Natasha
NatashaI don’t know where I’m going. All I know is I need some fresh air. I need to get away from Dima and his anger and blame. From my regrets and desires. From the constant churning and yearning Dima produces in me.
I throw open the back door and skid down the slick wooden steps from the deck to the rain-soaked earth. It’s spongy and wet under my bare feet, mud sinking between my toes as I run.
“Natasha.”
Damn him. He ignores me for hours on end, and the one time I need some space, he has to follow?
I keep running, heading into the thicket of trees, tears blinding me.
“Natasha, get back in the cabin!” Dima follows me.
I run faster.
“You really do love punishment don’t you?” he shouts.
Oh, hell no. No, no, no, no, no. He doesn’t get to throw that in my face. To shame me f
