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“Your torso,” she says, her face pale. “T-the… scars…”
Fuck.
I stare at my shirt that’s now wrapped around her arm. I took it off willingly, without thinking. “I… they’re not…”
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m faltering for words. At the crucial fucking moment.
“That’s why you never took your shirt off around me,” she whispers. “You were trying to hide the scars.”
I had made the decision to lie about this. I thought I’d settled on it. But now, staring at her trusting face, knowing that she jumped in front of a bullet for me, out oflovefor me… I know I can’t lie to her.
She deserves better.
She deserves what Adrian never gave her.
She deserves the truth.
“Yes.”
Unease starts to edge into the corners of her eyes. “Why?” she asks, sitting up a little. She winces and grips her injured arm with the other. She shakes off the pain and fixes me with a piercing gaze. “Kolya. Answer me.”
And even though I’d vowed never to break her heart, I know I have to. If there’s to be any hope of our relationship being different from what she shared with Adrian—I have to tell her the truth.
What happens after that is anyone’s guess.
52
JUNE
He isn’t speaking.
Why isn’t he speaking?
The look on his face says I won’t like what he has to tell me. And that realization alone makes me want to forget about the scars and pretend like I don’t see them. Like they never even existed.
But I’ve spent too much of my life burying my head in the sand. It feels like the easier option in the moment, but it’s the kind of sacrifice that feeds away at your soul.
I love Kolya Uvarov.
But I refuse to love him at the cost of myself.
“Kolya, please,” I say, my voice coming out raspy and fearful. “Just tell me.”
I can smell blood and sweat. I can smell the stench of death despite the fact that Ravil’s body has been removed from the room. My nose seeks out the scent of vanilla beneath like a security blanket. It’s there, but it’s masked. Stowed away on the other side of the thing I least want to hear.
“I was there the night of your accident, June,” he rumbles.
His words don’t immediately register. I frown and repeat them again in my head. “Wait… what accident?”
His eyes dip down and land on the scar on my leg. That’s all the answer I need.
The night your dancing was taken from you.
The night your baby was taken from you.
The night your world was taken from you.
“Y-you were there?” I stammer. “I… I don’t understand.”
