Chapter 47 Dimitri
DIMITRI
I hesitated in the foyer. Christmas music, the scent of baking cookies, and a baby’s squeal floated from the kitchen…
which was a room that currently contained a group of people I was sure despised me.
I’d been expecting Rossi to call me with snarled threats after what I’d said to his sister.
Frankly, I’d been expecting him to show up in Chicago to fight me, but nothing.
I flexed my wrecked hands, steeled my shoulders, and shut down my emotions, reaching into that cold, unfeeling place inside me until I became less than human.
But as I grew closer to the kitchen, my heart started pounding.
Last night, mixed in with my ever-present nightmares, were dreams of her.
Sienna. The sunlight illuminating the strands of gold in her hair.
The way her nose scrunched when she laughed.
The tender way she stroked Vovk’s ears. Was this my fate?
To catch irresistible glimpses of my wife in my dreams while I remained on the fringes of my own life, always on the outside looking in?
All while carrying the painful truth that I only had myself to blame for how unhappy she was, for how little she wanted to see me?
I paused in the kitchen doorway and took in the scene. Everyone was here—Rossi, Sofiya, Clementine, Romeo, Juliet, and Dante.
Rossi pulled out a pan of sugar cookies from the oven and showed them to Sofiya, who gave him a thumbs up. “Those look perfect.” She beamed when she saw me. “Dimi!”
Everyone turned, but I only had eyes for Sienna. She slowly spun on her stool to face me, but didn’t make eye contact. Her full attention was on the baby in her lap. “Say hi to your Uncle Dimi.”
Clementine squealed and waved her chubby fists.
“Hi, zayka.” I walked over and put my hand on Clem’s head. Her blonde hair was tied into the world’s tiniest ponytail right on the top of her head. It looked ridiculous, though not as ridiculous as the snowman scrunchie Sienna had used to tie her hair in a bun.
“Hi,” she said, finally looking at me.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” I responded.
Her lips tipped up in a small smile, but it wasn’t hard to see the sadness in her big brown eyes.
The next moments passed in a blur as Sofiya scooted over with her rollator and hugged me, and the men shook my hand. Maxim enthusiastically jumped into the cookie decorating competition while I stayed on the fringes, watching everything with growing confusion.
Sienna hadn’t told them. That was the only explanation. She hadn’t told anyone the horrible things I’d said, and I couldn’t figure out why.