Chapter 14 - Anya
What happened yesterday can’t happen again.
Yes, it was incredible. More than incredible. It was so good it’s difficult to put into words.
But it’s also heartbreaking and destructive. For me to be with him—it’s too emotional. The emotions, that connection he still has to my heart is what makes it so intense. But that connection is one-sided.
From him, as he’s made clear time and time again, there is only hatred towards me, and that means he’s using me.
I deserve to be used after what I did to him.
But my heart can’t take it.
I’m heavy with emotions today, and it’s going to be a long one.
My ears pop, equalizing as the plane lifts off from the runway into the air. It’s still early morning, and the sun hasn’t fully risen yet.
I open my jaw, easing the pressure from my ears, then sigh, staring out of the window as San Diego gets smaller beneath us and golden fluffy clouds fill my view.
We’re on the way to LA to visit Emmanuil’s family.
There is some kind of family event, and he didn’t want to leave me alone in the mansion.
I assume it’s because he doesn’t trust me, but whatever his reason, I’m glad to be going along.
I liked Belle and Ardalion when they visited, and they’ll both be there.
And I’m happy not to be stuck alone doing nothing with guards watching me twenty-four seven.
“Do you want some champagne?” he asks, the usual caramel tone to his voice that sets my heart racing.
“Yes, thanks,” I say, thinking the alcohol will ease the tension in my stomach.
There’s been a knot of anxiety in my body ever since that very intense moment we shared in the kitchen.
Thinking about it sets me aflame with desire again.
I can’t believe how he reads my mind and knows exactly what to do with my body.
But it’s not what I should be thinking about.
The after effects were not worth it.
The hurt. The shame. The guilt tripling and that deep knowing that I will never truly have him again. No matter how many times I sleep with him, I won’t have his heart.
I was so overwhelmed with emotions afterwards that I thought I was going to cry. I had to run from the kitchen to hide it from him. I can’t imagine what he would have thought of me if I’d burst into tears right after.
Anyway. Think of something else. Have champagne. Watch the sky.
Keep a safe distance from the gorgeous man sitting next to you.
The champagne does help, thank goodness. It takes the edge off. Emmanuil and I even chat a little about nothing specific, and then he reads the latest news while I listen to music with some headphones on.
It’s awkward.
I’m relieved when we arrive in LA and bundle into the back of a car, heading straight for the family event.
Of his family, I hadn’t met Ardalion until recently.
Because our relationship was quite secretive in the past, we got lost in each other, and no one else mattered.
Emmanuil doesn’t have parents—he was orphaned as a baby, they both died in a terrible accident—and he never had any siblings.
Ardalion is like a brother to him, though.
I know that. He speaks of him with love.
As we step into Ardalion’s home, Belle comes rushing to say hello. She wraps her arms around me in a warm, welcoming hug.
“I’m so happy you came with. Come on in, let me introduce you to Kira and Katya. You’ll love them.”
“I’ve actually met them,” I giggle.
“Are you serious?” Belle says, surprised. Her eyes go wide as Kira runs from the patio, crashing into me and almost making me fall over.
“Anya,” she squeals. “It’s time for cocktails.”
“Well, clearly you have met,” Belle laughs as the two girls drag me out into the garden to find Katya.
It’s a pool party, and Katya is wearing the most gorgeous bikini.
She saunters up to us, her oversized hat flopping around her face, the wide brim hiding her eyes along with her gold oversized sunglasses.
She has the perfect curves. She’s like the poster example of womanhood with her narrow waist and wide hips, and the elegant way in which she moves.
“Lady Katya’s birthday is today,” Kira grins and curtsies in front of her sister.
Katya giggles. “More champagne,” she demands in an overly posh accent.
“Oh course, my lady,” Kira says, grabbing her sister’s empty glass and hurrying away.
“You guys are so weird,” Belle laughs.
“Hey, it’s a tradition. We get to be queen for a day on our birthday.”
“Happy birthday!” I say excitedly, pulling Katya into a hug.
“Thanks, babe. You have to have shots with us to celebrate.” She grins, and I let her pull me towards the bar. “And I hope you brought your bikini.” She glances over my summer dress.
“I have it under here.” I nod.
I had no idea the reason we came here was her birthday. I knew it was a pool party, but not a birthday. I wish Emmanuil had told me; I would’ve brought her a gift. I guess it would have helped if we were actually talking in the first place, and I didn’t bolt out of the room every time he came in.
Katya hands me a shot of tequila. Bella and Kira pick up theirs as well, and we all pull the same face after throwing them back.
“By the way, thank you so much for your gift, Anya. It was totally over the top, but I love it.” She hugs me tight, and I’m clueless as to what I apparently got her.
“We were placing bets to know if Emmanuil chose it, or you. Because Emmanuil is pretty good at giving gifts, but this year he went extra,” Belle says, biting into a slice of lemon.
Kira shakes her head. “A fully paid-for trip for two, exploring such beautiful places—Japan, Korea, China, Beijing—that had to be Anya’s influence.”
They all look expectantly at me.
I shake my head, my cheeks flushing pink. “It wasn’t. Emmanuil gets the credit for that,” I smile.
“You'd better take me,” Kira mutters, shooting her sister a serious glance.
Katya winks at her.
“Well, I guess he keeps his status of being a thoughtful and creative gift-giver, but honestly, I’m so grateful. Thank you to you both.” Katya pulls me into another hug, and I hug her back.
“I’m sure you guys are going to have an amazing time,” I say.
The day is incredible. The girls are in the pool first, but it doesn’t take long for the guys to join. We play volleyball over water nets, have wrestling matches with the girls sitting on the guys’ shoulders, drink too many cocktails, dance to loud music, and laugh a lot.
