Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Briony
"No. I'm coming too."
Makar held the car door, his tone as firm as if we weren't going rafting but dividing up territory worth hundreds of millions.
I looked at him through the window. "Who told you?"
"Rory."
I turned. Rory in the back seat immediately ducked his head, studying his shoelaces with intense concentration. Those shoes didn't even have laces.
"Traitor," I said.
"I just think family activities should include all family members," Rory mumbled.
Varlam sat beside me, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding his seatbelt across his chest. His injury had mostly healed, though his movements were still more careful than before.
Not from weakness, but because he'd finally started accepting that his body wouldn't heal faster just because he commanded it to.
He glanced at Makar. "No room."
Makar pulled open the back door, and he and Rory both looked at the entire row of empty seats. "You call this no room?"
"That's for equipment."
"Equipment's in the trunk."
"Can move it inside now."
Makar laughed coldly. "You afraid I'll come?"
Varlam's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid you'll turn a simple activity into chaos."
"You've already started," I unbuckled my seatbelt. "Either Makar gets in, or I take Rory myself."
Both men shut up. This was the third day after their office argument.
That so-called fair competition had ended without resolution.
My warning had finally cut them loose from their absurd rivalry.
Varlam stopped sending extravagant gifts and stopped monopolizing all my time.
Makar had also quieted down considerably.
They were both waiting for me to speak first. I didn't, so the matter just faded away.
Until today. Varlam had arranged a rafting trip. I hadn't wanted to agree, but Rory was interested.
So now here we were.
Makar climbed into the back seat. Rory happily scooted over. Varlam restarted the car, his fingers tightening on the wheel for an instant.
"You promised not to make decisions for me," I reminded him.
"I didn't." Varlam turned to look at me. Morning light fell across his silver-gray hair.
"But you were just making decisions for the empty seats."
"They won't object," he said.
Yes, Varlam was right, but it was infuriating.
"I will."
He didn't immediately end the argument with a command like before. He just fell silent for two seconds, then nodded.
"Understood."
A snort came from the back seat.
"You're really obedient now."
Varlam looked at him in the rearview mirror. "You can get out."
"I won't."
"Enough." I leaned back. "One more word from either of you, I'm sending you home."
The car went completely silent.
Rory leaned toward my ear, lowering his voice. "You're scarier than Varlam now."
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a compliment."
I pinched his cheek. We headed to a valley outside the city.
There was a gentle family rafting route there, starting halfway up the mountain, requiring a scenic cable car ride first. Varlam had asked the doctor beforehand, confirming this route had no sharp turns or rapids, and had Gleb check the operating records, weather conditions, and rescue routes twice.
Before leaving, he'd also put a medical kit more comprehensive than an ambulance's equipment in the trunk.
That was him. He could try not to make decisions for me, but he couldn't stop preparing for every possible accident. I used to only feel suffocated, but now I was starting to see the difference.
When we reached the cable car station, the mountain breeze was cool. Varlam pulled a jacket from the trunk and draped it over my shoulders.
His palm was broad, slightly calloused. His thumb slowly rubbed across my wrist bone.
My breathing suddenly grew tight. I pulled my hand back and turned to find Rory.
Behind me came Varlam's low laugh. Very quiet, but it followed me all the way up my spine.
The cable cars seated two people each. The attendant opened the first car door. Makar immediately walked toward me.
"Briony and I will ride together."
"No." Rory grabbed his arm. "You and me."
Makar looked down at him. "Why?"
"Because I'm scared."
"You just said you wanted to ride the highest one."
"I'm scared now."
"Then you ride with Briony."
Rory held on tighter. "No. I only trust you."
Makar's expression looked like someone was forcing him to swallow a whole lemon. He looked at me, clearly waiting for me to expose Rory's clumsy lie.
And I didn't.
Varlam stood beside me. He didn't rush, just waited quietly.
Rory continued his act. "Makar, you won't abandon a scared kid, will you?"
"You're not scared at all."
"Briony will be angry."
That hit the mark.
Makar looked at me, then at Varlam, finally walking into the cable car through gritted teeth. "Get in."
Rory immediately let go, moving so fast he didn't look scared at all.
"You owe me," Makar said.
"I'll help you pursue your next girlfriend."
