Page 43 of Your Sharpest Edge
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Alex asked, and I realized I was crying.
I shook my head. I was in pain but not physically, at least. “I messed up.”
He reached for my hand, carefully intertwining his fingers with mine as he traced the lines etched on my palm. “No. You didn’t. You were so?—”
The door to the room slammed open, and Alex pulled his hand away. I turned to see my husband standing there, looking disheveled in unbuttoned jeans, his shirt on backward, and his blonde hair a tangled mess. He looked like hell.
“You had the baby?” he practically shouted, and Alex jumped up from his seat, positioning himself protectively between me and my husband.
“Her water broke. Coach called me when no one could get a hold of you. Damien, your son, is in the NICU downstairs,” Alex said, his voice steady but edged with tension.
Dimitri’s face fell, and for a brief moment, my heart panged with pity. He glanced rapidly between Alex and me.
“Thank you for taking care of her,” he told Alex, who only nodded. “I’ve got it from here.”
Alex turned to look at me, his body now shielding his reaction from Dimitri. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’d like to go see Damien with you, Dimitri, if they let us.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll go ask the nurse.” Dimitri paused as he started to head out the door, then turned back to Alex and gave him an unexpected hug.
Alex kept his arms at his side, but his eyes never left mine, filled with concern and unspoken words.
Dimitri pulled away and turned to me before heading out the door. “I’m going to do better.”
The franticness of the moment lingered, the room still charged with his abrupt entrance and the raw emotions swirling between us. As Dimitri left to find the nurse, anxiety gnawed at my insides.
“Thank you for being here,” I whispered.
“I’ll always be there for you,” Alex whispered before lowering his head and heading out the door.
His jaw ticked as if he wanted to say something, and with the last glance he sent my way, his eyes were filled with a palpable sadness.
“Thank you,” I mouthed, and he dipped his chin before turning and leaving the room.
16
stassi
“Where are you taking the baby? You need to prepare your husband’s dinner.”
I looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully inside the baby carrier. “He left for the night.”
Again. He left for the night again, but I didn’t want to open that can of worms again.
“With the team?”
I nodded.
My mother knew. She had to know because he had all but moved out, only coming back after practice to change. I wondered if the other woman knew he had a family. Hell, I wondered if there was only one woman or if there were multiple.
“In our culture, I grew up where the wife stays home. I know you have these dreams. That is why I think staying with him is best, but you must cater to his needs and help at the house before you go off skating.” She tsked as she cleaned the kitchen for the hundredth time.
I looked down at the sleeping baby with peach fuzz growing on his head and closed my eyes, not daring to start this argument. “I am a good wife. The fucking best, which is why I need him to let me skate again. I’ve been cleared by the doctor, Damien’s out of the NICU. There’s nothing stopping me.”
My mother, with her gray hair piled atop her head in a messy bun and held in by chopsticks, stopped and stared at me. She shoved her hands in the front pocket of the apron she was wearing. I loved my mom and was so grateful she came out to help me, even arriving as early as she could from Russia, but it had been a month. Damien was home now, and I needed my space.
“You should be home, taking care of your husband and child. I picked him because I knew he’d provide for you.”
