Page 64 of Plaintive Vow


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“But Baba Mila says—”

“And I said no. Your mother doesn’t speak Russian. Until we teach her, don’t cut her out.”

“That’s not…” I start to say, but Andrei cuts me off with a sharp look. I know I’m only arguing out of habit, so I smile, turning my head away to try to conceal it. Mila glances between the three of us, looking uncomfortable.

“Sorry, Mama,” Niko mutters to his plate, looking confused.

I pat his hand, smiling. “It’s okay, baby. Eat your dinner.”

For several long moments, the only sound is his silverware clattering against the plate as he eats while Andrei and Mila glare at each other.

“As I was saying, I don’t have anything to do with Niko going to your place every week. That’s all Blair. If it were my choice, you wouldn’t be alone with him until you learned to treat Blair with respect.” I blink while Mila gapes. “I don’t understand why she allows it, but she’s proven time and time again that she’s far more generous than I am. So, if you insist on thanking someone for ensuring you’re still a part of his life, thank her. Anyone else would be a waste of breath.”

For the first time since we met, Mila looks at me. Actually looks at me. Her jaw is tight, and she looks like she’s swallowed a lemon, but at least she isn’t lookingthroughme.

Only then do Andrei’s words click.

“Wait, did you really think I was going to try to keep Niko from you?” The question tastes bitter on my tongue. “You two adore each other. Regardless of how you and I feel, I’m not going to keep you from him.”

She doesn’t respond, but I never expected her to. I’m grateful for what Andrei’s trying to do, and I make a note to tell him as much later, but some feelings are too deeply ingrained to be erased with a single, tense dinner.

The rest of the meal is quiet, only broken up by Niko’s tentative questions and attempts at conversation, and he speaks in a mixture of English and Russian. He glances between Andrei and Mila whenever he switches, like he’s worried that one of them is going to yell at him every time he does.

When she’s getting ready to leave, I’m startled when Mila rests her hand on my arm.

“Thank you for dinner,” she mumbles as she passes by. “I’ll see Niko again next week?”

For a moment, I’m stunned.

“Of course,” I tell her. Over her shoulder, Andrei smirks as he helps Niko tie his shoes so he can walk his grandmother to her car.

Chapter 19

Andrei

The more I see how happy small things make Blair, I get angrier and angrier with the majority of the people around her.

Demanding she be respected shouldn’t make her so happy. She should expect it. She shouldn’t be so pleased whenever I make my appreciation for her known. And she definitely shouldn’t light up from within whenever I give her my undivided attention, like she’s unused to being cared about.

I’ve made it my goal to make her so happy that she’ll never have to accept anything less than what she deserves again.

After the near disaster that was dinner with Mila, I figured she’d be pissed at me, but the way she slipped into my arms that night, curling close and wrapping herself around me like she didn’t want any space between us, erased any lingering doubt over what I did.

I promised her that this week we’d have a more relaxing time together. I wasn’t sure if she’d like this, but the grin on her facetells me she’s having the time of her life as she checks out every shelf in this little used bookstore.

Blair darts down another aisle, laughing as she pulls me along by my hand. She doesn’t have to, but I cling to her hand anyway. If she let go, I’d still be right behind her, carrying the stack of worn paperbacks she’s selected.

She crouches in front of another stack of books, running her finger along the cracked spines as she inspects every title lined up in their tidy rows.

When her pile of books grew tall enough that it began to wobble in her hands, I took it from her so she’s be free to select as many as she wants.

“I knew you like reading, but I think I underestimated just how much,” I say as I take another book from her as she slips it off the shelf. There’s a line between her brows whenever she reads the blurb on the back, and I can’t help but smile at it.

“Books are reliable,” she replies distractedly as she puts the book back on the shelf. “They don’t change for me, and I can’t do anything to change them. I like knowing that I have no choice but to get immersed and go with the flow, you know?”

I can’t say that I do, but I hum anyway, helping her stand.

“Are you looking for anything specific?”