CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alina
Six Months Later
THE COFFEE SHOP bustles with the usual lunchtime rush, students grabbing a quick espresso and pastry before their afternoon class instead of a full-blown meal. I sit and pick at my own bublik , tearing the ring-shaped dough into bits instead of eating it.
The frenetic energy of the place is too much. Too loud. Sometimes I just want to be back home, even though I love it here. I love the program, love my classes and my new friends—
“What is it, Alina?”
One of those friends, Zoya, lays a hand over mine, stilling the movement. I look up from my untouched food and offer a small smile. She sees too much.
“I’m fine.”
Zoya’s laugh rings out, catching the attention of several patrons. She’s a pretty girl with dark, wavy hair, striking green eyes, and a delicate but deceptively strong frame. Although she’s an architecture major and I’m in the arts program, we found ourselves in the same dorm early in the year and became fast friends.
“I’m not a man who’ll let that pass,” she says. “What’s bothering you?”
I lift a shoulder in a shrug, my smile turning rueful. “It’s nothing, really. I just miss home. And Lev. I want to be here, but I want to be there, too. It’s hard.”
“Ah, yes. The handsome Lev. The one who calls you every night and employs Captain Obvious over there.” She tips her head to Igor, the bodyguard Lev insisted accompany me to school. His presence is an irritating but oddly comforting constant everywhere I go, switching out at night with someone else so he can sleep at the same time I do.
“He doesn’t try to be subtle, that’s for sure.”
Zoya slings an arm around my shoulder in a brisk hug and rises to her feet. “I have to go to class. But listen, this is not forever. You will see him soon—break is just around the corner. Cheer up.”
Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she gathers her things and leaves.
I check the time. I have several hours before my next class. I could return to my dorm, but if I did, I think I’d just stew over my homesickness. I head toward the library instead, where I discovered a sweet little west-facing study alcove a few weeks ago. At a certain time of the day, the light streams through the windows in just the right way for sketching. It’s cozy and private and perfect for working on a project I have coming due.
The library is a brisk five-minute walk from the coffee shop, and I pull my sweater closer around me as I make my way across campus. It’s fall, the air turning crisp and leaves just beginning to curl and fall from the trees. I normally love this time of year, but now it’s simply days on a calendar that I’ve spent away from Lev, my mother, and Marina.
Three months. That’s how long it’s been since the semester started and I left home. We’d spent a precious few months together and had just begun settling into a semblance of normality, with Mama and Marina in a cozy new house and me with Lev. They were coming over once a week for Sunday dinner, and Mama seemed utterly charmed by Lev—although who wouldn’t be?
I wonder if they’re still coming over, now that I’m not there?
The thought of them sitting around the dining room table without me sends a sharp pain through my chest. I know the distance between the college and my hometown is too far to practically travel for just the weekend every week, but still. I should do something.
In the library, I settle in the alcove, spreading my sketchbook and books on the wooden table. The walls are bare except for one with a single window letting in a shaft of golden afternoon sunlight.
Perfect.
I sit down, put on my noise-canceling headphones, and select a playlist. Then I get to work.
I’m fully engrossed when a pair of hands grab me a short while later, startling a scream from me. A hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the sound, and I struggle to whirl around in the chair to find a grinning Lev.
Heart beating furiously, I wrench the headphones from my head and beat him with them. “You!”
“Me,” he agrees.
“You scared the life out of me!”
“You’re still very much alive; stop complaining.” Bending, he kisses me.
"What are you doing here?" I whisper as I glance at the wicker basket in his hand, but the smile spreading across my face betrays my joy at seeing him here, in my academic sanctuary, completely unexpected.
"How else would I make sure you're eating properly during midterms?" Lev gestures to a quiet study nook in the corner. "I've got clearance from the librarian. Special circumstances." He winks playfully. "Besides, I missed you."
I missed you, too. More than I can say. The words catch in my throat as I gather my books and follow him to the secluded corner where he begins unpacking the basket.
He's rolled up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, exposing his forearms. I've always loved his hands—strong, capable, with nearly invisible scars that tell stories of his life before me. He catches me staring, and his eyes crinkle at the corners.
"What?" he asks, quietly setting out containers of food.
"Nothing." I sit across from him, tucking one leg beneath me. "This is perfect."
He's brought everything—pickled vegetables, dark bread, and sparkling cider. Dima has outdone herself again. We eat in hushed tones, catching up on the small details of our lives spent apart. His work, my studies. The sweet cider and his presence warm me from the inside. When our containers are empty and the conversation lulls into comfortable silence, I realize how much I've been holding back.
"I miss you," I tell him, running my finger along the rim of my glass. "I miss being home."
