Pavel thought about that. Then he asked Sam, “Mama, since I’m going to be a professional hockey player, too, can I stop doing my math homework?”
“No,” he and his wife answered at the same time.
Nikolai added, “You like your dream, like telling everyone you will be hockey player like me,” he told the boy with a sniff. “But you cannot think yourself into becoming professional hockey player. You do not have what it takes to make this happen.”
Pavel’s eyebrows squished together, his mouth turning downward into a sad frown, and Nikolai could feel his wife’s eyes on him, harsh and judging.
“But Papa told me I was going to be a great hockey player cuz it was in my blood,” Pavel said with a voice that was half tremble, half whimper, as if Nikolai had just dashed the biggest dream he’d ever had. “And he wasn’t lying about you, so I thought for sure he wasn’t lying about this.”
“Fedya did not lie, but he did not tell you truth either,” Nikolai informed his nephew. “You should not want to be like Fedya. Talent but no discipline. You should want better for yourself, but you want easy dream.”
Pavel didn’t answer, but his eyes were bright with unchecked anger even as his bottom lip quivered. Nikolai could tell the boy was working hard not to cry… or punch his uncle.
“Pavel,” his wife said quietly. “Breathe. Breathe slowly, until your ready to look at what your feeling right now. It’s just a feeling in your body. One you can just observe without acting on it.”
Nikolai had no idea what that meant, but apparently Pavel did. The little boy took several deep breaths. And then his eyes shuttered, as if he’d come to some sort of conclusion.
“Uncle doesn’t think I’ll be a hockey star like him,” he said to Samantha with a quiver in his voice. “He doesn’t think I’m good enough because I’m not a Rustanov like him. Because Papa was an addict.”
Before his wife could chime in with one of her nonsensical suggestions, Nikolai slammed his hand on the table, forcing the boy’s attention back to him.
“Do not put false words in my mouth, Pavel. You are child. Your job right now is to listen to adults, not say we say what we don’t say.”
Now Pavel shook his head. “But I don’t understand. You said—”
“I said you do not have what it takes. Yet. Pavel, have you ever played hockey?”
“You mean on ice?” Pavel asked.
“Da.”
“No, just in the living room with Papa,” Pavel admitted with a frown, as if just now considering that having never actually learned how to properly play or skate might be an impediment to the bright future his father had promised him. “So that means I can’t be a good hockey player like you?”
Nikolai glanced at his wife. Her hands were clenched tight around her silverware, her body slightly leaned forward as if she was primed to physically jump between him and Pavel if Nikolai said the wrong thing.
“No, I’m saying you are not good hockey player yet,” Nikolai answered his nephew. Then he heard himself say, “I must teach you, and then you will be great hockey player like your papa.”
Pavel’s eyes lit up like Nikolai had just given him the best Christmas gift ever. “Seriously? You, Mount Nik, are going to teach me to play hockey?”
“Da,” Nikolai answered, his voice gruff. He looked across the island at Samantha and said, “Starting tomorrow, Dirk will bring him to me after school. I will make him work hard, so he can have his dream and not lose it.”
“But what about homework?” his wife asked. “His math…”
“We can do it after dinner!” Pavel all but yelled. “I promise I’ll do my homework after dinner every day, no complaining, if you let me play with Mount Nik. Please, Mama, please!”
Pavel actually had his hands clasped together, and he shook them like a supplicant at the feet of a Mary statue. “It’d be me practicing with Mount Nik! Mount. Nik.”
Sam’s nose wrinkled and Nikolai could tell she didn’t quite understand why this was so important to Pavel, but eventually she caved with, “Okay, but if you ever don’t do your homework, I reserve the right to cancel your next practice.”
“If he doesn’t do homework, I will cancel all of his practices for week, so lesson is learned,” Nikolai assured her.
Pavel came out of his seat as if he hadn’t heard either of their caveats.
“This is the best day of my life!” he yelled, throwing his arms in the air. “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you!”
Back Up loped over, licking at Nikolai’s shoes as if to say she approved of this arrangement.
Nikolai answered Pavel’s enthusiastic thank you with a stiff, “You’re welcome, Pavel.” Then he picked up his fork to finish his dinner. Maybe, he thought to himself, maybe this wasn’t the worst idea in the world.
He’d been afraid to spend too much time with the boy before. He looked too much like Fedya, and it still caused an uneasy sensation inside of him when he let himself look at Pavel too long.
But perhaps this would be a good thing. Maybe spending more time with the boy would… help with the other things he didn’t like to think about too much. The things that made it feel like the ice rink inside his chest was cracking apart when he thought too much about the demons that had led his brother down the path of addiction.
But maybe this would help with that—inoculate him, so he could look at the boy without thinking of his doomed brother. He eyed Pavel, still waving his skinny arms in the air as he informed Samantha that he was going to be the best hockey player ever because Mount Nik would be his coach. In any case, practicing would put some muscle on the boy, Nikolai thought to himself. He’d need those if he truly wanted to make his NHL dreams come true.
