ALINA WOKE TO the sound of Demyan talking on the phone. He was speaking mainly in English but his sentences were peppered with Russian words and when he turned off the phone and sat on the edge of the bed, Alina had already worked out he’d been speaking with his son.
‘That was Roman,’ Demyan said.
‘That’s nice.’
‘He wants to meet. Probably for another row but better that than...’ He gave a tight shrug. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
‘It’s fine.’ Alina said. ‘It’s good that he called.’
Demyan gave a small nod and she found she was holding her breath, waiting for him to say something, to let her a little bit into that part of his life.
‘You’ll miss him...’ Alina attempted.
Demyan didn’t answer.
‘Can I ask...?’ She didn’t even finish her sentence as his eyes told her that she couldn’t enquire about his son, about the reasons he wasn’t fighting to keep him. ‘You tell me to be myself.’ Alina looked at him. ‘Well, she has questions.’
‘Alina...’ Demyan actually wanted to tell her but how could he? It was the most dangerous secret and Demyan was doing everything he knew how to contain it.
‘Yes?’ She stared back at him. ‘You said my name. Alina. Generally it’s followed by something.’
‘Not this time.’ Demyan stood and went to kiss her but she moved her head.
Last night had been the best night of her life yet this morning all that she felt was cheap.
Alina tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t.
She ordered breakfast but could only pick at it.
Was she supposed to just lie here and wait? He wouldn’t come back, Alina was sure of it, and if he did—for what?
Certainly not conversation.
It was then that Libby called her with the news that an offer had been made on the penthouse, one so good that Alina didn’t have the authority to decline.
‘I’ll put it to Demyan,’ she said, and hung up the phone.
It was over.
She climbed out of bed and picked up her dress.
Of course he’d torn it.
Well, she wouldn’t be walking out with her breast exposed. She’d damn well ring down for some clothing to be sent and charge it to his bottomless pit.
Alina headed to the shower and stood under the stream of water and started sobbing.
She just stood there sobbing, not because of last night but because of tomorrow and the next day and then the next one.
After Demyan.
He let himself in and sat on the bed and heard her sobbing. Demyan put his head in his hands. Her tears did not distress him. After all Roman had just said, Alina’s sobs matched his mood.
Every shudder from her lips felt like his head, every angry moan felt as if it was coming from him, but he remained silent.