airport to fly home, Anya is exhausted.
In the plane, she falls asleep, her head resting against my shoulder.
I shift my position and wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer.
Her skin is sun-kissed, glowing from a day by the pool. Her expression is peaceful.
While she’s sleeping, I watch her, wondering what she meant when she said that if she could go back, she would change things. What would she change?
What would she want for us?
Sighing softly, I close my eyes and lean my head back against the chair. There’s no point dwelling on it. Accept her apology for what it was and understand that it can’t be anything more than that.
But she does feel incredible in my arms, her warmth soaking into my body, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest soothing my thoughts.
For now, this is peaceful, and I’ll enjoy the moment.
