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1080 Words
This is my fight-or-flight response.
I should go for the latter, but why are my fingers twitching to reach for my gun and put a bullet in her head?
It’s not her you should shoot, it’s the stupid asshole you couldn’t kill.
It’s not her fault that he chose her over you.
Both of those are legitimate arguments, but does my bleeding heart listen? Absolutely not.
In fact, I find myself illogically comparing myself to her. Where she’s wearing an elegant dark red dress and has her hair styled to perfection, I’m in a stupid combat uniform, and my hair is held so tight, my scalp hurts.
Where she’s wearing natural-looking makeup and soft pink lipstick, I’m makeup-free, and my lips are chapped and dry.
We might both be women, but we’re in different leagues.
I bet she can’t shoot a gun to save her life, though. So there’s that.
Kristina watches me peculiarly as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. She must be wondering why Kirill’s guard is now a woman.
Or maybe she’s heard about me. Did she feel any of the fire that’s been eating me from the inside out when she saw that ring on his finger?
Though that unfeeling asshole Kirill could’ve gotten identical rings, and the one he’s wearing could have her name engraved within.
Karina pulls away from me, and I don’t know if it’s because Kristina called her name or because she felt me tense against her.
Is it wrong that I feel a bit vindictive that Kristina is on a diminutive form level with Karina? I thought she didn’t make friends easily and I was her only one. But like her damn brother, she didn’t seem to have any trouble quickly replacing me.
Karina grabs her by the arm and grins at me. “Sasha, this is my new sister-in-law, Kris!”
My stomach falls, and I try to swallow, but it’s blocked by the ball stuck in my throat. I side-eye the f*****g liar Kirill, who’s casually leaning against a pillar, ankles crossed and a knowing smirk painting his lips.
Only wife, my ass.
I can’t believe the level he was willing to drop to just to get what he wanted.
“Also, also!” Karina pats Kristina’s stomach. “She’s carrying my baby niece.”
A blush covers Kristina’s cheeks. “We still don’t know the gender, Kara.”
“Don’t care. I only accept baby girls. I already started shopping for pink.”
Did…I hear that correctly?
Is Kristina pregnant? Already?
Nausea explodes at the back of my throat, and I physically shudder.
I think I’m going to throw up.
“Oh, Kirill.” Kristina walks up to him. “You look pale, and your bandage is all soaked with blood. Shouldn’t you see the doctor?”
She places her hand on his arm, and I think I’m losing the battle, because I’m already reaching for my gun.
Stop touching him.
Or I’m really going to kill him now.
I’ll make your damn child fatherless before it’s born.
“Don’t worry about him.” Karina scoffs. “He’s like a cat with nine lives who refuses to die already.”
“Kara!” Kristina scoffs softly.
She still has her hand on his arm.
Stop touching him.
Stop f*****g touching him—
My thoughts come to a halt when Kirill’s lips slowly tug in a smirk. He slides his gaze to my hand that’s on my waistband. I hate that he knows exactly what I’m going to do.
I hate that he can read me this easily, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that from happening.
“At least you have the courtesy to worry about me, dear sister-in-law.” His brows draw together. “My actual wife is heartless and couldn’t care less whether I live or die.”
What…?
Sister-in-law?
“What the f**k happened to you?” Konstantin walks in from the entrance and stops at the view of Kirill bleeding and barely standing.
He holds Kristina by the waist and kisses the top of her head.
“A little dispute,” Kirill says in his usual provocative yet amused voice.
My mouth is open, and my hand drops from the back of my pants.
It’s safe to say I don’t have the slightest clue about what the hell is going on here.
“Sasha.” Konstantin grins with contagious happiness. “You’re alive.”
“Sort of,” I whisper.
“And I was wondering why Kirill didn’t have demons whirling around him by the dozens.” He walks toward me and pats my shoulder. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.” I stare between him and Kristina. “Are you guys…married?”
“Yeah.” They look at each other with a deep sense of affection that slices my heart open. Probably because I used to give Kirill that naïve look before he stabbed me in the back.
“Wasn’t Kristina…supposed to marry Kirill?”
“He plotted that whole thing to bring us together,” Kristina says softly and looks at Kirill with deep gratitude.
Someone is actually grateful to the monster.
I must’ve landed in an alternative reality.
And yet I can’t help the sense of relief that washes through me at the knowledge that he never married her. She’s not pregnant with his child, and she loves his brother.
The asshole knew this all along, but he still enjoyed playing with my emotions. It’s probably a test of sorts for him.
It’s always a test with Kirill.
Everyone and everything is.
“Congratulations.” My low voice carries in the entrance, and it actually sounds as if I’m being honest.
And I am. I just don’t know what to make of the situation anymore. All this time, I’ve held on to the sense of his betrayal as fuel for my hatred.
Every night, I’ve dreamed about him at that altar with Kristina. I’ve had nightmares about their happy lives together after I was out of the picture.
But now that I’m seeing for myself that they were never a couple, I have no clue how to keep my hatred and rage at the same level.
A significant amount has been purged from my system, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to restore it in the foreseeable future.
“Kirill!” Konstantin leaves his wife’s side and catches his brother just before he falls to the ground.
- Writer
