Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“I’m fine. Just like I told Dmitri, my doctor, and Alona.”
The words come out sharper than I intend. Their constant concern irritates me as well as their hovering chafes.
Something flares in Eva’s eyes, and she draws away. “You know what? I’m trying to make sure you’re okay. I’m worried about you. I care for you, okay?”
Her words catch me off guard. I care for you.
Eva’s actions in the hospital showed me the same, but now she’s said it out loud.
She stands before I can say anything, arms crossed. “I’m obviously bothering you, so I’ll leave.”
Her abrupt change of mood confuses me and gives me pause, but I manage to grab her wrist before she can leave.
“Stay,” I tell her.
Ask her.
She pauses, then sits back slowly, as if she might change her mind at any moment.
“Forgive me.” The words feel strange on my tongue. As a rule, as the pakhan, I do not apologize. But after all she’s done, Eva deserves the words. And so much more. “I’m not used to feeling…”
“Weak?” Eva supplies.
I nod, allowing the word.
“It sucks,” she agrees. “The stomach flu took me out for two weeks once, and I didn’t feel like myself for a full month. By the time I was able to tackle the house, it looked like an earthquake had hit. It took me another week just to get it back into shape. By then, I think they were eating old lasagna from the back of the freezer. I have no idea how long it was in there.”
Eva makes a face, and I laugh. The quiet sound surprises her and a giggle follows, her eyebrows lifting.
“Okay, I guess that’s not exactly the same thing,” she admits. “But it sucks feeling weak like that. Like you can’t do what you want.”
My amusement has nothing to do with her comparison or even her story, though I appreciate her delivery. I’m simply delighted by the woman sitting in the chair beside mine, the one who has brought light, and even laughter, into my life.
Almost on its own, my hand finds hers, and my gaze holds hers.
“I’m attending a gala next week supporting the LA County libraries. Come with me.”
Eva blinks and opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. She swallows and tries again. “You want me to go with you?”
I let out a breath of a laugh. “Yes, Eva.”
“As your date?” Eva sounds bewildered, her eyes wide as dinner plates.
“Yes, as my date.” A small smile lifts one corner of my mouth.
“You want me to be in public with you? With you, and not just somewhere in the background?”
The smile lifts higher. “Yes, Eva. My date, in public, at a gala for the libraries. You love books as much as I do, don’t you?”
Eva is silent for a long time, and I can almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes.
“Yes or no? I don’t need a nurse, Eva. I want you as my date. I want to show you off.”
She gulps, surprise. The words have startled her.
“Umm…” She swallows again. “Okay?”
I smile, our hands still together, hers soft, warm, and small in my grasp.
22
EVA
Idon’t know the first thing about being pregnant, and I’m too afraid to even type the symptoms into my computer or my phone. I sure as hell am not telling Evgeny yet.
Hell, I’m not ready to think about it myself. I spend most of my time pretending nothing is wrong, a trick I learned from my father. Ignore the problem and it’ll go away.
But I can’t help looking in the mirror, searching my body for any outward sign of the inward change. I wonder if my belly is a little bigger or if it’s just bloat. If my math is right, I’m about eight weeks along, but I don’t even know when I’m supposed to start showing.
I should probably go to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy and whatever else I have to do. But I can’t bring myself to do it. One, because Evgeny will know something’s up, and two, because I can’t face that reality yet.
I still have no idea what to do about any of this.
At least my nausea hasn’t made me throw up again. It’s a blessing that my morning sickness, which hits smack in the middle of the afternoon, is mild enough that I can usually pretend nothing is wrong.
Evgeny hasn’t caught on. Dmitri hasn’t either, and neither has Vasya.
I’m pretty sure Alona knows something’s up, especially since I’m eating less and certain things I’ve always loved make me sick just to think about. The woman has practically been force-feeding me porridge and giving me tea from an unlabeled box that tastes vaguely sweet.
Should I be drinking it without knowing what’s in it? Probably not. But I also have no idea what to stay away from. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be on some kind of vitamins, but I can’t get them or take them without raising suspicion from someone in the house.