Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Saskia stood in the living room, peeking through the curtains, searching the street outside for Radik. The village was bustling with people. Most wandered by on foot, but there were a few bikes and a truck. None were Radik.
They needed to talk. It had been three days since he found out about her pregnancy and they still hadn’t talked. She was pretty sure he was avoiding her, but she didn’t want to believe it.
Zander was still in Marifiya, and Radik seemed to be preoccupied with entertaining the doctor. They often went to Radik’s office to smoke cigars and drink scotch. She supposed they talked about the past, but she wouldn’t know. She wasn’t invited to join them.
Saskia spent most of her time in her room, despondent over being abandoned by the man who knocked her up. Okay, he hadn’t physically abandoned her, but emotionally, for sure.
It hurt that he was choosing his friend over her at a time like this. She hadn’t done anything wrong, yet she felt guilty. Yes, she should have thought about babies, STDs, infections, all that before having unprotected sex, but she hadn’t. And neither had he.
She turned from the window and dropped into the nearest chair, pulling her legs up.
Every day that passed, she felt lonelier.
Nonna hovered and Nikka was a gem, bringing Saskia tempting foods and talking nonstop about her pregnancy, but it wasn’t the same.
She wanted Radik, but the Radik she’d fallen on love with was gone, leaving behind a cold stranger.
“How are you doing today, Ms. Koba?” Saskia glanced up to find the doctor settling himself in one of the chairs. “You’re looking much better.”
Since discovering it was the pregnancy making her sick, Saskia had been eating bland foods, drinking ginger lemon tea in the mornings, and generally taking it easy until any nausea passed.
She tried to smile at the doctor but failed. “I’m feeling much better, thank you.”
An awkward silence fell. Saskia tried to think what her mother would say at a time like this, then almost laughed. Her mother may have been a psychotic murderer, but she was an excellent hostess… when she wasn’t trying to poison her guests.
Saskia’s private moment of grim humour helped center her. “How are you enjoying your time in Marifiya?” she asked politely.
“I’m enjoying Marifiya very much,” he replied, his tone pleasant. “For a paramilitary compound, it seems to have all the comforts of an idyllic village. I particularly enjoyed my lunch at the outdoor cafe yesterday.”
A shaft of hurt shot through Saskia at not being invited. She forced a smile. “The people here are very kind and accommodating. I enjoy spending time with them.” Her smile disappeared. “The people who enjoy spending time with me, anyway.”
Zander seemed to catch her meaning and his face grew serious. “I’m sorry not everything is what you had hoped for.”
She stared down at her clasped hands. “Do you… I mean… as his friend, do you know why he’s acting this way? It’s like he’s turned into a different person since finding out about the baby.”
His gaze turned compassionate and she almost wished she could snatch the words back. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, but his words dispelled her worry on that account.
“I assume you mean that he’s avoiding you, refusing to talk about the pregnancy?”
She nodded, relieved the doctor was willing to have an honest conversation. It made her feel less lonely.
He settled back in his chair. “Radik has always been a bit of an enigma, especially emotionally. He doesn’t talk about his thoughts and feelings, never has.
He’s a man of action, a person who’s used to making decisions, issuing orders, and having them followed immediately. No questions, no discussions.”
“He’s not like that with me,” Saskia murmured. “I mean, he’s bossy, autocratic and definitely tries to give me orders, but he listens when I tell him no. We talk about how we’re feeling and he lets me have input in his decisions. Or he did until he completely shut down three days ago.”
“I’ve seen how much he’s changed since meeting you,” Zander said.
“He’s still the same, but he bends more than I’ve known him to do for anyone else, including his sister.
It’s remarkable really, but I think the changes he’s made have also strengthened our friendship.
He’s more emotionally available to those he cares about. ”
“Do you think the changes he’s made are what’s bringing on his PTSD episodes?”
Zander frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She felt instantly terrible that she’d said anything. She’d assumed since Zander was Radik’s doctor that he would have shared his psychological diagnosis with the man. “Never mind,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. Please forget I said anything.”
His frown softened and he said in a low voice, “Given the life Radik’s lived, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress syndrome. I won’t push you to tell me and I won’t ask him about it.”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved. Things with Radik were already stressed without her blabbing his secrets.
“I won’t discuss Radik, but I do want to talk about you.
” He moved forward in his chair, leaning toward her and clasping his hands between his knees.
“You must think about yourself and your baby first. I find Radik’s reaction to your pregnancy puzzling, given how protective he is of you.
