Page 63 of Merciless Union
Arina
Iworked on Maxim’s painting over the course of the next week. During that time, the first snowfall of the year happened, which excited me. My mom and I would always run outside when the snow fell.
When the snowstorm began, I was sitting inside, painting away. I glanced out the window and saw it.
“Snow,” I exclaimed, getting up quickly.
Maxim looked at me strangely as I ran out onto the patio. “Arina, what are you doing? You’ll catch a chill.” He followed me outside, handing me my jacket.
I slipped on the jacket but didn’t look away from the snowflakes. “It’s snowing.”
“I can see that,” he said dryly.
“No, you don’t understand. It was our tradition to celebrate the first snowfall of the year. My mom and I.”
He looked at the snow with more interest. “I’ve never seen anyone be this happy about the snow. I’ve only ever seen it as gloomy and cold—as something that gets in the way of life.”
I shook my head. “No, snow’s beautiful. It’s like a rebirth. Things die, yes, but then they get the chance to be reborn. It’s beautiful.” I stook my face upward, letting flakes of snow fall onto my skin.
“Maybe in a tragic way,” Maxim commented.
“I just think you’re a party pooper.”
His lips quirked. “Is that so?”
“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll stand out here for the next few minutes and remember my mom and the time we had together.” I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell that only snow gives off.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
His words startled me. I looked over at him, taking in his expression—one of curiosity and … hope? “Yes, if you want to.”
“I want to.”
Then, we stood next to each other for a while, just looking at the snow. We only went back inside when I started shivering.
Now, as I work on my painting, watching as Maxim’s face takes shape with more and more detail, something else begins to take shape within my heart.
A growing fondness for my husband.
Ever since my mother’s funeral a week ago, things have been better between us. He’s been much nicer, though still not exactly open. He hasn’t pushed me for sex, which I appreciate. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to be intimate with him after what happened last time, with the spanking and the argument after. But I miss his touch, even though it brought me pain. I miss the pleasure he showed me. All in due time, I remind myself.
Maxim and I are working on our marriage. No need to rush anything.
I add another swipe of paint to the canvas, marveling at what I’m creating. I’ve never really done portraits before. It feels right, though, painting Maxim. I hope the more I let him into my world, the more he’ll let me into his.
“Will you let me see it now?” His words startle me, making me look up. He’s leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom, where I’ve hunkered down to paint.
“You know you’re not supposed to come in here,” I remind him, returning to my painting.
“I know. I’m just curious to see it, is all.”
I give him a look. “Well, you’re just going to have to be patient. When I’m finished, you’ll get to see it. Not before then.”
He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. He always wears suits, even when hanging around the house. It’s a good look on him, even though it distracts me. I’m acutely aware of how handsome my husband is, and it makes me want him again.
Patience, patience, I remind myself. Maxim needs to prove himself to me before I let him back into my bed again. Though, it’s tough when he looks so good all the time.
“Did you have work today?” I ask, distracting myself from my thoughts.
