Page 177 of Marrying My Ex's Brother
His hand covers mine. For a moment, he says nothing.
Then, in a voice so low I barely hear it, he says, “Now I am.”
My chest tightens.
I hate how much those three words do to me.
Behind us, someone clears his throat. Viktor, probably.
Yaromir doesn’t look away from me. “Leave us.”
The command moves through the hall like a blade.
Men scatter. Viktor says something to one of them and steps back. Nina disappears toward the side corridor, though I can feel her looking at me before she goes.
When the hall is empty enough, I finally notice my hands are trembling against Yaromir’s shirt. He notices too. He takes them in his.
“There is no breach here,” he says. “The house is secure.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. I’m telling you.”
I look up at him. “And I’m telling you that knowing doesn’t make it less frightening.”
His jaw tightens.
Not in anger. In recognition.
He looks tired now. Not weak, never that, but worn at the edges. Smoke clings to him. Gunpowder too. There’s a dark smear of blood across one knuckle. His scar looks pale against the soot on his face.
I have the sudden, painful urge to wash it all off him. To put my hands on every place the world touched him and check that he’s still whole.
That thought frightens me so much I almost step back.
He doesn’t let me.
His fingers tighten around mine. “I thought of you,” he says.
My breath catches. “When?”
His eyes hold mine. “When the shooting started.”
The floor seems to tilt beneath me.
There it is. The thing I felt all morning, returned to me in his voice.
I look down at our joined hands because I don’t trust my face. “You told me I couldn’t leave because it was dangerous,” I say.
“Yes.”
“I hated you for it.”
“I know.”
“I still might.”
His thumb moves once over my knuckles. “Good.”
