He clenches his jaw, making it even more square than normal, and I resist the urge to reach out and massage his cheek. I want to be the person who eases Viktor’s burdens. Like Seamus and Niamh, I want to be the person who stands by his side and makes this life easier to bear. I want to take his weight and carry it like my own, and I want to give him some of mine.
But I can’t put any of that weight on Theo or my unborn baby. I simply won’t do it.
So, I keep my hand fisted tightly at my side.
Finally, Viktor shakes his head. “This life is dangerous, but you know I’m working hard to make it less so. I’m doing what I can to get rid of Fedor, and I’m making alliances I never would have made even two months ago … because of you.”
“Don’t do it on my account,” I say, interrupting him.
“I have to,” Viktor grinds out. “You are the reason I’m still fighting at all, Molly. You and Theo and our baby … without you, I don’t have a reason to fight. Don’t you understand that?”
My heart cracks. From top to bottom, a line forms in the organ in my chest, and I feel it change irreparably.
My eyes fill with tears, and I blink them away.
“If you were really my wife,” Viktor sighs and looks up towards the ceiling, like he is imagining it. “If you and I were really married, nothing would be different for me. I would still go above and beyond to keep you all safe. The only difference is that I wouldn’t have to wonder when you’re going to leave. But no matter what, I’ll protect you and our kids until my dying breath.”
Viktor’s blue eyes pierce through me, leaving me breathless, and then he turns and walks back into the bathroom without another word. I stand in the same spot for a long time, wishing I could go after him and confess my feelings. But I don’t. I stay motionless even as he collects his commissioned drawing from Theo and leaves without telling me where he is going.
14
Viktor
It feels good to have work to keep me busy. It’s just a delivery of cash. Money made from various deals over the last few weeks that needs to be funneled through the motels I operate around the city. A lot of people pay cash for a night in the hotel, so it is easy enough to do.
Still, I’m grateful for the distraction.
After my conversation with Molly, I feel flustered and vulnerable. I need to get out and do something. Anything.
Usually, I’d call Petr in to handle something like this. Or, at least, oversee that it’s done. But I’m not sure I can trust him anymore. George still hasn’t gotten back to me about what Petr is doing in Italian territory, and I don’t want to rock the boat until I have all of the facts. My boat has been rocked too many times as it is.
Just as I’m climbing back into my car, debating whether I should go back to Molly’s place or mine, Molly calls.
“Hi.” Her voice sounds small on the other end of the line, and I’m not sure why she is calling me. To apologize. For what? I can’t even blame her for being afraid to be with me, even though it has me near the end of my rope.
“What’s going on?”
“I just got off the phone with Niamh,” she says, the words coming out in a rush. “She called, and I tried to tell her I needed to talk with you first, but she told me I could make decisions for the both of us, and the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to have her and Seamus over to our penthouse for dinner.”
I nodded along, trying to take in what she’s saying. “Okay, but we don’t have a penthouse. Not together, at least.”
“Hence the call.” She sighs. “I wanted to give you space after … well, after.”
After she told me it was never going to happen. After I cut my chest open and handed her my heart, and she stood there silent and motionless.
I push the thoughts out of my head, trying to focus on the present.
“But,” Molly continues. “I realized that we don’t have a place together, so we’ll need to pick one and … make it home.”
“Okay.” I still feel slightly lost, but I’m catching up. “We’ll just do it at your place.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Since Theo and I already have our stuff here. Plus, your place is still a total bachelor pad. Niamh would never believe I live there.”
I can hear the teasing in her voice and it feels good to have a moment of normalcy. “So, it’s settled.”
“Yeah, but we still need to make it look like our house,” she says. “Pictures of us. Mementos from our life together.”
Seamus praised my attention to detail at the restaurant when I saved his life, but I know he has a keen eye himself. Molly and I haven’t given him any reason to doubt our relationship as anything other than legitimate, but I don’t want to give him any reason to be suspicious.
“That’s smart. I’ll arrange a photo shoot. I’ll just make a few calls.”
She lets out a small sigh of relief. “Okay. Great. We can just have them printed at the shop a few blocks over, and I have picture frames in the closet.”
“And I’ll go home, pack up some of my stuff, and bring it over …” I hesitate, still not sure whether I’m going to her place or not. I could easily make the decision, but I don’t want to force myself on her. Not right now. If I want any chance of Molly changing her mind, I know I need to let her control the progression of our relationship. I forced her into the marriage, but I can’t force her into loving me.
“Tonight,” she says.
I’ve stayed at her house for the last two nights, but it still feels like a big deal for Molly to want me to come back. Especially after our conversation this afternoon. I laid my hopes out bare in front of her. Is this her way of accepting them?
I try not to put too much stock into her invitation, but I can’t help it.
“Great. Then, I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“See you soon,” she says softly.
At my house, I pack a suitcase with enough clothes to get me through a week, though that feels a bit too optimistic. Molly and I can’t spend two days together without getting into an existential fight about our relationship. I might be gone as soon as dinner with Seamus and Niamh is over.
Then, I grab everything I need from the bathroom—I already have a toothbrush at Molly’s—and a few pictures from my office of me standing in front of the Kremlin and the Grand Canyon. I leave all of the pictures of Fedor behind. I don’t want to look at them anymore, and I know Molly doesn’t either.
Just as I’m finishing up, my phone rings again. I answer without looking, assuming it is probably Molly calling to check on my progress.
“Viktor. It’s George.” George doesn’t need to announce himself—his voice is deep enough that it’s obvious—but he is too formal for anything less. “I’ve got news.”
“Let’s hear it,” I say, though I hardly mean it. Whatever he has found out, I don’t want to know. Something finally went right. Molly wants me to come over, and I’m excited about it. I don’t feel like being brought down with bad news. Yet, I know this information can’t be delayed.