Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
“Once,” I agree. “Then you snuck out in the middle of the night and I never heard from you again.” I could leave it there, but life without drama is dull. “It just happened to be the same night I tried to assure you not all the dryness was your fault. It was, by the way.”
He smiles like he doesn’t believe me.
It doubles my anger.
“You’re an asshole.”
I make it to my front door before his sniveling tone ends my steps. “All that mess was my ma, Zoy. I didn’t want ankle biters. Never did. But I was the last of the Stronovics, and Ma didn’t want Pa’s name to die with me.”
The honesty in his tone cools my turbines by a smidge. “So what’s changed?”
His smile slips as he rubs his hands together. “I’ve got a couple of rugrats now, so she’s good. She is off my back.”
“A few?” My pitch is as high as my brows.
I realize I’ve forgotten Vlad’s quirks when he rubs his hands faster. He isn’t gleaming with attitude. He’s shitting his pants.
“Yeah… I’ve got four.”
“Four?” I double-check, certain I heard him wrong. “You have four kids?” When he nods, I take a step back. “How the hell did you have four kids in two years?”
He wets his lips, shifting foot to foot. “Technically three.”
“Three kids or three years?”
He bows his head like a dog about to be smacked with a rolled-up newspaper. “Three years. Three pregnancies, and one set of twins with a side chick.”
It takes my sluggish head a minute to click on, and when it does, it is a devastating blow to my ego.
He cheated on me.
A man who drove his mother’s Honda and still lived at home when we dated cheated on me.
What. The. Fuck has my life become?
“I… We…” When violence is the only thought I have for several long seconds, I point to the stairwell. “You should go… or I can’t guarantee your chances of further procreation won’t lower to zero.”
“I was a dick back then, Zoy.” He waves to the stairwell like the past is one step behind him. “I’ve grown. Matured. I’ve even got a job now. That’s how I was able to afford these.” He thrusts a gas-store-purchased bunch of flowers into my chest, along with a card. “I made the card because I know how much you like them to come from the heart.” Several petals float to the floor when he tugs the card out of the badly wilted arrangement. “And you’ve been wanting to go to this gig for years, so I asked around and found some tickets.”
Too curious for my own good, I accept the card he’s holding out and tear it open. I’m surprised when an elaborately gilded ticket falls into my palm. It isn’t for the DJ gig I told Nakita about earlier. It’s for a sex club Vlad mentioned numerous times during our brief courtship.
He’s been seeking an invitation for years but was never high enough on any social ladder to be granted one.
“It’s for tonight.” He steps closer, bringing himself near enough for me to smell his breath. It doesn’t smell like whiskey, but something is definitely up with it. “And I really want to experience it for the first time with you, Zoy. It’s been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember.” When I don’t immediately tell him to take a hike, he rubs his hands together like I’ve already said yes. “The name on the ticket doesn’t matter. I checked with the club before I arrived, so all you need to do is get your fine ass dressed and we’re good to go.”
My eyes shoot down to a name not close to mine for half a second before my knee pops into Vlad’s groin. It’s the name of the woman I accused him of hooking up with when we were together, except her last name is no longer Berkov. It matches Vlad’s surname.
“Fuck… that…” He tries to remain standing tall, but within seconds, the pain becomes too much for him to bear. “I need to sit down for a minute. Can I?” He points to the section of stairwell his ass was warming when I arrived home.
“Take all the time you need, Vlad.” I bob down until not even his misted eyes can miss the seriousness in my gaze. “But you better be off my stoop by the morning or I’ll invite my best friend over for a game of doctors and nurses.” I lower my tone to a deadly whisper. “Her party tricks involve unclean scalpels.” When I recall his personality is the only time I can mention “dick” with an impressive edge while referencing him, I add, “And tweezers. Teeny-tiny peanut-grabbing tweezers!”
Not giving him a chance to reply or defend his manhood, I shove my key into the lock with enough force to bend the metal before I race into the entryway of my apartment, slamming the door behind me.