Page 24 of Cashmere Ruin
I wonder what would have happened if I’d done this before. What pain we might’ve avoided. What blood might’ve been left unspilled.
“It was the only way,” I add in a whispered croak. “The only way to keep the three of them safe. I had to claim the baby as mine. There’s no telling what Vlad would’ve done otherwise. And Yuri… he didn’t want anyone to know. In case word got back to Vlad.”
April listens without a word. She listens until the very end.
It’s unnerving—why isn’t she sayinganything? The irony isn’t lost on me: Silence finally hurts.
But eventually, April speaks. “Did he ask you not to tell me?”
I hesitate. “He asked me not to tell anyone.”
“Right. But he didn’t ask you not to tellme.”
I’m starting to get irritated again. What’s with the sophism here? He saidno one—what’s the goddamn difference?
“I tried to tell you,” I insist. “The day before the wedding?—”
“Which was a whole week later,” she objects. “Why not tell me from the start?”
I want to say,Because my brother asked, but I can’t even get the words out. After all these lies, I can’t bring myself to say another one.
Because in truth, it was never about Yuri.
I could’ve asked him to keep April in the loop—hell, I could’ve demanded it. I was holding all the cards; I had no reason to compromise.
But then that voice said…
Can you trust her?
I’m trying to find a better way to say it. A way that doesn’t make me sound like a complete asshole.
But April’s had her share of silences, so it’s only fair that she’s gotten good at reading them. “Right,” she mumbles, stealing the words right out of my mouth. “I’m not blood. Got it.”
“I never chose Petra over you,” I point out. “I never lovedher, April. I?—”
Say it. Just fucking say it.
“You lovedme?” April fills in, but there’s something off with her tone. Something dark and bitter. “No, Matvey. That’s just another lie.”
It’s like a dagger to the heart. I clench the covers and rise, ignoring the biting agony in my shoulder. “How would you fucking know?!” I roar. “How would you know what I felt?”
“Because if you love someone, you trust them!” she yells into my face. “And if you can’t trust someone…”
That’s when I notice the tears in her eyes.
“Then you don’t lovethem,” she rasps. “Not really.”
I feel my rage rise. Every time I’m near this woman, I swear, it’s like I can’t control myself anymore. It all goes right out of the fucking window. “I was right, though, wasn’t I?” I say. “You couldn’tbe trusted. Tell me, April: did you think of ‘trust’ when youkidnapped my goddamn daughter?!”
She reels back as if slapped. “I…”
That’s when a noise snaps us both out of it.
No, not a noise:crying.
“Oh, no.” April rushes to the drawer. “No, no, no, shh. Hush now, sweet thing. Mommy’s got you.” She picks up the bundle of blankets and starts rocking it in her arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, May.”
The breath catches in my lungs. For a long second, I forget how it goes. One beat, then another. “ … ‘May’?” I echo.