Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“But…” Vada started.
I held up a hand.
“Sit down, I need to tell you a story,” I said softly.
I could tell by the way the two women sat that they were a little bit disappointed when I’d told them I wasn’t pregnant.
And although the thought was a nice one, it wasn’t Mig’s and my time.
One day, yes. But not now.
Not yet.
“So…there was this girl…”
***
I looked up in sympathy as a physically and emotionally exhausted Mig finally dragged himself through the door of his bedroom.
He’d been talking with his parents and grandmother for a very long time.
I could hear Vitaly Sr. yelling at the top of his lungs—mostly in Russian. I had only been able to make out the basics because all I understood was the word ‘Jennifer’ from his mouth.
I’d quietly left, closing the door behind me.
Then I’d snuck off to the bedroom I guessed was ours since it was where our bags were.
I’d passed the master, knowing instantly that Mig’s father was staying there from the men’s socks on the floor.
But there was also women’s underwear on the floor.
I didn’t go too much further into that room before backpedaling.
I’d also passed Nonnie’s room and knew it was hers by all the pictures on the walls from different generations.
The last one I came to must’ve been solely the guest room since we had our own little entrance and exit to the backyard, although I couldn’t see the pool that I knew was there.
I’d been sitting on the bed, looking out over the sprawling lawn, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing into the beach and trying to drown out the yelling.
Now, here I sat with a million questions on my mind.
So I started in on him, even though I knew he needed a break.
But it was time.
I needed to know.
“Mig…why don’t you talk to your father?” I asked.
He grimaced, plopping down in a wicker chair that was staged ‘just so’ against the far wall.
“My father had different ways of making sure I became a ‘man’, as he liked to call it, and a lot of those ways always ended up with me bleeding,” he muttered. “And I resented him for leaving us. I still resent him. He’s the reason I stayed with Jennifer as long as I did.”
That made sense, sadly.
I hated that he’d had that kind of childhood.
“What do you mean by ‘bleeding’?” I asked.
He scrunched up his nose.
It was cute.
Which for Mig, was weird.
“He kicked my ass on a daily basis to make sure I was able to fight in case something ever happened to me, and he couldn’t be there to protect me,” he said in answer.
I blinked.
“He beat you so you would know how to fight?” I asked in confusion.
He shrugged. “More or less. Put me into martial arts. Jiu Jitsu. Krav Maga. I’m a master in almost everything there is to be a master in, trying to ensure that I had training in a few different techniques.”
“So you competed in tournaments?” I asked.
He shook his head, eyes never straying from the ceiling.
“No. Not exactly,” he answered cryptically.
“And you did all of that before your military career?” I continued, not giving him a chance to close up.
His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes went blank.
I growled in frustration and stood up, walking towards the door.
“Where are you going?” He asked casually.
I looked at him over my shoulder.
“Away from you and your evasive answers,” I snapped as I slammed the door shut and walked out into the dark hallway.
Then even further to the outdoor pool that we’d eaten dinner near earlier that evening.
The pool was one of those infinity pools that overlooked the ocean. I was laying on one of the lounge chairs looking out over the pool to the ocean. Because of how the pool was built parallel to the horizon, the pool looked like it was running right into the ocean.
I was tempted to get in, but I was only wearing a nightgown, having already taken off my bra and panties to get ready for bed… and for Mig.
Not that I’d give him the satisfaction of knowing that right now.
I looked over at the master bedroom, waving slightly when I saw Vitaly flick his fingers in my direction as he locked the French doors, and pulled down the shades.
I turned my gaze back to the pool, the ocean and the horizon, and contemplated my life.
It was in shambles.
I had to contact all of my clients and tell them that I was taking a ‘leave of absence’ for the foreseeable future. And while I did have a lot saved up (or the insurance money), I wasn’t sure my clients would come back after how abruptly I’d shut my salon down. I didn’t even get into it with them that it was unsafe, that surely would have been the final nail in the coffin of my little salon.