Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Here goes nothing.
My throat thick, I disclosed, “When you commit to someone, you don’t sleep around.”
Anika stilled. She didn’t move or say anything for a long moment. And when she found her voice, it was faint but unwavering. “Vik has never, will never, would never cheat on you.”
Oh, Anika. Poor, naïve Anika.
See? This was why we didn’t talk about Vik.
And maybe it was the alcohol, or the rejection—I don’t know. But my chest tightened, and I felt the cooling trail of a tear escape me.
Anika struggled to sit up, watching my face, blinking slowly as she fought off the pull of sleep. “I’m serious, Nas. I don’t know who told you he had, but I’m telling you right now it never happened. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
My lips trembled as I forced out a bitter laugh. “Listen, I may not be a genius, but it sure as fuck doesn’t take one to know that when a man goes out at 2:00 a.m., doesn’t let you come over to his apartment anymore, and sneaks into your bed at dawn, then something ain’t right. How do you explain that?”
“His apartment,” she whispered, and it was odd, the way she said it. My friend looked down at her hands, hesitating. Next time she spoke, it came out gruff. “Oh God. I’m going to kill him.” She licked her lips, avoiding my narrowed gaze. “You should talk to him.”
That was it? That was her grand advice? Talk to him? Just… I don’t know… ask whether or not he slept with other women?
Ha!
I’d rather run through a field of poison ivy, wearing nothing but a pair of flip-flops.
But I reran what she said, replayed it over and over, listened deeply, and heard something she wasn’t telling. She said it as though she knew something, something I was missing. And a big ball of doubt rested on my shoulders.
“What are you saying, Ani?”
My suspicions were confirmed when she prompted quietly, “It’s not for me to explain, Nastasia. Maybe you should have aired your concerns and spoken to Vik about this. What I will say is that in all the time you’ve known us, in the almost thirteen years you and Vik have been you and Vik, have you ever seen him look at another woman the way he looks at you?”
Had I?
Surely, I had.
I ran through my memories, and… well, no. I guess I hadn’t.
Our problems began when he started keeping things from me. Communication had always been our strong suit. But during the last six weeks of our relationship, he started to act strangely.
Whenever I would text, he would respond hours later and offer no excuse for the delay.
I would call, and he’d quietly tell me he couldn’t talk at the moment, that he’d call me back later. Only, he never would.
He would come over, and it was like he wasn’t even here with me. He wasn’t present. He was often tired and sulky, then fall asleep in my bed while I silently wondered which girl he spent the night with to cause him such exhaustion.
Doubt set it. It set in deep.
It ruined us.
Anika looked me dead in the eye and said, “My brother is a lot of things. Viktor is stubborn. He is proud, and—let me tell you—I think he’s beginning to understand that his pride may have cost him the one thing in life that actually meant something to him. You.”
Oh, balls. Why did I swiftly get the feeling I didn’t have all the facts?
I straightened. “Talk to me, Anika. If you know something—”
But she cut me off. “I’ve already said too much. I promised I wouldn’t get involved.” Her expression apologetic, she admitted, “But it’s hard, Nas. You’re miserable. He’s miserable. Please,” she beseeched, “don’t tell him I said anything. Just—” She thought about it. “—talk to him.”
My heart didn’t race, but I was hyperaware of the steady, heavy thump in my chest.
No. She couldn’t do that. That wasn’t fair. Because if what she was saying was true, it changed things.
And as I lost myself for a while, pondering all she said, I turned to ask her one more question, when I heard her light snuffling and took in her closed eyes.
Damn it.
Anika’s shot found its mark in my heart, and like the hellcat I was, curiosity got the better of me.
I was an idiot. It was the only excuse I had for standing off to the side of Vik’s apartment door, practicing exactly what I would say.
My gut clenched at the possibility of being unwelcome here.
What the hell am I doing?
My eyes snapped shut, and my palm landed against my forehead with a light slap.
I felt stupid and desperate and resentful all at once.
Shaking my head, I began to pace, licked my lips, and let out a barely there, “Okay. You can do this. No pain, no gain.” My anxious stomach turned, and I swallowed hard, then whispered to myself, “Hi. Hello, Vik.”