Stealing her from her family would never replace the one he’d lost. Making her share his fate wasn’t a loving act. Giving her up was. But considering how she made him feel, was he selfless enough to do it?
He drank with the guys and they tried to make him feel better, but there was only so much they could do. Around eleven he poured both Banner and Ambrose into cabs, and sent them home to their women.
After another text and call to Varushka, he gave up. If there had been an emergency, Baba would have found out and called him.
Varushka was just ignoring him.
Now the question was whether it was because she was angry that he hadn’t returned to Russia, or that being apart had made her realize that hot sex wasn’t the same as love.
Or maybe she’d realized there hadn’t been much to love about him at all.
* * *
The racket the toaster made when it popped gave Konstantin another item to add to his list. Aspirin, nicer friends, quieter toaster, possibly more beer. Who would convince a guy to drink too much the night before a series of important meetings? Sure, the first one wasn’t until two o’clock, but if he could get this hangover under control by then it would be a miracle.
He buttered his toast and went to sit in the living room, forcing himself to leave his phone on the kitchen counter. Staring at the tiny screen and memorizing Varushka’s last text message while he suffered through a splitting headache wasn’t doing anything for his mood.
Scrolling through the channels wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying without Varushka there to yell and throw cushions at him every time he stopped on a car-overhaul show. Cars were ridiculous and boring, and didn’t he want to kiss her rather than watch television anyway?
Every girl he’d ever dated had either been interested in cars or pretended she was. Maybe it was crazy, but he loved the fact that Varushka forced him to leave work at work. She reminded him that there was more to life than engines and custom paint, and even more mind-boggling, that there was more to life than sex.
He eyed his untouched toast, his stomach in knots. It wasn’t just the hangover. He’d had no appetite for days.
Giving up on the idea of breakfast, he walked back to the kitchen and dumped his toast in the garbage, then went outside to give the animals food, and let the goats get some exercise. He wasted another few minutes weeding a garden Varushka would probably never set foot in again, even though when he bent over his head throbbed like somebody had hit him with a rock.
Later, he wandered back to the house for a shower. He wished he could have slept in, but Varushka had gotten him used to waking up early every day. Starting the day with a snuggly girl crawling up his chest had become one of his favorite things.
As the sun rose, he’d woken from a dream where she’d been sitting in his lap, wrinkling her nose at something he’d said, then kissing his chin. His bed had been an empty, sad place to wake up in. There’d been no going back to sleep after that. He’d stared at the ceiling making lists of the pros and cons of flying back to Russia immediately to reclaim her. The pros were all good for him, but not so good for her.
When he’d checked his phone there were still no messages.
Showering and brushing his teeth helped him feel more human, but the bathroom counter had been empty and forlorn without her. Usually, when he was getting ready for work, she followed him around like a puppy, looking for attention and stealing kisses and generally making a nuisance of herself. She would sit on the counter and talk to him while he shaved. A few times she’d even shaved him. There was something about a girl worshiping the ground he walked on that agreed with him. The fact that he worshiped her back was the best part.
What was the point of walking through life empty like this? How had he ever been content with it?
It was hard to decide if he was torturing himself on purpose or not when every little thing in the house reminded him of her. He contemplated selling the place if things between them were done, but could he let it go considering all of the memories it held? He was going to end up wandering the house like the madwoman in the wedding dress from the Dickens book.
From the kitchen came the sound of his cell ringing. He considered ignoring it until he realized it was Varushka’s ringtone. His heart revved and he barreled down the hall. On the way, he stubbed his toe but was only vaguely aware it hurt. When he scooped up the phone and answered it, his hands were shaking.
“Hello?” He tried to slow the thudding of his heart, aware that his voice sounded as anxious as he felt.
“You’re never coming back are you?” Varushka was sobbing hysterically.
His heart sped faster, making him feel sick. For some reason he’d pictured her sliding back into her old life and being happy there. He’d imagined she was on her way to forgetting all about him. Finding out he’d been wrong made him the happiest asshat on the planet.
“I have meetings for the Nebraska deal for the next three days. Then I’m flying back this weekend, remember? I’m sorry this is taking so long.” When she’d stopped talking to him, he’d wondered whether he’d be going at all. He tried to swallow the feeling of panic that came with hearing her cry. When she cried he just wanted to fix it, and knowing she was crying because of him made him feel like a monster.
“You’re not sorry!” She made a strangled noise that broke him. “You took everything, promised me everything, then you dumped me here and forgot about me! I hope she’s pretty at least, whatever girl you’re fucking. I know I’m not like those fancy women you used to date, but telling a girl like me that you love her to get into her pants is just mean. You could’ve had me without that.”
Her sobbing sounded completely out of control now.
“Varushka? Varushka!” he called, but she didn’t respond. He’d be surprised if she could hear him. Under his bare feet, the granite floor was smooth, but the cold radiated up his legs as he paced. “I’m just here for work. If it wasn’t for that I’d be with you right now. There’s no one else, Varushka. After being with you no one else would ever be good enough.”
