Later, I’m back in my room, fresh from nearly an hour in the bath. My hair still drips onto the collar of my bathrobe as I sit on the bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror. I lift a hand and trace my freckles. Without my contacts, my reflection blurs, but I know what they look like barefaced. I’ve hidden them under makeup for so long.
Except that night. The night Aleksei bathed me. My throat closes, memory clawing at me, and I drag in a breath to smother another wave of tears. After that night, everything shifted. No, Aleksei was kind after. He even came to me at the store. We made love before the chaos began. So what changed?
Nothing. Nothing changed. Aleksei just remembered what was real for him. Who was real for him. After facing death, he realized who he truly loved. My
