Chapter 123
“I don’t care. You’ve been working for years and where has that gotten you? A few bags, a lonely apartment, and no husband. An unmarried woman is invisible, Taisiya. You will attend, and you will be presentable. I’ve already arranged everything.”
I scowl. “Arranged what, exactly?”
“You’ll go to Anastasia and Akim’s engagement party with the intention of finding a husband.”
I freeze. “Akim?”
The name tastes familiar. And bitter.
“That’s someone I dated,” I mutter. “Back when I was still in Moscow. I dumped him when I left.”
Of course it’s him. Of course.
“She’s still obsessed with my leftovers,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
“He’s marrying her, not you. That’s what matters.”
“Right. Because men are the prize now.”
“They always have been. You just didn’t listen. Dimitri will be your date. If you can’t find someone by the end of that week, I’ll be encouraging him to propose.”
“Dimitri?” My stomach turns. “You mean the guy who groped me
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and then cried to you when I broke his nose?”
My mother doesn’t reply. She doesn’t need to.
A cold shudder crawls down my spine. Knowing her, she’ll find a way to trick me into signing a marriage certificate if I’m not
careful.
Her voice crackles through the speaker, sharp and certain. “One day, when you’re settled down, you’ll thank me, Taisiya. You’ll see why I’m doing this. Marriage is the best thing that can happen to a woman. It’s what defines her. A husband is a blessing, a-”
“Maybe I’m not so eager to give up my free will just because someone has a penis,” I cut in, pacing the room. “Or maybe it’s because all my life, the only ‘husband figure‘ I had was your sorry excuse for one.”
“You don’t talk about your father like that,” she says sharply. “You don’t talk about a man like that at all. How did I go so wrong with you?”
I stop walking. My grip tightens on the phone. “You didn’t go wrong,” I say quietly. “You just didn’t show up. And forgive me if I think the reason you want every woman around you married is so you’re not the only one who’s miserable.”
The silence on the other end isn’t from poor reception.
My stomach twists. I hate this part. I lash out, then get crushed under the guilt of it.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that. What I meant is… I already have a date.”
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There’s a pause – sharp and stunned – and then-
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“What?! You have a boyfriend?” Her voice jumps. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I should be the first to know when a man shows interest! What if he’s awful – what if he supports Montana?”
I stare at the floor, heat rising up my neck.
Why did I lie? I don’t even know what I’m doing.
“Actually…” I swallow. “He plays for New York.”
TESSA
–
I wait until 10 AM to call Emilia, right as I’m walking to work. Growth, if you ask me.
I could’ve called her at 7, when I was still stewing in bed. Or at 8, when I nearly threw my phone across the room. But no–10 AM. That’s self–control.
I choose to walk. Thought it might help. Walking clears my head. Brings a sense of order. Reminds me that I make terrible,
terrible decisions.
Still, I stop at a quiet café near the office for caffeine. And maybe because calling Emilia from my office means I’d have to admit to myself that this is serious.
She starts judging me rather quickly. “You were doing so well! What happened to all that talk about not letting your parents ruin your life?”
I sigh. “I thought you said no judgement.”
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“I lied. But more importantly – have you forgotten a key detail? You don’t have a boyfriend. And if you did, he wouldn’t be playing for Team Orlov.”
I hear clinks on her end – probably digging through her cabinets. My stomach growls in betrayal. Loudly.
A few people glance my way. I shoot them a look and they mind their business. Emilia goes quiet. Then: “Was that your
stomach?”
“Of course it was. I’m operating on stress fumes and half a glass of wine from last night.” I shift in my seat and lower my voice. “But this isn’t really a problem, Emilia. Lyle’s free next week. I know his schedule. He can come with me to the party.”
She’s quiet.
“I mean it,” I add. “This could be the moment I prove to him I’m not just a fun distraction. I can be… an option.” I say, taking a page out of my mother’s dictionary.
“WHAT?!”
A pause, muffled talking. Probably Liam.
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