Emmanuil is sweet and caring in front of other people, and whether it’s a good idea or not, I allow myself to enjoy his tenderness while we’re here.
He’s so good with his cousins. Treating Kira and Katya like sisters, and Belle, too. He laughs often with Ardalion and looks relaxed and happy all day.
He has an incredible family.
I didn’t grow up like this. There were no family events, no birthday parties, no dinners.
It was just my brother and me. He gave me all the love and support in the world. But a child needs more than just one brother. I needed parents.
My mother died while giving birth to me. It hurt Kristopher deeply, but he never blamed me. It drew him closer to me and made him more protective of me.
Our father was absent. Away from home most of the time, but when he was there, he was cruel and harsh.
He would punish us easily, for no reason.
He would snarl nasty, hateful words at us.
He would never miss an opportunity to remind us that we were worthless, that we were nothing without him and his name and status.
Kristopher started running the business when he turned seventeen. He was young, but my father wasn’t going to do it, and Kristopher took on the challenge. I think he did it because he was determined to prove his worth.
My father didn’t care, though. And eventually, Kristopher didn’t seek his approval anymore and just worked hard because he loved it.
My father holds the title, but Kristopher is the one people respect.
But with him so focused on business, I was left with pretty much no one. No parents, and a brother who was always working. It was lonely.
Seeing Emmanuil and his family—it’s such a stark contrast to everything I’ve ever known in this world.
Kira hands me a fresh cocktail, and I sip it, my eyes roaming the party.
Emmanuil is laughing with Katya. He’s teasing her about how she’s so old now her wrinkles are showing. She leans over and punches him in the chest.
“You’re an asshole,” she complains, smiling. “And don’t talk to me about wrinkles when I can see gray hairs sprouting on your head.”
I know there isn’t a single gray hair on his head, but I laugh to myself anyway.
“I’m only gray because of you and your sister, stressing me out so much,” he says defensively, brushing his hand through his hair.
Katya giggles and leans her head against his shoulder, nudging him with her shoulder. “I’m lucky to have two brothers. I mean, one is enough. But like, two is better.”
He wraps his arm around her shoulders and hugs her. “Happy birthday, Katya. I really hope you enjoy your gift. And if you aren’t planning on taking your sister, please don’t leave her with me, because I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Katya leans closer and whispers, “Of course, I’m taking Kira, but don’t tell her that. I’m going to make her work for it.” She giggles.
Emmanuil and I used to joke around like that all the time. He used to be tender and sweet with me. He used to smile at me in ways that made his eyes shine brightly and dimples show in his cheeks.
I haven’t seen those dimples until now, at this party. I haven’t seen this side of him in five years.
He is honestly such an amazing man. He deserves this kind of happiness all the time. He should have smiles that give him dimples every day.
And I’m the reason he doesn’t.
I took it away from him. I know how badly I hurt him.
I know how many times he tried to reach out to me. How he begged and pleaded for me to see him, how he messaged, called, and even handwrote letters to me.
I know how much he tried. And I didn’t reply once.
Not even once.
My heart aches, a sharp, intense pain that makes my breath catch.
Tears spike at the back of my eyes, and I set my drink down on the little table next to the sun lounger and stand up, grabbing my peach kimono and slipping it over my shoulders.
My eyes are burning more, and I want to hide away for a moment to gather my thoughts and get control over my emotions.
I can’t be caught crying at someone’s birthday party. That’s not very polite of me at all.
I hurry into the house, the soft kimono floating around my body.
Everyone is outside around the pool, so I manage to slip away unseen and into a room just off the hallway. A guest room. Clean, simple, and bright.
I grab a tissue from the box on the table at the side of the bed and wipe my eyes, taking deep breaths to clear my head.
Stop being silly, Anya. Let the past go and focus on the future.
I can’t change what happened.
All I can do is take responsibility for the pain I caused him, own it, accept the consequences, and move on.
One day, he will meet someone who makes him happy. It just won’t be me. No matter how much I still want that.
I’ve had my chance, and I ruined it.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn quickly, embarrassed to be caught snooping around a house that isn’t mine. I’m ready to make a quick apology, but it’s Emmanuil standing there, not Belle or Ardalion.
“I saw you leaving the party and—I just came to see if you were okay,” he says. His voice is gentle. His eyes are warm and touched with concern.
I scrunch my nose, wishing I’d had more time alone to pull myself together.
“I just needed a—I wanted a little break,” I say, then bite my lower lip, hoping he doesn’t push it further.
“And why did you need a break? Is something bothering you?”
He walks further into the room, closer to me. I quickly scrunch the tissue in my hand into a smaller ball, hoping he hasn’t seen it.
“No particular reason,” I answer, my voice small and tight.
“You should know that I can read you pretty well, and I know you better than that,” he says.
He reaches out and touches my arm, and the warmth from his hand soaks through me.
How can I tell him what’s really bothering me? It wouldn’t help anything. It wouldn’t do any good at all. If anything, it would probably annoy him if I brought it up.
“I’m really okay. Maybe I’ve had a little too much to drink.” I grin, trying to look casual and unbothered, but the more I force myself to be calm, the harder it is to hold back the well of emotions inside me.
I press my lips together, fighting tears again.
Emmanuil pulls me into his arms and holds me against his chest, wrapping himself around me. I feel utterly safe, completely soothed, and it makes it even harder to hold back the tears that are now falling freely.
His gentleness in this moment is the exact thing that’s hurting. The fact that it no longer belongs to me.
His heart is no longer mine.