Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
I turn to my plate, pushing some more food around.
“Why do you think I keep dropping hints to my son?” Teddy says, laughing.
I grip the fork hard, spear two pieces of pasta, and put them in my mouth. Maybe puking would be better than this conversation.
“But he won’t listen,” Teddy says with a chuckle.
“There’s no rush, Dad,” Aiden mutters.
“Thirty-three is old,” Teddy replies.
“Not sure what that makes me, then,” Dimitri says jokingly.
“You’ve always said you wanted children when you were younger,” Teddy continues.
I look up at Aiden, my heart suddenly fluttering with confused urgency. “Do you?”
“I’ve said it a couple of times. Dad likes to exaggerate.”
“I believe you once told me the world would make sense if you could find the right woman and start a family.”
“Hmm. Maybe that was too much beer.”
“Well, do you want kids or not?” I snap, doing my best to ignore how everybody is looking at me like I’ve gone nuts.
“I think most men do,” Aiden says noncommittally.
“You told me if you found the right woman, you’d waste no time—”
“Dad, cool it,” Aiden grunts.
Teddy, red-faced and happy, puts a hand on his chest. “Excuse me.” He rolls his eyes at the table. “For such a big, tough guy, my son can be prickly.”
“You might as well say,” I tell Aiden. “We’re already talking about it.”
Aiden runs a hand through his hair exactly when Mikhail does. It would make me laugh if I didn’t feel like I was about to pop with tension. “It’s true. I’ve told Dad I want kids, but that doesn’t mean it’s all I want. It doesn’t mean I’ll put it before everything else.”
“What if you find a woman who doesn’t want kids? What then?” I question.
“Oh, he’d throw a fit!”
“Dad,” Aiden snarls, slamming his fist on the table.
Silverware leaps up, and a glass slides off and almost falls, but then Dimitri catches it instinctively, putting it back in its place.
Aiden stands, both fists clenched, staring down at his father. “Read the room, for fuck’s sake.”
He storms toward the door, looking like a man on a mission and ready to turn into a wrecking ball.
“What did I say that was so terrible?” Teddy asks Mom, seeming genuinely confused.
“I think there’s more going on here than we realize,” Mom mutters, giving me a knowing look.
I try to shake my head, but I can feel how false I must look and how make-believe this is. Everybody knows—apart from Teddy—why everything just got so tense. Dimitri frowns at me, and Mikhail is still watching closely, his programmer’s mind ticking away as though I’m an app that needs fixing.
“I just want to eat my dinner,” I tell them. “Is that so bad?”
“No, Ania,” Mikhail says. “You deserve to do whatever you want—whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Things haven’t always been easy between me and Mikhail, but ever since Mila came into his life, it’s like he’s able to let out his softer side far more easily. He can put away the darkness and let the light shine through. Can I do the same with Aiden? It just feels like the world is moving so, so fast.
At least I can eat, though. Somehow. Miraculously. I’m sure there will be backsteps. I’m sure there will be more visits to the bathroom, but here and now, this pasta tastes damn good.
CHAPTER 25
AIDEN
It’s almost midnight, but I can’t sleep. All I can do is focus on the swinging of the heavy bag as I hammer elbows into it over and over, the material cutting my skin, blood dripping down my arm. I’m supposed to be cool, calm, and in control, but Ania’s face during dinner replays repeatedly.
“Mind if I work the other bag?” Mikhail Sokolov says from behind me after quietly entering the room. I heard his footsteps, even over my panting breaths and the fury raging in me.
“Go for it.”
“No gloves?” Mikhail says, walking up next to me as he laces up his own.
“Maybe I’m a masochist.”
He laughs grimly. “You’re making me feel like a baby over here.”
“Nobody could make you feel that way,” I tell him honestly. “I know a violent man when I meet one.”
Mikhail stares at me darkly.
“Don’t posture,” I say. “I’m not judging you.”
“Seems dinner’s put this whole place in a sour mood.” Mikhail starts hopping from foot to foot, rolling his shoulders. “You going five-minute rounds?” He glances up at the timer.
“Yeah.”
He nods. “Okay then.”
The timer goes off, then switches to one minute for a rest. As I pace back and forth, Mikhail says, “Ania would probably prefer it if you wore gloves. She doesn’t want her boyfriend covered in cuts.”
“Boyfriend?” I growl. “I’ve known her a couple of days.”
“Aiden,” Mikhail snaps. “Don’t insult my intelligence. A goddamn blind man could see something is going on between you two.”
I don’t say anything; I just walk to the counter and pull on my gloves. Mikhail punches his together. “She ate a lot at dinner,” he goes on. “Dimitri and I noticed her problem a while back. We’ve been trying to decide the best way to bring it up. She’s so sensitive.”