Page 86 of Owned Bratva Bride
But that wasn’t the only reason behind my planning the movie date. It was the fact that I wanted answers, needed them. If he was going to distance himself from me, he had to do it with his full chest instead of hiding behind circumstances and opportunities. I wouldn’t just sit in the bedroom and wait forhim to bring up the movie date. I wouldn’t try to comfort myself that it might have slipped his mind later at night. I would ask him directly, face-to-face. If he had changed his mind for whatever reason, I wanted to hear it from him.
The sound of the front door opening made me drop the throw pillow in my hand on the couch. I went out of the sitting room, meeting him on the way to the stairs.
His men went ahead of him.
“It’s Saturday. We planned to watch movies,” I stated matter-of-factly.
But the defeated expression in his eyes made me drop my inner ammunition. He looked like a man who was pained about losing in a game. It tugged at my heart. I hated that he had that effect on me, but he did.
“Um…if you’re busy, it’s fine,” I conceded, shrugging casually.
His eyes flicked beyond me, to the sitting room. He probably saw the snacks on the table and the movie list on the smart television.
“I’ll change and be down soon,” he informed, his eyes back on me.
“No, you don’t have to. If you have…” I started before he interrupted.
“I’ll join you.”
Then he went up the stairs.
As I walked slowly back to the couch facing the TV, I couldn’t help but smile.
True to his word, Eduard came back before I knew it. Hair darkened and moist from having had a shower, he looked athletic and homely in black joggers and a matching T-shirt.
He sank beside me on the couch, face straight, letting out a loud breath.
I turned sideways.
“What do you prefer? Action?”
“You’re the movie person, remember? I’ll go with whatever you choose.”
It warmed my heart that he always remembered our conversations, not just the movie talk.
“Okay.”
I picked up the remote and clicked on a sci-fi movie, deeming it a middle ground for us.
I put two transparent packs of cookies on two small plates and handed him one as the opening credits rolled on the screen.
“Thanks,” he whispered as he relaxed into the couch, placing the plate on his lap.
I also sat back, digging into my cookies immediately.
“The Martian?” he asked, eyes not leaving the screen.
“Yes. But don’t ask for a spoiler. I don’t give spoilers.”
“What’s a spoiler?”
He brought his left arm around me, pulling me into him.
“Hm?” he prompted, bringing back my attention from his touch to his question.
“A spoiler is a hint at the end of a movie. Giving a spoiler means telling someone how the story ends.”
“That takes the fun out of the experience of watching, doesn’t it?”
