Page 187 of Hunter's Revenge

“No. It’s not. I love my wife. Desmier loves his. We both have kids. We know what can happen. We’ve seen what can happen and lived it, but neither of us would have it any other way. Not us, nor our wives. It’s not living, Malik. To reject love is death.”

The conviction in his tone grips me. It cuts away the layers of my fears and reaches the place inside me where I need it most.

“You, Desmier, and I are Knights, and we have a duty to the Brotherhood.” His gaze is unwavering. “At the same time, we’re supposed to carry on the legacy of the Volkova line and run the empire. But the most important thing we can do, above all of that, is vow to protect the ones we love with our lives. If you don’t think you can do that, and if you believe that time can help you move on from whatever you feel for Gwen, then forget her. Wish her well and forget her. But if you think time will make you live with regret, then don’t this. Don’t sign those damn divorce papers.”

I make the choice simple because it is, and my answer is the latter. I would spend the rest of my life protecting her, and if I lost her, every moment that passed without her would kill me slowly.

The wind picks up, and the papers lift in my hands.

As I allow the answer to process in my mind, I release my grip and allow the wind to carry the document away from me out to sea.

I look back at Zakh. He’s smiling.

I am, too, and I make a new vow.

A new promise to myself.

To do whatever it takes to get wife back.

ChapterForty-Four

Gwen

Grams smiles in utter fascination as I push her wheelchair into the radiant sunshine.

The sun is beaming down on every rose in the garden, making them sparkle as if they’ve been sprinkled with magic.

Sometimes, I love watching Grams take in these moments because she looks at things as if she’s never seen them before. Then I remember itislike that for her.

As her condition has worsened, everything is new to her.

Even me.

Every day I visit is like we’re just meeting for the first time, but I get to form that bond with her all over again.

We head to the willow tree. It’s between the duck pond and the water fountain. I place her in the shade and sit on the bench in front of her.

“How about we read some Shakespeare today?” I hold upRomeo and Juliet,and she smiles.

“I’d like that, dear. You’re very kind to read to me while I wait.”

“I’m happy to spend time with you.” I nod.

“Only if it doesn’t take up too much time.”

“I have as much time as you want.”

Her smile brightens. “Thank you. My relatives will be here soon.”

This is something new she started doing the other day. She knows she’s supposed to be waiting for her family to visit—me. But she doesn’t know me.

She thinks I work for the hospital and I’m just doing this because I’m kind. I’ve started telling her stories about herself, but she doesn’t know the woman I’m talking about is her.

It’s heartbreaking, but I do it anyway, for her and for these moments we get to spend together.

In a twisted way, I’ve found myself thinking that perhaps it was best she didn’t remember me during the time I was away. If she had, she would have worried herself sick. The shit I went through might have pushed her into an early grave.

I open the book and start reading, allowing my voice to become animated just the way she likes it. My mediocre attempts to act as if I’m on a Broadway stage entertain her, so it’s worth it.

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