Makar's face darkened. The cable car door closed. Rory pressed against the glass, waving at me, grinning like he'd just pulled off the perfect crime. The next cable car slid to our position. Varlam held the doorframe, letting me in first.
He waited until I'd chosen my seat before sitting across from me.
After the door closed, the cable car left the platform, the valley gradually sinking below our feet.
Makar and Rory were in the car ahead. Rory pressed his face against the glass, frantically gesturing at us.
Makar leaned against the other side, staring at us, his gaze like it could push Varlam out through two layers of glass.
I couldn't help laughing.
"Rory did that on purpose," Varlam said.
"I know."
"You didn't stop him." A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"Why would I stop him?"
His gaze settled on my face. The cable car swayed gently. I instinctively grabbed the nearby handrail. Varlam reached out almost simultaneously, but stopped before touching me.
"Do you need me?" he asked.
Those words made my chest tighten. The old Varlam wouldn't have asked. He would have grabbed me directly, put me in what he considered the safest position. Now, his hand hung in midair, palm up, leaving the choice to me. I placed my hand in his palm.
"Yes."
His fingers immediately closed, gripping me firmly.
The cable car continued rising. Wind slipped through the window gaps, carrying the coolness of trees and water.
My hand grew hot in his grip, my heartbeat losing rhythm along with it.
Varlam sat very steady. His large body nearly filled one side of the seat, his knees only inches from mine.
Silver-gray hair glowed in the light, the fine lines at his eyes clearer than usual.
Those were marks left by time. He'd learned very early to hide emotions in the deepest places. When I was still using impulse to protect myself, he'd already grown accustomed to solving everything through control.
What separated us wasn't just age. It was two completely different ways of surviving.
"Briony."
His voice pulled my thoughts back.
"What?"
Varlam looked at our joined hands. "Tell me what I should do."
I froze. This man never asked anyone what to do. Everyone waited for him to give answers. He always decided everything.
But now, he was asking me. Voice low, even a little careful.
"You're young," he said. "Your life is just beginning. Many things are first times for you, but for me they feel like risks I need to handle in advance."
"So you think I'm immature?"
"No." He immediately looked at me. "I think you have choices."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"You can choose someone easier. Someone who won't bring so many enemies, won't treat danger as routine, won't receive calls about death in the middle of the night."
I knew who he meant.
"Makar?"
"He understands romance better than I do." Varlam's tone held unwillingness.
"You're jealous of your own brother?"
"Yes."
He admitted it so directly I didn't know how to respond.
"He knows where to take women, knows what gifts won't block fire exits, knows how to make people laugh." Varlam paused. "I don't know these things."
"You've been learning fast lately."
"Gleb's suggestions are terrible."
I laughed. Varlam didn't. He just looked at me, his gaze so deep it made my chest ache.
"I know how to protect territory, how to make traitors pay, how to make decisions when everyone else panics." He said. "But I don't know how to love someone."
My smile faded. The cable car passed over tall pines. Sunlight flickered across the glass, sweeping over his face in patches of light and shadow.
"Brinny once made me think feelings were just duty and commitment," Varlam said. "That maintaining surface order was enough."
His gaze returned to me.
"Until I met you."
My breath caught.
"You get angry, you question, you force me to face truth when I least want to hear it. You refuse to live according to anyone's arrangements." His mouth moved almost imperceptibly. "Including mine."
His thumb slowly traced across the back of my hand.
"I'm not good at romance, and I don't know how to make you happy the way Makar does. But I love you."
No extravagant promises. No carefully prepared words. Just those three words, falling from a man used to hiding weakness.
More moving than any declaration.
"I love you, Briony." He repeated it. "Not because of the baby, not because you need protection, not because I can't bear to lose. I love who you actually are."
His Adam's apple bobbed.
"If you want to work, I won't stop you. If you want to make your own decisions, I'll respect that. If you need time, I have the patience to wait. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."
"Including letting me go?"
His hand suddenly tightened. Pain flashed through those steel-gray eyes. Quick, but not hidden.
"If that's what you truly want," he said.
His voice was calm. But the hand holding mine betrayed everything. Palm burning, fingers rigid, like just imagining me leaving had already exhausted all his control.
The hard knot in my chest suddenly loosened a little.