All the Lies We Tell (Quarry Road #1)(81)

Her quiet sniffle made him want to run. He could never handle a crying woman, especially if he was in any way responsible for the tears. And he had to face the facts: he almost always had a hand in it, somehow. Yet he couldn’t make himself move—not to get up, not to leave, not to go across the room and put a comforting arm around her—hell, if she even wanted that from him, and he was sure she wouldn’t.

“It’s time to give it up, Ilya.”

He shook his head, not able to look at her. Not able to see anything at the moment, not through the cloudy gray haze covering his vision. He wanted to blame it on a bottle of vodka, a couple of six-packs, but he hadn’t had so much as a shot of liquor. It would be better if he could pace, but in the kitchen she’d told him to sit or go, so now he was sitting, and he couldn’t make himself get to his feet.

“No. They’re just offering us money, Allie. It’s only money—”

Her voice rose. “It’s not money! It’s not about that!”

He found the strength to stand, then, by pushing too hard and too fast, the way he always did about everything else, and he took a few stumbling steps forward to catch his toe on the edge of the coffee table. It flipped over, spilling the candy in the dish, a spread of magazines. He kicked those, too.

“I’ve put everything I have into building that business!” he cried, whirling on her. “And you . . . you of all people, should understand that! It’s not about the money!”

“No,” she said. “No, it’s about her! It’s always been about her! Everything I’ve done since the day she died has been about her!”

He ran. Or tried to run. But the coffee table was in the way. So was Allie. She’d stepped in front of him, trying to pick up the candy dish. He didn’t mean to kick her arm, and he didn’t mean to shove her out of the way when she stood with a yelp. She lost her balance and fell back, knocking into the chair and then the table next to her chair. Her coffee spilled. The mug shattered.

He didn’t know how it happened or what was going on, but all at once he was on the floor with the broken pieces of her mug in his hands and lukewarm coffee staining the knees of his jeans. Allie was beside him, an arm over his shoulder. He turned and pressed his face into the familiar warmth of her, closing his eyes to let the fall of her hair cover him up, for her perfume to fill his lungs.

“We’ve both held on for way too long,” Allie said into his ear. “We have to let go, Ilya. We have to let her go.”

She held him while he shook and shuddered; she kept holding him even when he fought her. He stopped after a few seconds. He sank into himself.

The weight of the afghan covered them both. Light through the holes. The floor was hard and chilly, but Ilya didn’t move. Beneath the blanket’s embrace, he twisted to look at her.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I want to, Allie. But I just can’t.”

She rubbed his back. “Honey. She’s gone. We did this together, and I know why we did, believe me, but back then we never talked about why we decided that buying the quarry was what we needed to do. We told ourselves—and each other, I guess—that it was a great business opportunity.”

He coughed, but couldn’t clear himself of whatever was choking him. “It was.”

“Sure. Of course. But it wasn’t the reason why we bought the quarry, and it’s not why we kept it through everything else. It’s not why we put ourselves in debt, Ilya. It’s not . . .” Allie sat up, making a tent out of the afghan with herself as the center pole. “That’s not why you and I ended up together.”

“We ended up together because we loved each other,” he said.

Alicia’s mouth turned down at the corners, and she gave him a sad shake of her head. “No, honey. No. We got together because we both loved her.”

“Don’t do it, Allie. Please. Don’t.”

That was when she started to cry. “I’m sorry, honey . . . but I already did.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE


She hadn’t told him to, but Nikolai had shown up at her door with takeout Indian food and a six-pack of that craft beer she’d started to grow so fond of. She’d already changed into flannel pajamas and pulled her hair up on top of her head, but if there was any point in worrying about that, Alicia had gotten over it a long time ago. She greeted him with a kiss, after he quickly shut the door behind him to keep the cold air from coming in.

“How did you know I was craving curry?” She took the takeout bags from him.

Nikolai shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hook. “Just a guess. And I was on that side of town anyway. Had to run to the home store.”

“Ah. Your mom’s projects, huh?”

“I don’t mind. Why should she pay someone to do it when I can?” He laughed and pulled her closer for another kiss. This one lingered.

“You’re so handy,” Alicia murmured. Nikolai’s hands shifted, roaming over her back to settle on her ass. She laughed and wriggled away. “Hey, hey. I meant like hammering things . . .”

“I’m great at hammering. Better at screwing.” He chased her into the dining room.

It was no difficult feat for him to catch her, although she did make him wait to kiss her until she’d put the food and beer on the table. “Mmmm. Such a funny guy.”