“GOOD JOB WITH PAVEL TONIGHT,” his wife told him, when she visited him in his office after putting Pavel to sleep that night.
She dropped into one of his guest chairs, and as she did so, Nikolai took her in with hungry eyes. Her twists, which she’d gotten redone for the wedding, were hanging down and she was dressed in jeans and a simple sweater. A cold weather wardrobe choice for sure, but just looking at her made Nikolai think of sunny days, and when her eyes raised to meet his…
That ice breaking feeling again, like a warm front was moving across his chest as he let himself take a tiny moment to revel in the fact that she now belonged to him. That the woman in the green dress was now his wife.
“He was still talking about your offer to train him when I tucked him in. He’s saying Back Up will probably want to come, too, so do you want me to text Isaac about the arena’s policy on dogs or do you want to handle that?”
“I am boss. He may bring dog if he wishes,” Nikolai answered.
She grimaced a little. “Okay, but be sure you don’t create a monster there.”
He crooked his head to the side. “You do not think I know not to indulge my nephew too much?” he asked.
She gave him a teasing smile. “No, I’m not talking about Pavel, I’m talking about Back Up. Start taking her to your skating rink and she’ll expect to come everywhere with Pavel from now on.”
So she wasn’t questioning his parenting skills, only his decision to let Pavel bring her useless dog along. There came an unexpected release of tension in Nikolai’s stomach.
“And the security person you sent to the shelter, Suro Nakamura?” Her voice was tight, and he tensed again, waiting for her anger.
But then she lowered her eyes and said, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful and generous gift. I’ll be sure to send you a donor acknowledgement letter for your taxes at the end of the year.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. Then he waited, sensing there was another subject looming on her agenda, one he wouldn’t necessarily like.
He was right.
“About what happened this morning…” she said.
SAM WASN’T FOOLED THIS TIME when Nikolai’s face went totally blank. She knew better now. The last time he’d gone completely neutral on her, the most rabid fam
ily lawyer in Indiana showed up on the doorstep a few days later.
This time the shuttering of his hooded eyes sent a chill down her back. But she swallowed to get some moisture going in her mouth and pressed on. “That was a really intense nightmare you had. It sounded like you were scared. Really scared.”
His gaze went cold, his eyes two green circles on a bed of ice. “I’m fine. It was only nightmare.”
She inclined her head. “It didn’t sound like nothing. Was it about your brother? Sometimes grief gets processed through our dreams, especially when we don’t take the time to acknowledge it. That’s what happened to me when I had my nightmare. I was basically processing what had happened that evening.”
He said nothing.
“Or maybe it was about your father?”
More nothing.
And Sam began to feel very foolish for trying to talk to him, for coming in here with the intention of lending an ear to someone like Nikolai Rustanov.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I won’t pry. I’m just saying if you ever need to talk to somebody, I’m here for you.”
“Is there anything else?” he asked. His tone made her feel like she was talking to a living icicle.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, as matter of fact, there is something else. After what happened this morning, I’m thinking I should go back to my room—”
“Nyet, that isn’t what we agreed,” he said before she could finish.
She nearly rolled her eyes. Exactly what she’d expected him to say. “Fine, well we agreed I’d share a room with you. Not a bed, just a room. So I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”
His eyes flared with frustration, probably because she’d introduced this subject too late in the night for him to get someone in to take the couch out of his room.
“And if you take out the couch, I’m just going to sleep on the floor,” she let him know so she wouldn’t run into the issue with him the next day. Then she waited for him to issue some kind of edict about her sleeping where he told her to sleep.
But the next words out of his mouth were a question.
“You do not wish to share my bed?” he asked, his voice low and gruff. Then he averted his eyes. Like Pavel did whenever he asked a question and feared he would be hurt by the answer.
His question caused Sam to falter a bit. She wished Nikolai would stop doing this. Going vulnerable on her when she least expected it.
“I, um…” She quickly pulled on her counselor hat again. “I think sex confuses things, especially in a relationship like ours. Which was established for reasons of convenience. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Especially me, she thought with a pang, before rushing to a finish with, “This morning was a mistake on both our parts, and I think it would behoove both of us to never let it happen again.”
An icy pause.
Then Nikolai reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pair of reading glasses before picking his smartphone up off the desk.
“Excuse me. English is not my first language. I am looking up this word ‘mistake.’” He frowned. “Ah, here it is. The internet says mistake means ‘an action or judgment that is misguided or wrong. Synonyms: error, fault, omission, slip, blunder, miscalculation, misunderstanding, oversight, misinterpretation…’” he carefully sounded out the next word. “so-lee-cism—I say this word right?”
“I- I don’t know,” she answered. The truth was she’d never heard of the word, but she didn’t need to know how to pronounce it in order to realize he was making fun of her. “My point is—”
“I thought I knew what mistake means, what all these words except so-lee-cism mean. But maybe we have two different definitions. I will look at this other word, behooves.” A few thumb taps and his eyes scanned the resulting page. “Hmm, this makes things you say even more confusing. You think it appropriate and suitable for husband and wife with baby on way not to share bed?”
