Natasha
It had been three days since that night and I hadn't spoken a single word to Mikhail. We had perfected the art of avoiding each other.
When I saw him coming down the hall, I turned and went the other way. When I entered a room and he was there, I found an excuse to leave immediately.
He was doing the same thing. I could feel his eyes on me sometimes, but the moment I looked his way he was already turning away, his jaw tight and his expression blank.
It was better this way. That's what I kept telling myself. He had made it perfectly clear that morning what our night together had meant to him.
It meant nothing. A drunken mistake. Something to forget and never speak of again. Except I couldn't forget.
God, I tried. I tried so hard to push the memories away, to focus on my tra
