33. Viktor
VIKTOR
It’s been three days since I told her everything, and Harper’s been sleeping in the guest room, polite about it in a way that somehow stings more than if she’d slammed a door about it.
“Just until I’ve had time to process,” she said the first night, and I told her that was fine, that she could have whatever space she needed, and I’ve kept that promise since, even when every instinct in me wants to knock on that door and ask if three days is enough time yet.
It isn’t my place to decide that. I remind myself of this constantly.
She’s still here, still present at dinner, still warm with Ginger in a way that hasn’t changed at all, still civil with me in a way that’s careful without being cold.
It’s not the silence of a marriage ending. It’s the silence of a woman deciding, day by day, how much trust she’s willing to extend back to a man who spent months deciding for her how much truth she could handle.
I understand the distinction. I don’t love living inside it.
This morning, she asks me to pass the coffee without quite meeting my eyes, and I do. Ginger fills the space between us with an update on Theo’s opinions about a class field trip, oblivious to the careful distance her parents are currently navigating around her.
Once Ginger’s off to school, Dimitri arrives with a folder, and I meet him in the study instead of the kitchen, giving Harper the house to herself the way I’ve been giving her most mornings.
“Found three properties that fit what you asked for,” Dimitri says, spreading photographs across the desk.
“Gated, defensible perimeters, far enough outside the city that surveillance becomes considerably harder to maintain without being noticed. This one’s my favorite.
” He taps a photo of a stone house set back from a long private drive, hills visible behind it.
“Single road access, sightlines for at least half a mile in every direction. A man would have to work considerably harder to watch us there than he does watching this house.”
“How fast can we move if we choose it?”
“A week, if you want it done properly. Faster if you’re willing to skip a few of the security upgrades I’d recommend adding first.”
“We do it properly. A week’s acceptable, assuming nothing changes before then.”
“Agreed.” Dimitri studies me for a moment, setting the photographs aside. “How’s Harper?”
“Angry. Reasonably so.”
“Still in the guest room?”
“You don’t need to sound so pleased about that.”
“I’m not pleased. I’m impressed you’re actually respecting it instead of trying to talk your way back into her good graces early, the way you’d normally handle a problem.
” He leans back, arms crossed, something almost approving in his expression.
“That’s growth, Viktor. I didn’t expect it from you this fast.”
“I don’t have much choice. She asked for space. I’m giving it to her.”
“You’ve had a choice every day of your life, and usually you’ve chosen to fix things through action instead of patience. This is different for you. I’m noting it because it matters.”
“Noted. Can we move on to the actual property?”
“We can. I’ll set up viewings for this afternoon. I don’t expect you’ll be bringing Harper along, given where things stand.”
“No. Not yet. This is mine to handle for now.”
“Understood.” He gathers the photographs into the folder.
“There’s also movement on the other front.
The logistics contact finally gave up an address he’d been sitting on.
Small warehouse on the east side, not the same one from eleven years ago, but close enough to it that I don’t think that’s an accident.
Could be nothing. Could be where he’s actually operating from now. ”
“Get eyes on it. Quietly. I don’t want him spooked before we understand what we’re looking at.”
“Already arranged. I’ll have something concrete in a day or two.” Dimitri pauses at the door. “For what it’s worth, the club’s numbers are up this month, in case you needed one piece of good news that has nothing to do with any of this.”
“I’ll take it.”
He leaves, and I sit with the photographs a while longer, imagining Harper walking those hallways someday, imagining Ginger finding a bedroom she’d actually want, imagining a version of safety that doesn’t require either of them to live inside a fortress they never asked to need.
I find Harper in the kitchen an hour later, going through mail at the counter, and I set the folder down beside her without a word, letting her open it herself instead of narrating my way through it.
She looks through it briefly, expression unreadable, and closes it again.
“This is the relocation you mentioned.”
“Three options. Dimitri and I are viewing the top one this afternoon.”
“Fine.” She slides the folder back toward me, not unkindly, just final. “Let me know when it’s decided. I trust you to choose somewhere safe for Ginger.”
“I’d rather you were part of choosing it.”
“I know you would.” She doesn’t look up from the mail. “I’m not there yet, Viktor. I can’t stand in a house with you picking out bedrooms like nothing happened. Handle it. Tell me when it’s done.”
It isn’t the answer I want, but it’s an honest one, and I’ve promised myself I won’t push her past what she’s actually offering.
“All right,” I say. “I’ll handle it.”
She nods once, still not looking at me, and goes back to the mail, and I take the folder and leave her the kitchen, the way I’ve been leaving her most rooms these last three days, giving her exactly as much space as she’s asked for and not one inch less.
That evening, once Ginger’s asleep, I pass the guest room on my way to my own, and the door’s shut, light off underneath it, the same as every night this week.