The Restoration (Crumbling Empire Book 4) by Maia Terry

Author:Maia Terry [Terry, Maia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter thirteen

Ansleigh

During the next two weeks, I find myself going stir crazy during my time off. I decided to pick up a second job just to keep my mind busy, and man was it working.

Finally having a night off work, I’m sitting on the couch when my doorbell rings. Right on cue, Cooper, the American Bully I adopted from the shelter, begins his non-stop barking. I try to shush him, but he keeps on. Making my way to the door, I glance through the peephole, and my eyes widen. Quickly unlocking the door, I shush Cooper again and attempt to shoo him into the other room.

“What do you want, Dmitri?” I ask, holding the door so that Cooper can’t get to him.

“Can I come in?” He asks, nervously shifting his weight to the other foot. Awkward silence stretches between us as I observe the man standing on the doorstep. His dark brown hair is tamed, his eyes aren’t bloodshot like they were the last time I saw him, and he doesn’t reek of alcohol.

Every fiber of my being is begging for me to reach out and run my hand through his hair, to pull him close to me and forget everything that happened. My heart yearns to let him in, but my brain won’t allow it. My eyes fall from his face to the bouquet of flowers in his hand, and I glance away quickly tapping my fingers on the door frame.

“Dmitri, I have nothing else to say to you,” I lie, keeping my voice steady. He nods silently in understanding.

“It’s been two weeks, please, Ans,” he pleads. When I don’t reply, he sighs. “At least take these and read the note.” He slowly hands the flowers forward, and I take them from him.

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” I look down at them, pulling the note out from between them.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I will get out of your hair now.”

I watch as he turns and walks down the sidewalk to his truck. I force myself to stay quiet, to not call out to him and have him come back. That will just hurt my heart even more, and I’m not sure I can handle that right now.

“At least take the flowers and read the note.” Dmitri’s words echo in my brain as I shut the door and lock it.

Placing the flowers on the kitchen table, I gently dig through the stems and pull out the note. I don’t know what his version of a note is, but this is a full blown letter.

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