Page 52 of Unholy Tsar

The floodgates burst open, and I surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotion. I fling myself into his arms and bawl my eyes out. His arms wrap around me, providing a safe haven as I let out all the pent-up fear and pain I’ve been bottling up for so long. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

19

CECILIA

My cries dry out as Maksim runs his hand through my hair. Sniffling back the last of them, I furrow my brow at the memories that have tormented me for so long.

Maybe it’s time to share that fear, that pain. I’ve finally found someone who can take some of the weight from me.

“He was my fiancé,” I manage to say, leaning back into Maksim’s embrace.

His deep, dark eyes shimmer. “You were married?”

“No.”

His gaze drifts with understanding. “How long were you together?”

“Almost four years. I met him when I was 17.”

“You were seventeen?” His palm momentarily tightens on my hair before relaxing. “You were just a child.”

“Maybe. But I felt so much older. After all that life had thrown at me…”

“How old was he?”

“32,” I whisper. I know how it sounds. Like he preyed on me. And in retrospect, I realize that’s exactly what he did. But in the moment, I was a young girl, starved for love and attention. And he was a man who showered me with it. It didn’t matter that he was almost twice my age. His attention was addicting.

When Maksim doesn’t say anything, I continue. “He was a doctor from a wealthy family. I-I thought I was so lucky. He always brought me gifts and made such wonderful promises. But that wasn’t what attracted me to him. Not really. He had parents, siblings. I thought if I was with him, I’d have a whole family, too. I was so stupid.”

Maksim shakes his head softly. “You were just a kid. Be kind to yourself.”

I smile a little and snuggle deeper into his chest. “You’re so warm.” My words are muffled against his shirt. I take a deep breath, drawing in his comforting scent. “I never noticed how nice you smell.”

Pinching my chin, he tilts my face up to meet his gaze. “Not as nice as you, Malyshka.”

“Malyshka,” I whisper. “What does that mean? It’s different from what you usually call me.”

“It’s not.”

“It so is. You used to call me Meeshka, but now there are more syllables before the shhka part.”

Maksim chuckles. “Stop stalling. I want to hear the rest of the story.”

I sigh. He sees right through me. Burrowing myself back into his chest, I get back on track.

“Alright, fine. Well, whatever happiness I thought I had didn’t last long. But I can be so stubborn. I thought I could fix it. Looking back, though, there’s no way I should’ve stayed after that first year.”

“What happened after the first year?”

“He… he got erratic… violent. I remember him slapping a waiter because he spilled a drink on me. Then one day, he suddenly quit his job at the hospital. When I asked why, he wouldn’t tell me. Not until he got sick of all my questions. Then he just said he found a better job…”

“Drug smuggling.” Maksim guesses.

I nod into his chest.

“Eventually, I figured out he’d joined an organization that smuggles medicine in from Mexico. He said it was to help his patients who couldn’t afford it. I thought he was a hero… so when he asked me to help, I didn’t even think twice.”

“That’s when you were arrested...”