“Nah. She won’t.” My voice was calm and certain.
Truth was, I didn’t care what she did because she’d always be mine, no matter what.
Kyrill studied me for a second, then snorted quietly. “You’re fucking whipped, bratan.”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward the terrace, where Addy was now attempting to reorganize something she definitely didn’t have authority over. Then his expression shifted — subtle, but I caught it. Interest and amusement transformed into something sharper.
I narrowed my eyes and studied my best friend. “How are things with yourfriend?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a drag from his cigarette. “She doesn’t like me.”
I snorted. “Can’t say I blame her.”
He smirked faintly. “I think she might be a problem.”
“Oh, but I know you enjoy those.”
“I intend to.” Something about the tone told me this might not stay as uncomplicated as he thought it would.
Did it ever?
Addy
We were lounging around the pool on one of the big sunbeds, basking in the sun. I was busy staring at the ring. His proposal had — objectively — been utterly unhinged.
People didn’t normally wake up engaged because a man decided it was happening and scheduled it like a meeting.
And yet I didn’t feel trapped or pressured. If anything, I felt … seen.
Like he had looked at me, really looked at me, and decided — correctly — I wasn’t the kind of woman who needed a question. I was the kind of woman who needed someone sure enough to make a decision and trust I would meet him there.
Which, apparently, I had.
Again, I looked at the ring, turning my hand slightly.
It was beautiful.
Of course it was.
Sasha didn’t do anything halfway. But it didn’t feel like a mistake — it felt like inevitability.
It was as if something had been set in motion the moment we started writing letters to each other like idiots who didn’t realize they were already in too deep.
My phone buzzed and I glanced down to discover a message from my sister.
Savannah: Addy, please call me when you can.
The absence of emojis and emotion in general didn’t come as a surprise, but her use of my nickname made me pause for thought. For years — ever since she’d met Nathan — she’d only called me Adelaide. Something about her calling me Addy had a small, uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.
Weird.
I started to type back, then hesitated and decided to call her later. It was probably nothing.
I tucked my phone away but Sasha was still watching me.
“What?” I asked.