You’re in your first trimester when statistically, mothers are more likely to miscarry.
I’m worried you may not find the support you need if he can’t pull his head out of his ass and step up.
If you find yourself under too much pressure here, and you need help getting someplace safe, please call me. ”
She wanted to tell him she could take care of herself. She wanted to defend Radik. Instead, she absorbed his words, the warning within them and concluded that he was right. Her concern had to be for the baby now. “Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”
“Do you think you’ll leave here?” he pushed, his gaze going past her as he spoke.
She shrugged. “It’s not what I want, but if he doesn’t come around and doesn’t want to raise this child with me, then I don’t see that I have a choice. I’ll go back to Prague to have the baby and raise it myself.”
“Leave.”
Saskia whirled in her chair, gasping when she caught sight of Radik who was towering above her.
His hostile gaze was on Zander. “Now.”
Saskia scrambled out of her chair, backing away from Radik and his anger. How much had he heard? Was he mad that she’d accidentally shared his PTSD diagnosis or was he upset that she was contemplating leaving?
The doctor stood as well. “Radik, we should talk–“
“Leave,” Radik snarled, cutting him off. “You’ve talked enough.”
Zander bowed his head and exited the room, stopping next to Radik to say, “Be careful,” before leaving.
Saskia suspected he was warning Radik not to stress her out due to her condition. She didn’t think he needed to worry. She was built like an ox, had been healthy pretty much from the day she was born. A little stress was unlikely to harm the baby and this conversation with Radik was long overdue.
They stared at each other, the room growing thick with tension. She broke the silence first. “You heard Zander suggest I consider leaving?”
“Yes. I heard.” His stance and his words held enough hostility to make the hairs on her arms stand on end. “You think I will allow you to leave?”
“I don’t want to go…” she started to say.
“Good,” he snapped. “Because you’re staying.”
She balled her fists in frustration. “This needs to be a discussion, Muhammed. I’m not one of your soldiers.
I don’t take orders from you.” She took a breath, trying to calm herself before continuing, “We should talk about it. Maybe me going back to Prague for a while is the right thing to do here. At least until we’re on the same page. ”
He stepped toward her, his imposing bulk filling the room. “Don’t even think about leaving. I will hunt you down and bring you back.”
She threw her hands up. “Where exactly am I supposed to go? I’m trapped here until you say otherwise.
” She stormed around the sofa, putting it between them as she paced.
“This need of yours to keep me here makes no sense either, since you haven’t spoken to me in days.
Why keep me if you don’t like me anymore? ”
His brows slashed down in a fierce frown. “Don’t be childish,” he growled. “This has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”
“You’re calling me childish!?” Her voice went up in volume with each word.
“You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for days and all I’ve done wrong is accidentally get pregnant.
Last I checked, it takes two for that! I didn’t will it to happen.
I’m not trying to baby trap you into a relationship! ”
His frown fell away and he sighed, his shoulders bowing. “I know you’re not. I’m the one trapping you in a relationship. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Her eyes burned, but she felt slightly better. “At least you can admit that much.” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t ask for this either. I’m not ready to be a parent, but I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice.”
She stared at him for the moment, then it sank in what he meant. Abortion.
“Absolutely not.”
“It would solve our problem.”
Her heart felt like it was cracking but somehow, miraculously, she kept the tears at bay. “I don’t have a problem,” she said coldly, then covered her stomach protectively. “I’m carrying something I’ll grow to love.” She’d already started loving it. “Can’t you learn to love it too?”
He was silent for a long time, then shook his head. “I don’t know that I’m capable of it.”
“You’re capable of it with me. Why not something that’s a mix of you and me?”
A shudder rippled through him, and she knew his answer without him saying it. Despair washed over her. She couldn’t be with a man who refused to love their child. “Just send me home, Radik.”
His head snapped up. “This is your home.” He strode to her, taking her arms in a tight grip. “You belong here, with me.” He kissed her, ending it before she could think to push him away. “My name is Muhammed.” He tapped his finger to her lips before stepping away. “Don’t call me Radik.”
She covered her chest with a hand, trying to ease the pain. “Radik’s your name, isn’t it?” She didn’t want to call him Muhammed anymore. The special bond that led to her calling him by that name was disintegrating with each word he spoke.
“I’m not him,” he growled. “Not with you.”
They stared at each other. They hadn’t resolved anything and she felt worse than she had before.
He scrubbed a hand over his head. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”
She watched him leave the house, going to the window in time to see him disappear into Marifiya. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”