Page 82 of The Lies Between Lovers

He only shrugged.

“It’s a matter of perspective. We’ll both see it how we want to.” Leaning back in the chair to pull out a blind and check the window once more, he said, “I know you have history with him—you don’t need to tell me about it. You’re worth nothing to that man at the end of the day, Vera, and I have an intimate history with what happens to the people Feliks doesn’t care about. The bigger problem is that everyone else—including him—thinks I can’t remember a lot of what happened back then, but the truth is ...” He dropped the blind as he trailed off, resettling into the chair with his hands folded behind his head as he stared at her on the bed. “The truth is, I can’t forget. Not in my mind, maybe, but me. In my muscles, that feeling has never left. Especially when he’s nearby. I can taste the hatred, and the way it sours on the back of my tongue when I hear him talk.”

Behind his head, his hands had curled into tight fists. That’s what Feliks Abramov did to Vaslav just by existing. He made every inch of the man want to destroy everything in front of him until there was nothing left but a bloody, broken Feliks begging on his knees.

Vaslav shrugged, then, smirking a little. “I won’t apologize for not wanting him anywhere near you, and making sure that he had every incentive to play by my rules in that regard.”

Vera didn’t drop his gaze; he was sure he found a challenge there, but she didn’t verbalize it. Not that they would have been able to get into all of it.

In the next second, the private room’s door shoved all the way open. Every dim light brightened as Igor hit the switches on the wall on his way by. Kiril followed the barrel-chested man carrying a bouquet of daisies in one hand and roses in the other. The younger of the two carried three floating balloons of various shapes all proclaiming a desire for Vera to Get Well Soon.

“She’s awake,” Igor proclaimed with a wide smile.

“Kinda scared me doing that,” Kiril added behind the man as he tied off the balloons to the tap on the sink.

Maybe it was the bright colors from the flowers and balloons, or perhaps it was just the surprise guests walking into her room with easy smiles, but Vera’s mood brightened. She put on the same sweet smile that always drew Vaslav in and reached for the flowers Igor was already handing over.

“I love white ones,” she told him, sniffing the roses first.

Igor shot his boss a look. “I’ll remember that, then. How do you feel?”

“Tired.”

“I bet—” Kiril snuck fast around Igor, taking center stage. “—and I didn’t break the awning, by the way. I went and checked.”

Vera’s laughter rolled through the room. It wasn’t lost on him how easily she could talk to the two. Or rather, how easy it was for all of them to carry a conversation. He was always the quiet one, anyway, stuck in a corner somewhere watching people interact rather than interacting himself.

The longer he remained quiet and separate from the conversation, the more Vaslav felt the need to step out of the room altogether. Without a word, he stood from the chair and picked up the tweed blazer hanging off the arm of the rocking chair.

“I’ll go find a vase for those,” he told Vera, nodding at her flowers now resting on their side on the table. “Before they get too dry, yes?”

“You’re coming back, right?”

His steps around the bed hesitated, and Vas swore he felt every pair of eyes in the room turn on him. Her blatant question might have caused him pause, but his answer was easy. “Of course, I’m coming back.”

*

The vending machine clinked with the coins Vaslav dropped into the slot while he pined over the options behind the glass. Not that there was very much to get excited about, but he needed something to keep him going—the coffee offered by the hospital did nothing to keep his eyes open.

Eventually, he settled on the bar of dark chocolate at the very top that didn’t look like very many had been sold. Dark chocolate was an acquired taste, and one he preferred over the too-sweet milkiness of the rest. Keying in the appropriate code for the treat, the machine whirled and pushed out the bar to the edge where it fell for Vaslav to reach in and pull it out of the slot.

Stepping backward from the vending machine, he ripped open the corner of the wrapper on the chocolate bar and turned away as he raised it up for a bite. Unfortunately, the chocolate didn’t make it to his mouth before he had to use it to speak first.

“How long have you been standing there?” Vaslav asked.

His sharp tone didn’t even make the quiet doctor flinch. “Not long. Good to see you’re avoiding sugar. That’s a nice choice.”

“Only in chocolate. What do you want, Bogdan?”

“You know I prefer Doctor—”

“I don’t care what you prefer when you sneak up on me like a little rat,” Vaslav interrupted coolly.

Bogdan Nikitin didn’t look at all different from the last time Vaslav stood toe to toe with the man. Only then, that had been in an office in an upstairs wing of the hospital dedicated to the many specialists and surgeons with teams that came with the privilege of offices and communal spaces.

“Imagine my surprise to hear you’ve been in my hospital twice in the last week,” Bogdan said. “I thought someone was telling me lies.”

“Here I am.”