Chapter 29 #2
I closed the box, about to tell him I couldn't accept it, when Varlam's people arrived. They didn't bring jewelry or clothes. Just a shop transfer agreement. I flipped to the last page and stared at my own name for a full ten seconds.
He'd bought me the entire store.
This counted as change. But the transfer agreement on his desk didn't make me feel touched at all.
I went to the company. In the office, Varlam leaned back in his chair, shirt collar loose, the chest wound still making his movements slower than usual. Hearing me enter, he set down his documents. Didn't question why I didn't knock, didn't call anyone to stop me.
"Take the store back." I stood in front of his desk, teeth clenched so hard they ached.
"You don't like running it?"
"I don't like you treating me like a project waiting to be acquired."
His gaze rested on my face. "You're not a project."
"Then stop courting me like a merger."
Varlam was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I'll sell it."
The anger I'd prepared suddenly had nowhere to land.
"Just like that?"
"You told me not to decide for you." He leaned back, the wound making his brow furrow slightly. "You don't want it, I'll handle it."
He'd actually remembered what I said.
"You could ask what I like," I said.
Something lit in Varlam's eyes. "Ask now?"
"Next time." I felt somewhat helpless.
"I'll remember."
He was always more earnest about this than I expected.
And in fact, the competition was more intense than I'd imagined. Makar asked me to dinner first, then booked movie tickets. He sent me the time and place, said he wouldn't be late.
I was about to agree when Varlam's invitation filled my schedule first. Monday, he asked if I wanted to see a wedding venue. An old estate being renovated—he didn't decide its use for me, just asked me as a wedding planner how I'd bring that sleeping house back to life.
I talked for two full hours. He listened for two full hours. Didn't interrupt, didn't check his phone once.
Wednesday, he took me to a very small restaurant. No clearing out, no bodyguards lined up, just an ordinary table in the corner.
Friday, he invited me to see a play. He'd even gotten impossibly hard-to-find front row seats.
What really left me no time for Makar was Sunday's activity. Varlam named Sunday afternoons "family time for three." The first time I saw those words, I stared at my phone laughing for half a minute.
"Family of three?"
"You, me, Rory."
"Where are you counting the one in my belly?"
His reply came quickly.
"He doesn't need his own seat."
I laughed until my stomach hurt. That afternoon, we took Rory to the aquarium. Varlam wore a dark coat, injuries not fully healed. Rory held one of my hands and one of his, like a little general who'd completed some secret mission.
"Do you know seahorse dads give birth?" Rory looked up at Varlam.
"I do now." Varlam's response was surprisingly calm.
"Then why can't you give birth for Briony?"
Varlam fell silent. I laughed until I had to lean against the glass wall.
He glanced at me and answered without missing a beat. "Because I didn't make arrangements in advance."
"What about next time?"
"There won't be a next time," I said immediately.
But Varlam's hand suddenly landed on my waist. "We'll discuss that later."
I turned to glare at him. He didn't bat an eye.
When Rory ran to see the sharks, Varlam lagged behind.
"Does it hurt?" I looked at his chest. "Sit down, let me check."
He sat. I stood in front of him, unbuttoning the top of his coat to check if there was bleeding under his shirt. His breath brushed my forehead. I was too close—close enough to smell the clean cedar scent on him.
"Briony, if you undo one more button, I'll have a hard time staying quiet." The sound of him swallowing was very clear.
"Look at you, making jokes now." I buttoned it back up, deflecting. "The wound's fine."
My ears burned.
During that time, my life was packed full with work, Rory, prenatal checkups, and activities Varlam arranged. Makar's messages went from two a day to five, then to ten. I often saw them at night but was too exhausted to even move my fingers.
Until one afternoon, Varlam and I came back from a checkup. We'd just entered his office when the door slammed open.
"This is what you call fair competition?"
Makar stormed in furiously.
"I couldn't stop him." Gleb followed, not a trace of apology on his face.
"You didn't even try," Makar said.
"No."
Gleb retreated and closed the door, leaving us the battlefield.
Varlam walked behind his desk, placing my checkup report in a drawer. His movements were calm, like he'd been expecting this day.
"Good timing," he said. "I was about to suggest you give up."
Makar's lungs were probably about to explode. He yanked his tie loose, veins bulging on the back of his hand. "Dream on."
"She doesn't have time to reply to you. That already shows the result."
"Because you've filled every single day of hers."
"She could refuse."
"You're using Rory."
Varlam's gaze went cold. "Watch your words."
"Family of three?" Makar laughed coldly. "You've got some nerve."
I set my bag on the sofa. "If you're going to fight, let me leave first."
No one listened.
"At least I didn't mess around with another woman behind her back." Makar looked at his brother. "You forgot about Brinny pretty quick."
Varlam's face showed no reaction, but the room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.
"I made a mistake and faced the consequences," he said. "What about you? Need me to remind you about your relationship with Chloe?"
Makar's expression froze.
"That's different."
"Of course it's different." Varlam came around the desk. "I didn't fuck another woman while dating Briony."
"Enough," I said.
Makar's ears reddened—shame or anger, I couldn't tell. "She already forgave me."
"I didn't," I reminded him.
He looked at me, momentum briefly deflating. "I meant... she's willing to give me a chance."
"She gave me one too."
"That's why we compete fairly."
Varlam stopped one step from Makar. He was taller, more composed. Makar's anger was like an unsheathed blade—sharp, impulsive, desperate for immediate victory. Varlam was like a wall that had weathered too much gunfire—just standing there was enough to make his opponent lose composure.
That was their clearest difference.
"There's no absolute fairness," Varlam said. "She's carrying my child."
The room went completely silent. Makar's jaw twitched. I closed my eyes.
"So what?" Makar ground his teeth. "Blood doesn't mean everything. I can be the kid's father going forward."
Varlam's eyes turned dangerous instantly.
"Say that again."
"I'll take care of her and the child." Makar didn't back down. "You think only you can give them a family?"
Varlam stepped forward. Makar stepped forward too. Only a fist's distance remained between them.
"Stop," I raised my hand.
They didn't stop.
"The child will know who his father is." Varlam's voice was quiet but obviously dangerous. "And you'll learn what boundaries mean."
"You have no right to talk about boundaries."
"At least I didn't package betrayal as youthful mistakes."
"At least I didn't lock Briony by my side while loving another woman."
"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!"
I grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it. It hit Makar's shoulder first, then dropped at Varlam's feet. Both looked at me simultaneously. My lungs were about to burst. Rage shot from my stomach straight to my chest, burning until my fingers trembled.
"I'm not territory for you to fight over," I walked between them. "Not a prize that goes to whoever sends bigger flowers, spends more money, fills the schedule fuller."
Makar opened his mouth.
"Don't talk," I cut him off first.
I turned to Varlam.
"You said you'd change. But now you're using the baby to decide my choice again."
His gaze sank. "I'm not deciding for you."
"You're using the baby to win."
"He's my child to begin with."
"Yes, he is." I pressed my throbbing temple. "But first, he's a child—not your weapon to beat Makar with."
The coldness in Varlam's eyes slowly receded. I turned to Makar.
"And you. You say you can be his father, like if you say it loud enough, the past will disappear. I didn't agree to be with you, much less agree to let you replace anyone."
Makar's face went pale. I didn't want to hurt him. But I couldn't let their competition push me around anymore. I was young, but that didn't mean I didn't know what I wanted. I was confused, but that didn't give them the right to choose my direction.
"Listen clearly," I said, word by word. "If you keep this up, I won't choose either of you."
Neither moved.
"I'll take Rory and leave. Take the baby in my belly and live my own life."