Page 129 of Tarnished Queen

I feel the familiar dip of his weight on the mattress next to me, and I can’t help but wonder when his body next to mine became so familiar. When did Nikolai become this foundational part of my life?

I roll onto my side and drape an arm over his chest like I’ve done it a million times before. His skin smells like the night—dewy and lush. “Where were you?”

“Nowhere.”

There’s a strange note to his voice. Something that wasn’t there when I fell asleep, but I’m drowsy and comfortable and it’s late. I let it go for now.

“You weren’t sleeping?”

“I’m not tired,” he says. But he sounds dead exhausted. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I was just thinking about when things switched,” I murmur, my eyes still closed.

“Switched?”

I feel the subtle shifts in his breathing as he responds, the way his chest rises and falls. It’s a steady thing. I squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah. Like, when things between us switched. When did we go from… whatever we were before… to this?”

“What is ‘this’?”

It’s embarrassing to have to define it, but Nikolai might be as new at this relationship stuff as I am. Neither of us know what we’re doing. There’s some strange kind of comfort in that.

“A marriage,” I say, sort of ducking the question. “When did we become two people who like each other and, for the most part, get along? We talk now. We’re honest with each other. It just feels… easy, doesn’t it?”

I listen to the in and out of his breathing, the thudding of his heart beneath his rib cage. I’m so preoccupied that I don’t immediately realize how long he’s been silent.

Finally, I open my eyes and sit up. “Nikolai?”

“I have to tell you something,” he says suddenly.

The bubble of bliss bursts in an instant. I turn to him, my pulse twice as fast as a second earlier. “Okay.”

He doesn’t feel the same way. You’re coming on too strong. Three amazing orgasms and you’re suddenly writing poetry and pretending you’re in a fairytale. And he’s going to rip it all away, watch him, brace for it, get ready because—

“I lied to you.”

I try to quiet the naysayer in the back of my head, but I can’t. As I watch Nikolai, his expression as unreadable as ever, every insecurity I’ve ever had comes rising up inside of me.

I inhale sharply and then force the air back out. If I keep breathing in and out, then I’ll be okay. Actually, that’s a lie—I’ve been through enough to know that’s not true—but it’s all I have right now.

“Lied about what?”

“About my family.”

“Your family? You mean… they died, right?” I say, repeating what I remember. “Your mom died and your dad killed himself.”

“That’s what I told you. That’s what I wanted to be true.”

I frown. “You wanted your mom to die of cancer and your dad to kill himself? What the—what does that even mean?”

Nikolai sighs. “My mom did die of cancer. That was true. But the other part… well, if my dad had killed himself, it would have been easier than the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

But Nikolai just sighs again and passes a hand over his tired face. He looks so weary suddenly. Like he’s been carrying the world on his back for so long and his legs are finally starting to tremble.

I groan. “Just tell me, Nikolai. I’m dying over here. What’s wrong?”

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