There was no way to guess whether or not she’d heard him. She kept crying and he realized that if he gripped his phone any harder he’d break it.
“You said you’d come back, but you left me here! My father keeps saying you changed your mind about me, or that you lied so that I’d give myself to you. I didn’t believe him, but then you didn’t come back . . . What am I supposed to think?” The misery in her voice made his chest ache. “I’m not a pretty girl. I’m nothing special. I should’ve known.”
He sank onto the floor and leaned against the cabinet. “I’m only here because of business, malish. It was probably good for you to have time to think about whether or not you wanted me and the kind of life we have together. You’re a good girl, and I’m not a nice man. The things I do to you—I just want to give you time to decide if you’d rather have a husband who is kind and doesn’t make you do perverted things.”
“I love our life, and you are kind to me.” Her voice was raw and she sounded exhausted. “It’s different from the love you see on TV, but I really believed you loved me. And now? I think maybe you broke me. Mama wants to take me to hospital. I can’t stop crying. It’s been two days and I can’t stop. I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Oh fuck. He was trying to be a gentleman and give her time to think, not push her over the edge. What kind of services were available for people having an emotional crisis in Russia? He had a feeling their methods wouldn’t be the same as they would be in America. The thought of her going through that with an ocean between them was completely unacceptable.
He lurched to his feet and bolted to his room then started to throw random pieces of clothing into his suitcase. “I’m coming, malish. Wait for me if you can.”
There was silence on her end of the line. When he looked at the screen of his phone, it read CALL ENDED.
Dread curdled his already-roiling belly.
He thought about t
he multimillion-dollar deal he was in the middle of negotiating and realized it meant nothing to him. They could wait, or they could shove their money up their asses.
His woman needed him.
Chapter Fifteen
Varushka paced a path in front of the bathroom, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. She’d been pacing so long that her footprints made indents on the stained carpet of the hallway.
The package said to wait five minutes after peeing on the stick. It’d been at least twenty minutes but she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. She’d been so emotional for the past few days she hadn’t realized she was supposed to have her period a week ago. That morning, she’d worked up the courage to head to the drugstore and buy a pregnancy test. Although she’d taken a cab to the next town she still felt like everyone knew. She hadn’t been able to stop trembling since.
Icy terror flooded through her. She walked back into the bathroom and stared at the little white stick—a cheap plastic thing that could change her life forever. She wished Konstantin was there with her. Her eyes watered. They should be doing this together and instead he was halfway across the world. The “what-ifs” had been circling her mind since waking up nauseated, then counting back the days to her last period. What if Konstantin decided life was better without her? What if he didn’t want a baby? What if she was pregnant and all alone?
She gave her head a shake. One step at a time. Through blurred vision, she gazed down at the test. There, clearly marked in blue, was a plus sign.
Pregnant.
Funny it should be in the shape of a cross. Her stomach twisted and her body suddenly felt heavy and numb. She didn’t think she could move from that spot, staring down at the test, even if her house caught fire.
Pregnant.
With Konstantin’s baby. She pictured a little bundle with his dark eyes—or maybe her red hair—and a giggle escaped. Her hands went protectively onto her belly, where she rubbed in soothing circles, as if the baby could feel it, as if it would know the depth of her love.
Love? No. Pregnant was bad. Wasn’t it? Her father would find out what she’d done. Her family, her village. If Konstantin didn’t come back for her, they’d know her shame. She’d be shunned from the church. What would Papa say? More tears spilled over onto her cheeks, falling down onto the counter where the test sat.
Even though life as she knew it was over, she felt an overwhelming sense of joy. A baby was growing in her belly. Her baby.
Her sobs turned to laughter and she felt half-mad. Maybe Mama was right to send her to the hospital. She was more than a little crazy. Though at least now she knew why. There was a reason her emotions had been out of control. A tiny miracle was wreaking havoc on her life. She laughed harder.
A little troublemaker already.
He’d take after Konstantin. Or maybe not a he. Maybe it was a girl. She thought about pink dresses and baby shoes and braiding hair like Mama had when Varushka was small.
She fought back the urge to rush to the phone to tell Konstantin. How was this possible? Even the times she was sure he hadn’t used a condom, she’d found out afterward that he had. He’d been so careful. He was going to be so disappointed. Or maybe he’d want the baby. When she’d talked to him about children he hadn’t wanted lots, but he had agreed to some. It was early in their relationship for this, but maybe he’d marry her so the child wouldn’t be without a father.
No. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be someone’s obligation. Konstantin was everything to her and she wanted to be someone’s everything in return.
She gazed down at her belly. No. He wasn’t everything anymore. She didn’t look any different from this morning but suddenly everything had changed. Was her belly bigger already? And her skin paler? She needed vitamins. And food! She’d better start eating more. A skinny bird couldn’t carry a baby safely.
Grinning madly, she picked up the stick, then turned toward the door. She gasped and froze in place. Mama stood just outside the bathroom, her head cocked to the side as she stared at Varushka.
