Page 89 of Loathing My Boss
My eyes roll. “That’s right. Thepasttwo years. I’m all character grown now.” My fingers lace around his shirt, just like they did last night. “I…hate that I’m hurting you, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“I hate that I can’t protect you from everything.” The words leave him through gritted teeth.
I close my eyes, block out the blue sky. “So that’s it, then? We either loathe together or—”
“There is noor.”
“There is always an—”
“No.”
“Viktor,” I state.
His lips find my throat, and the sensation breaks apart the static.He whispers, “No.” He licks tears from his lips, breathes me in. “You are worth spiting the very fabric of nature over.”
Unbidden, my heart flutters. I say, “Surely not, though?”
“Crisis.”
Tense in his arms, I hedge, “Yes?”
“I love you enough to spite nature with you.”
My flesh tingles. To think I was considering not living in spite anymore.
Sirens rise in the distance, so Viktor pulls himself together, clasps my hand, and says, “You’re okay?”
I fix my attention on our tangled fingers. “I’m…okay.” I blink, drag my focus to his face. “Areyouokay?”
Stiff, he nods.
“You’re sure?”
He glares at me, sniffles, wipes his eyes with his free hand. “You’re okay; I’m okay. I’m sure.”
My mouth opens.
“Stuffhappens, Crisis. We deal with it. That’s life. That’slove. That’s family.” His hard tone softens, and his eyes close as he brings the back of my hand to his mouth. “You are worthy of life, and love, and family—even whenstuff happens. I kept my feelings silent for two years because I wanted to be sure. If it takes you just as long to figure out how you feel, that’s fine, but I will not be letting go.” He sighs. “And, yes. That’s a threat.”
“Are you sure you want to threaten me right before the cops show up?”
He fixes me with a severe stare that strongly implies I’ve lost my mind, then says, “How else will they know that we’re in love?”
Probably by the way he refuses to refer to me as anything other thanhis wifeduring the entire debriefingonce they arrive, but I’m not going to mention that.
After all, what are threats if not the enemies-to-lovers’ preferredwords of affirmation?
Epilogue
?
Learning to love again.
Crisis
The tall licks of the lapping fire before us fill the silence between chattering laughter with crackles and warmth.
Seated in Viktor’s lap, I eat a cookie I grabbed from one of the buffet tables hosting all sorts of treats and text Crimson about the truly whirlwind day I’ve been having. We rarely text—unless it’s a special occasion. Normally, we call because we can’t live without the sound of one another’s voice…and she’s usually too busy to text.
