come home stoned out of his mind with a pint of vodka in his hand. He doesn’t worry me half to death, degrade me when he gets home, or forgets that he has a two-and-a-half-year-old son sleeping down the hall. This man …” Viviana said with a flick of her wrist in his direction. “Who in the hell is this man? Not one I need, or want, honestly.”
Before Anton could say another word, the sound of tiny feet pattering down the hallway stopped him. Usually the approach of his son in the morning only served to warm his soul, but today it felt foreboding. Demyan never witnessed his parents' disagreements. Children had a habit of blaming themselves, and Viviana and Anton kept their issues quiet and behind closed doors.
“Papa!”
Anton just managed to hide the dress shirt he didn’t want to look at for a second longer before his son was tumbling into the bedroom. Viviana reached down to tousle the boy’s raven black hair, but Demyan only had eyes for his father. Slipping across the hardwood floor in his socked feet, tiny white teeth shone as he grinned happily at the sight of his father awake and waiting.
“Hey, little man. Get up here.”
Anton reached down to grab Demyan around the waist before pulling him up into the bed. Tickling his son, the high pitch squeals and childish laughter filled the room. Anton took the moment with his son to enjoy the innocent happiness of a child, but a heaviness still hung thick in the air.
“Did you use the bathroom?” Anton asked Demyan.
The huffing, pink cheeked boy shook his head. “Nope.”
In a flash, Anton set his son to the floor. “Go do it and we’ll have some breakfast.” Once Demyan was out of the bedroom, Anton forced himself to move and get up from the bed, ignoring the pounding headache that made him want to puke. Viviana closed the door to shelter their conversation. “Vine—”
“No, I need you to listen to me for a minute, Anton. I am so angry with you. Even if something serious didn’t happen, you still allowed a woman to touch you, to get close enough to you that she left behind her smell and her lipstick. Goddamn it, you promised me you wouldn’t ever stray from our marriage, and I stupidly believed you.
“I can’t do this,” she repeated lowly.
Before Anton could say a word, Viviana kicked at a black duffle bag sitting on the floor that he hadn’t noticed before.
“What is that?”
Viviana wouldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s a bag, for you. You need to go somewhere else for a little while, okay?”
“But, Vine—”
“Be here in the morning for Demyan, and if you want, at night to put him to bed, but in-between, you can’t be here, Anton. I need to think, and I can’t do that with you nearby. All I want to do is scream at you, or hurt you. He can’t see that, so you need to give me some time.”
“This is my house, too,” Anton whispered. “You’re just going to kick me out of our fucking home?”
Viviana nodded jerkily and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, though she didn’t make a move to wipe away the wetness. “I told you, I need to think about some things.”
“Things,” he said, spitting out the word. “You mean us.”
“That’s one, yeah.”
Fucking hell, why did she sound so indifferent and cold about it all?
“Well what the fuck else is there but us, huh?” Anton’s shout practically reverberated in the room. He didn’t miss the second flood of tears that fell from Viviana or the way her hand, still holding the coffee cup, had wrapped around her midsection as she folded in on herself. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say. “Baby, I didn’t mean to yell.”
“Don’t … God, just don’t, Anton. I won’t keep you from this house, or your son. On the other hand, you need to leave me alone when you are here. That’s all I’m asking.”
Viviana still hadn’t removed her arm from her stomach. Anton’s gaze was drawn in on the protective nature of the hold and the way she just wouldn’t
Before Anton could say another word, the sound of tiny feet pattering down the hallway stopped him. Usually the approach of his son in the morning only served to warm his soul, but today it felt foreboding. Demyan never witnessed his parents' disagreements. Children had a habit of blaming themselves, and Viviana and Anton kept their issues quiet and behind closed doors.
“Papa!”
Anton just managed to hide the dress shirt he didn’t want to look at for a second longer before his son was tumbling into the bedroom. Viviana reached down to tousle the boy’s raven black hair, but Demyan only had eyes for his father. Slipping across the hardwood floor in his socked feet, tiny white teeth shone as he grinned happily at the sight of his father awake and waiting.
“Hey, little man. Get up here.”
Anton reached down to grab Demyan around the waist before pulling him up into the bed. Tickling his son, the high pitch squeals and childish laughter filled the room. Anton took the moment with his son to enjoy the innocent happiness of a child, but a heaviness still hung thick in the air.
“Did you use the bathroom?” Anton asked Demyan.
The huffing, pink cheeked boy shook his head. “Nope.”
In a flash, Anton set his son to the floor. “Go do it and we’ll have some breakfast.” Once Demyan was out of the bedroom, Anton forced himself to move and get up from the bed, ignoring the pounding headache that made him want to puke. Viviana closed the door to shelter their conversation. “Vine—”
“No, I need you to listen to me for a minute, Anton. I am so angry with you. Even if something serious didn’t happen, you still allowed a woman to touch you, to get close enough to you that she left behind her smell and her lipstick. Goddamn it, you promised me you wouldn’t ever stray from our marriage, and I stupidly believed you.
“I can’t do this,” she repeated lowly.
Before Anton could say a word, Viviana kicked at a black duffle bag sitting on the floor that he hadn’t noticed before.
“What is that?”
Viviana wouldn’t meet his gaze. “It’s a bag, for you. You need to go somewhere else for a little while, okay?”
“But, Vine—”
“Be here in the morning for Demyan, and if you want, at night to put him to bed, but in-between, you can’t be here, Anton. I need to think, and I can’t do that with you nearby. All I want to do is scream at you, or hurt you. He can’t see that, so you need to give me some time.”
“This is my house, too,” Anton whispered. “You’re just going to kick me out of our fucking home?”
Viviana nodded jerkily and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, though she didn’t make a move to wipe away the wetness. “I told you, I need to think about some things.”
“Things,” he said, spitting out the word. “You mean us.”
“That’s one, yeah.”
Fucking hell, why did she sound so indifferent and cold about it all?
“Well what the fuck else is there but us, huh?” Anton’s shout practically reverberated in the room. He didn’t miss the second flood of tears that fell from Viviana or the way her hand, still holding the coffee cup, had wrapped around her midsection as she folded in on herself. “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say. “Baby, I didn’t mean to yell.”
“Don’t … God, just don’t, Anton. I won’t keep you from this house, or your son. On the other hand, you need to leave me alone when you are here. That’s all I’m asking.”
Viviana still hadn’t removed her arm from her stomach. Anton’s gaze was drawn in on the protective nature of the hold and the way she just wouldn’t
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