Page 137 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“I am doing well.” As well as can be expected under the circumstances, at least.

“But what about your job?”

“He let me contact the agency yesterday. I spoke to Chadwick to let him know I’m taking a leave of absence, and I’ll contact him when I want to start work again.”

“Won’t that hurt your career? You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are.”

“I can’t concentrate on anything right now as it is, so it all works out fine,” I tell her. Mostly true, although Aleks’s walls would beg to differ.

“I suppose he wouldn’t let you work anyway.”

“I actually think he would. I’m the one who made the choice to stop.”

I frown, wondering why I feel the need to defend Aleks, even though he’s the reason I have to make all these hard choices in the first place.

“If you say so, dear.”

I decide to change the subject. “Have you been going to your book club meetings?”

“Not since… all of this,” she says rather vaguely.

It was the same way after Dad died. Mom still talks around it to this day. Well, when your dad… you know. As if it won’t be real if she doesn’t say the words aloud.

“You should go back.”

“I can’t just continue on with life as if nothing has happened.”

“That is exactly what you should do,” I fire back. “I told you, I’m living well here and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t do the same. Go to book club. Please. For me?”

She lets that sit for a moment. “I suppose I can think about it.”

“Good.”

“Are you still talking to her?” I smile when I hear Mia’s voice from the other side.

“Hold on, honey. Mia wants to talk.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself, Mom. And don’t worry about me.”

“I’m your mother, dear. I always worry about you.”

She passes the phone over. I can hear Mia panting slightly as she walks through the house. “Hey, you,” she says, between labored breaths. “How ya holding up?”

“Good enough, I guess. A little better.”

“Forced isolation has left you with plenty of time. I hear people in jail get really good at push-ups.”

“So we’re onto jokes now?” I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t say I’m totally isolated. I see people.”

“Like who?” she scoffs.

“Um, well, the maids. Some of his men. And, uh…”

“Him?”

“Not often,” I say quickly. “Not if I can help it.”

“What’s it like?” she asks curiously. “Being around him?”

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