Lev's eyebrows lift slightly. "Really?"
His tone catches me off guard. "What do you mean, really? Of course, I do."
He sets his glass down slowly, deliberate in his movements. "Do you remember our conversation a few weeks ago? When you made me say the words?"
Oh. The memory floods back. Us in the library, my insistence that he verbalize his feelings, not just show them through gestures and care. The vulnerability in his eyes when he finally said "I love you" aloud.
"You've never said it back, Alina," he says softly. Not accusatory, just stating a fact. "Not once."
The realization hits me like a cold wave. All this time, I've been reveling in his affection, hearing his declarations—but holding back my own. Not because they aren't true, but because I'm afraid. Afraid that speaking them aloud makes them real, makes them something that can be taken away.
I stare at the library table, shame washing over me. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts. How many times has he wondered? How many times has he doubted what I feel simply because I couldn't bring myself to say it?
Without a word, I glance around. The library is nearly empty in this secluded corner, most students are avoiding the building altogether on this beautiful spring day. I stand up. His eyes follow me, uncertain. I step toward him and gesture for him to push his chair back from the table. Confusion flickers across his face, but he obliges.
I lower myself onto his lap, my legs straddling his. The library chair creaks beneath our combined weight. I take his face in my hands, feeling the slight stubble against my palms. His eyes search mine, and I see the question there, the vulnerability, mixed with surprise at my boldness in this public space.
"I love you," I whisper, my voice is stronger than I expected. "I love you, Lev. You rescued me when I didn't know I needed rescuing. You showed me what it means to be seen, truly seen."
I kiss him deeply, trying to pour everything I can't articulate into the pressure of my lips against his. His hands find my waist, steadying me, pulling me closer.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to say it," I murmur against his mouth. "I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" His breath is warm against my skin.
"Of losing this. Of losing you." I rest my forehead against his. "Of what happens when you let yourself need someone."
"I'm not going anywhere," he says, his hands sliding up my back, under my shirt, tracing patterns on my bare skin.
I believe him. For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe someone's promise. I shift against him, feeling his body respond to mine.
"We should probably continue this somewhere else," he whispers against my ear, his voice rough with desire.
I nod, reluctantly pulling away. "My apartment is ten minutes from here."
He nibbles my ear. “Ten minutes seems like a long time to wait.” He glances around at the empty area. “No one is watching.”
Something inside me springs to life, excitement from the thrill of his words.
My pulse quickens, need igniting sharply between us. I grasp his hand urgently. "I know where we can go," I whisper while getting off his knee.
We quickly navigate through silent aisles lined with forgotten books, finally reaching a secluded area filled with tax books and outdated indexes covered in dust. Lev pulls out a thick, ancient volume and shakes his head. "No wonder no one comes down here."
I giggle softly, but the sound is cut off as he swiftly pulls me into his arms, capturing my mouth again, hot and hungry. His hands slide under my sweater, his fingers brushing against my skin, making me shiver. I press myself closer, my breath hitching as his touch grows more urgent, more possessive.
My fingers find the buttons of his shirt, quickly unfastening them, eager for the warmth of his skin. Lev's hands slip beneath my skirt, his touch burning a trail up my thighs until he reaches my hips, gripping me firmly. He lifts me onto a sturdy shelf, books shifting precariously, but neither of us cares. My legs wrap around him instinctively, pulling him closer.
"Lev," I gasp softly, breathless as his mouth trails kisses down my neck, teeth grazing my skin. My hands urgently tug at his belt, freeing him swiftly, our movements quiet but intense.
He shifts my underwear aside, his gaze locked onto mine, dark and possessive as he pushes into me slowly, deeply, muffling my soft cry with another searing kiss. Pleasure floods through me, dizzying and powerful. Our bodies move together, quick and passionate, hidden yet utterly lost in each other.
I bury my face into his neck, biting down softly to suppress the moan rising in my throat. Lev's breathing quickens, becoming harsh and uneven against my ear, his grip on my hips tightening, driving deeper, harder, relentless. Pleasure coils tightly within me, building swiftly, overwhelmingly.
"Lev," I whisper urgently, my voice cracking with desire as I shatter around him, clinging tightly as he follows moments later, his quiet groan muffled against my skin.
We cling to each other, hearts racing, breaths mingling, wrapped in the secret intimacy we've stolen from the world.
Lev pulls back just enough to gaze deeply into my eyes, brushing my hair softly from my flushed cheeks. "No more hiding, Alina. From now on, you always tell me how you feel."
I smile warmly, my heart full and fearless at last. "No more hiding," I whisper, feeling the promise of forever settling comfortably into place.