“What are you . . .” Mama’s gaze dropped to the pregnancy test in her hand then her eyes widened. “Varushka!”
“Shh!” She checked the hallway but it was empty so she pulled Mama inside the bathroom. It was too late to hide the evidence now but maybe she could implore Mama not to tell anyone. Not until she got things settled with Konstantin anyway.
Mama closed the door behind her then grabbed Varushka’s wrist to look at the test. Varushka braced herself for yelling, shaming, and possibly being dragged to confession.
She looked hesitantly in Mama’s eyes and saw . . . tears? Then she broke out into a wide smile. “I’m going to be a babushka,” she said, almost questioning.
Varushka nodded.
Mama pulled her into her arms and squeezed her so hard she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, Varushka! What a wonderful blessing!”
They both spilled tears on each other’s shoulders as they laughed and cried together. “You’re not mad?” Varushka asked her.
“No!” Her mother pulled away then gripped her shoulders. “How could I be mad about a baby?” She sobered an instant later. “This will fix things with Papa. He can’t forbid you to marry the father of your child. Have you told Konstantin?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m . . . afraid.”
Mama waved her away. “He can’t escape things now.”
Escape? This baby was a blessing, not a trap. “I don’t want Konstantin to marry me because he feels like he has to. And I don’t want a bitter father for my baby . . .”
“No.” Mama took her hands and squeezed them. “I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. You’re his world. Now this baby is part of it.”
Varushka managed a shaky smile. “I hope you’re right.” Was it true that this baby would fix things between the families? Babies usually didn’t fix things, they complicated them, but maybe this situation was an exception. If Konstantin did want her and the baby, would Papa abandon his ridiculous moral high ground and be happy for them? Or if not happy, at least tolerate Konstantin, for the sake of his grandchild and his daughter’s reputation? If so, maybe this baby was more of a miracle than she’d realized.
Mama hugged her again then straightened her shoulders and scowled. “Now let’s get that boy on the phone!”
* * *
Despite Mama’s insistence, Varushka couldn’t tell Konstantin about the baby on the phone. She needed to do it in person, where she could see his face, read whether he was truly happy or not. No matter what Mama said, she couldn’t go into a marriage, much less motherhood, with a man who didn’t want her.
According to the text she’d received two hours ago, Konstantin was on his way to her house from the airport. She’d spent the last two hours walking around the swimming hole where they’d played vodyanoy. They’d spent the couple of evenings that followed sneaking there to see each other, too, until Antonia had slipped up. Their baby must have been conceived then. She tried to capture every feeling of lazing in the grass together in her memory, in case it was the last time.
Now she sat on the living room couch, alone with this secret, as she fiddled with the hem of her yellow sundress. Her mind had turned over possibilities of how he’d react so many times that she’d gotten dizzy. She’d cried all her tears and was sure she couldn’t cry more, no matter what he said. Yet when a car door slammed outside, her eyes welled up again.
Mama had shooed away her brothers and Papa, giving them errands to do in town so she and Konstantin would have privacy. There was a knock and the door opened. Varushka’s heart jumped to her throat.
He walked in, his head almost grazing the top of the door frame. It was such a relief just to see him that she shot to her feet and ran into his arms. His scent washed over her, calming her, making her feel like everything would be okay. She only hoped it was true.
Konstantin held her tight against him, kissing her hair over and over. “I missed this.” He wrapped his hand i
n her hair, but not to pull, just to tip her head back and study her. “God—I missed everything about you.” Holding her still, he bent his head and kissed her.
He kissed her deeply, like she was his air and he needed to breathe her. Urgently, she moved her mouth against his, memorizing his taste, in case this was their last kiss. All too soon, he pulled away, but he smiled down at her.
For now.
Breathless and warm, she stared into his eyes. When they were apart, there were times when she’d wondered if she was remembering him as being more wonderful than he was—if absence was making her blind to his imperfections. He was a man, not a god, after all. But having him here like this brought everything back clearly. Konstantin was a good and decent man in all the ways that counted. More importantly, though, he was hers just as much as she was his. But a baby could change everything.
Her heart warred between fear and hope and love. Overwhelming love. Tears trailed down her cheeks.
“What’s this?” he asked, wiping her tears with his fingers.
“I . . . I have something to tell you.” She watched his brow furrow in confusion. She didn’t want to let him go yet, but this would be easier if she stayed objective—detached, even. Gesturing to the couch, she said, “Please sit down.”
He looked at the couch then back to her. “So formal.” He chuckled. “But okay.”
After he sat, she stood in front of him, wringing her hands and feeling like an idiot.
“What is it, malish?” he asked softly.
She opened her mouth to answer then froze. Bozhe moi. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say so many times and now it was gone. She couldn’t remember a single word of it.
With her hand on her forehead, she muttered a curse word, then ignored Konstantin’s soft chuckle. A warm hand gripped her wrist then Kon tugged her to him. “Sit with me. I missed you too much for you to be so far away.”
“Far away?” She laughed humorlessly but let him sit her down on his knee. “It was only a few meters.”
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