Chapter Thirty-Five Sarah
Istared at Maksim’s lone form through the floor to ceiling windows. He’d been standing on the terrace staring out at the water for the past ten minutes. Since it appeared he and Dima had exchanged words, I wanted to give him some time alone.
I’d also needed the time myself. I was still completely jangled inside after Dima’s talk with me on the dance floor. I didn’t like thinking Maksim was hiding something from me. He’d always been open with me even when he knew it would piss me off. \
I needed to talk to him about it. Each time I thought I had the courage to go out and confront him, I remained with my stilettos frozen to the floor.
Part of me wanted to turn and run away. It would be so easy not to face things.
Just hail a cab and go back to my apartment.
Then collapse into the bed with Voxie’s comforting purrs surrounding me.
But I couldn’t do that. Inviting as it was, it wasn’t me.
Drawing in a breath, I went over to the door and walked out to join him. “Hey you,” I said.
Maksim whirled around. “Hey.”
“What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Just g-getting some fresh air.”
Nibbling on my lip, I decided it was best to go ahead and rip off the bandaid. “Is everything okay with you and Dima?”
“Not exactly.”
I nodded. “I kinda got that vibe. Especially after what he told me on the dance floor.”
His brows slanted. “What d-did he say?”
“Some really weird shit,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
But Maksim didn’t smile. Instead, he continued staring intently at me. “Right. The truth.” I closed the gap between us. “Apparently there’s something I could find out about you that would drive me away. He wants me to give you a chance.”
A myriad of emotions swirled in his dark eyes. “He said t-that?”
“Yeah.” I placed my hands on the railing and stared out at the water. “It was so strange because the whole night I was thinking he hated me because I wasn’t Russian or that he thought I was a gold digger.”
“But he d-doesn’t.”
Turning to him, I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t.”
Maksim took my hand off the railing and brought it to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss on it. I shifted over to press myself against him.
“T-There is something I need t-to t-tell you.”
My heart clenched as he failed his triggers. Whatever he had to say was devastating to him, and in turn, it would be to me.
The door to the terrace burst open. With a beaming smile, Kira waved at us. “Come on, guys. We’re going to toast the couple.”
“Later,” Maksim looked at me and replied.
With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I nodded. Maksim kept my hand in his as he led us across the terrace.
Kira slipped her arm through my other one. “Listen, after they toast, you need to shout, “Gorko!”
“I do?”
She laughed. “It’s usually a wedding reception tradition, but Mila is embracing Kellan’s Irish heritage for that.”
“What does it mean?”
Before Kira could answer, Maksim replied, “B-Bitter.”
I threw a glance at his impassive face before turning back to Kira. She rolled her eyes at him. “Jesus, Maks, that doesn’t tell her shit.”
“It’s what the word means.”
“While Maks is right, you keep yelling to keep the couple kissing, which is to make the champagne taste sweet.”
An ache twisted through my chest. “That’s so beautiful.”
Kira giggled. “Oh, it’s corny as hell, but it’s tradition.”
I smiled at her. “I like it.”
As we walked over to the family table, Kira exchanged my hand for Maksim’s.
“Come on. We need to stand with the others.” At what must’ve been my questioning look, Kira said, “Don’t feel left out, Sarah.
This part is usually done by the parents, but we’re filling in for our mother.
I’d rather piss on my father’s memory than celebrate him. ”
I barked out a laugh at her bluntness. “It’s okay.” I nudged Maksim. “Go on.”
Nodding, he bent down and bestowed a kiss on my lips. It wasn’t erotically charged as earlier, but it warmed me all the same. At the same time, my heart shuddered with anxiety.
Maksim and Kira went over to where Dima, Aleks, and Lev stood. Dima had a loaf of homemade bread in one hand and a canister of salt in the other. Before him on the table there appeared to be an embroidered cloth.
After finishing the song, the band leader came down from the stage to hand Kellan the microphone. I’d only met him for a moment, but he had such an aura of goodness about him. He was also ridiculously handsome, but that was something I would keep to myself.
“Thank you all so much for coming tonight. Mila and I are very touched by your support of our union as well as the union of our families.”
Applause rang out through the room. At most receptions, that wouldn’t have had a double meaning. But I knew what Kellan was really saying. Their marriage meant the merging of the Kavanaugh Clan and Korolov Bratva.
“For Mila’s family, I know Mila’s and my union hasn’t been without its trials and tribulations. But you have my word that the future for her will be nothing but sunlight.”
As a chorus of aws rang out, Kellan turned to Mila. “Even though it’s a little early, I’d still like to give you a Celtic wedding vow.”
“I’ll take it,” Mila laughed.
Kellan smiled out at the crowd. “Normally I would say this in Irish, but since my bride-to-be is Russian, I will say it in her tongue.” Turning back to Mila, he said, “Y— krov' ot moyey krovi i plot' ot moyey ploti. YA otdayu tebe svoye telo, chtoby my stali yedinym tselym. YA otdayu tebe svoy dukh do kontsa nashikh dney.”
I kept my eyes on Maksim as Kellan recited the vow.
His clenched jaw told me he was fighting his emotions.
Since he kept his head bowed, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I would’ve bet there were tears in his eyes.
The same could be said for the rest of Mila’s brothers.
They all looked like they were fighting a losing battle to keep hold of their emotions.
“What about the rest of us feckers who don’t speak Russian!” a voice shouted from the crowd.
Laughter echoed as Kellan shook his head with a grin. “Yes, my brother, Dare, does bring up a good point. For everyone else: You are Blood of my Blood and Bone of my Bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit til our life shall be done."
Wild applause and whistling broke out. Even though she wasn’t my sister, I couldn’t help the tears from streaming down my cheeks as I clapped.
As Kellan and Mila kissed, the microphone was handed to Dima. “While the bread and salt tradition is usually reserved for the wedding reception, we’re like Kellan in breaking the rules. Since our mother can’t be here today, my siblings and I are here to wish the happy couple health and prosperity.”
Hoisting the bread up, Dima said, “We’re supposed to give this to the household aka Kellan, but knowing my sister like I do, I’m going to cut it in half to save myself physical harm.”
As I laughed, Maksim nodded in agreement. Once the bread was cut and the halves dispersed, Dima raised a glass. “Now let’s toast the happy union to come. To Kellan and Mila.”
I’d grabbed a crystal flute moments earlier from a passing waiter. Raising my glass, I echoed the others around me. “To Kellan and Mila.”
As I sipped the bubbly alcohol, I couldn’t help wondering if I was seeing into my own future. Would there be a time when Dima toasted Maksim and me? Considering my independent status, would he also cut the bread in half, or would he honor the fact Maksim was a pahkan and truly ruled the household?
While shouts of “Gorko!” “Gorko!” filled the air, I downed the remainder of the champagne. Regardless of Kellan and Mila kissing, it didn’t get sweeter.
Instead, it remained bitter with Maksim’s revelation hanging over my head.