“We’re not—we’re not a real husband and wife,” she reminded him. “We’re more like project partners, and I don’t sleep with my project partners. So if you have an event or a work obligation you need me to attend, fine. That’s what I signed up for. But I’m sleeping on the couch.”
Another icy pause. Then he bit out, “I will not sleep in our bed without you, zhena.”
For some reason his referring to her by that name again made her lose the firm grip on all the calm she’d been determined to maintain when she walked into his study to have this conversation.
“I’m already letting you use me as an incubator,” she told Nikolai in a harsh, ugly voice. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you why I don’t want to be used as your fuck toy.”
Silence dropped down like a curtain and Nikolai stared at her for several long, heavy seconds, before saying, “You did not seem to mind being my fuck toy this morning, zhena,” he said, his voice low and calm. “What were your words? ‘Fuck me. Fuck me. Please keep going?’”
He lifted his eyebrows in mock consideration. “But maybe I do not understand these words correctly either.”
Sam dropped her gaze, her cheeks burning angry and hot. But she didn’t waver. “I’m sleeping on the couch from now on,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “Don’t try to bully me out of it.”
She said that last quiet thing and then she left his study feeling like the biggest fool imaginable for getting herself entangled with a man who had an ice rink where his heart should be.
TO SAM’S RELIEF, Nikolai didn’t try to stop her from sleeping on the ornate, red and gold chaise lounge in his bedroom that night. In fact, he left her alone. Literally. He still hadn’t come up to the room by the time Sam fell into a fitful sleep on the couch, which was comfortable enough—especially for a chaise lounge—but not nearly as comfortable as his luxurious bed had been.
Sam woke the next morning to an unexpected sight. Nikolai’s empty bed, sheets smooth, blanket in place, pillows still plump, the whole tableau an obvious testament to not having been slept in.
Sam sat up on one elbow. So then where did Nikolai sleep last night? she wondered.
An unexpected jealously gripped her, its bony green hand squeezing her heart.
Had Nikolai gone out to find what he wanted in the arms of another woman? One who had no problems with sex without love, or sleeping with a married man? The thing was, she couldn’t see Nikolai sleeping in the guestroom or his office—he was a natural competitor and he would never cede his turf. And they’d never discussed the intimate terms of their marriage beyond the fact that she didn’t think it was a good idea to be intimate with him.
Anyone looking at the situation from the outside in—a woman who refused to sleep with her own husband—might take his side on this. He wasn’t getting what he needed at home, so he went somewhere else for it. She’d met enough marriage counselors to know that open marriages were a thing that worked for some couples.
But not her. The thought of sleeping with another man made her stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with her recurrent bouts of morning sickness.
She sat up on the couch and threw off the blankets. More proof that she’d made the right decision in refusing to sleep with him again, she decided as she got up. She headed to the bathroom with her chin raised, thinking she’d be damned if was going to let this situation throw her off her healthy morning routine. She’d get dressed, go get Pavel for their morning yoga session, then they’d walk Back Up around the neighborhood and eat breakfast together, and she wouldn’t give any more thought to her cheating lothario of a husband—
Sam suddenly pitched forward violently, and she had no doubt she would have broken something when she hit the floor…
…had Nikolai’s mountainous body not cushioned her fall.
“Zhena, I told you to watch yourself,” he said, reaching up and easily rearranging her, so she was lying on top of him. Her face right above his. He gave her a tired half smile. “No falling I told you. Remember?”
/> She blinked down at him. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?!?!”
“I told you. I will not sleep in bed without you.”
His expression was so neutral, he almost look bored, but she could feel his length against the top of her thigh coming to hard, thick life.
“Be more careful,” he said, lifting her up like she weighed nothing and setting her aside. He came to his feet, looming over her. “Soon, baby will be hurt if you fall.”
“I- I usually am—I mean, I’m not the falling type. It’s just, I didn’t know you slept on the floor last night…” She struggled for more words, but only came up with another, “I didn’t know…”
He looked down at her with another of his heavy frowns, “Take your shower, zhena. I will take my workout.”
Then he left the room without another word.
29
A little over a month after having drawn her line in the sand, Sam was still wondering who was getting their way in this current situation. Because it certainly didn’t feel like her.
The morning of Pavel’s birthday, she woke to the same sight she’d been waking up to for the last five weeks. An empty room. Her husband already gone for his morning workout, which would be directly followed by his commute to work, since he’d started going in even earlier to make up the extra time he spent training Pavel after he got out of school.
She sat up and stretched, but the movement in no way addressed all the little aches and pains that came from sleeping on a chaise lounge while four months pregnant. Yet another reason she was seriously doubting her winner status these days.
Two months ago she’d been sure Nikolai would eventually tire of sleeping on the floor and might even send her back to her former room in a fit of frustration. But he hadn’t sent her back to her old room. And though she never saw him when she went to bed or woke, she’d become used to either stepping over or walking around a sleeping Mount Nik during her increasing number of late night bathroom visits.
HER RUSSIAN SURRENDER Page 18
