I couldn’t eat that night. I went down to the kitchen, looking around at the food that Yulia had made, at the food that she’d been in the process of making when we’d…

I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat and began to put everything into containers that I could put into either the fridge or freezer. I didn’t know if I was ever going to have the stomach for any of it, but if nothing else, I could bring it to one of the family dinners and pawn it off on my cousins.

I couldn’t stop thinking about life with Yulia before. That tiny apartment that we’d shared in St. Petersburg, full of so much love. For a moment, she had filled my home in Barcelona with that same light and life. Watching her walk away, take all of that with her…

I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to get her out of my mind. My body was physically exhausted. Sated in a way that I had never felt before. The sex between Yulia and I had always been fantastic, but this… I didn’t know if it was the poignancy, the knowledge that this might be the last time we ever saw one another or-

But no, this couldn’t be the last time that we ever saw one another. I couldn’t let her go, not again.

The following morning, I chugged down a mug of dark coffee and climbed into my car, driving out to the airport. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to her. All I knew was that I couldn’t lose her.

I sat at the entrance to the airport, waiting for her to show up with her father, worried that I might have somehow already missed them, that she might be beyond security and out of my reach.

But there she was, getting out of a cab, putting her suitcase and her father's down on the sidewalk. I hurried over to them, catching Yulia's arm as Gregor gave me an unreadable look.

“Yulia, I need to talk to you, " I told her.

Yulia stared at me for a moment, like she didn't believe that I was really there. When I looked closely, I could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, and I knew that this must be just as difficult for her as it was for me.

"Please, Yulia," I begged. "Please, stay with me here in Barcelona. At least for a little while longer. Give us a chance to figure out what this thing is between us. If there's any future for us." I lowered my voice. "It's been incredible seeing you again—and I know you have to feel the same. I can't imagine letting you go now, not again."

Yulia sighed. “Alexei, you know I can't stay here,” she said quietly. “I have my job back in St. Petersburg. I have to get back. Besides, I still don't want anything to do with Volkov family business.” She shot a sharp look towards where her father was chatting with the cab driver, just out of earshot. “Especially not after…”

“I'd look out for you,” I promised her. “I'd make sure that Audaz didn't…” But I trailed off as she shook her head. I knew that wasn't what she was looking to hear. “Well, how about this. With all the money I have, we could do a sort of 'long distance' relationship. I'll fly to St. Petersburg every other week to see you. It wouldn't be so bad, would it?”

Yulia sighed. “That won't work,” she said. “You know that won't work. It's all or nothing. If you're permanently based here in Barcelona, and I'm permanently based in Russia… It's just not going to work, Alexei. We've been through this before.”

I swallowed hard, hating what she said even though I knew it was true. We couldn't have that sort of relationship. She would start to resent me for the time I spent away from her. She would worry about the things that I was caught up in. And it would be no different for me: I would wonder what she got up to in Petersburg while I was gone. I would be jealous of her friends and her coworkers, the people who got to see her every day rather than just once every couple of weeks.

It could never work. I didn't know why I had even suggested it.

Except that I did know. I didn't want to lose her, and that's what we were agreeing to if we couldn't find some sort of solution.

At a loss, I pulled Yulia into my arms. It wasn't the fair thing to do, but I couldn't let her go without one last kiss. I locked my lips on hers, wanting to never let her go. I would have gladly stayed there forever, holding her soft curves against me, my fingers twisting into the hairs at the nape of her neck, my arms curled around her.

I almost expected Yulia to push me again, but she clung to me, kissing me back with a fever and passion that I'd never felt from her. If I hadn't already made up my mind, I knew in that instant, with 100% certainty, that I had to find a way to stay with her.

I leaned my forehead against hers, looking deep into her tear-filled eyes. “I'm going to figure out a way to make this work,” I swore.

Yulia stared at me for a long moment, biting her lower lip, and then she pulled away. She sighed and ran a hand back through her hair. “Don't promise things like that,” she said bitterly.

“It's true, though,” I insisted.

“You said you were going to figure out a way to make things work last time,” Yulia reminded me. “But it's been years and years, and you haven't done anything to try and fix things.”

“That's not true,” I said, feeling agitated. To be honest, I did feel like I had failed her. Like I had failed us. It wasn't that I had never tried. I didn't want to be there in Barcelona; didn't she understand that? I had asked Evgeni again and again if there was any way that I could return to St. Petersburg. I had even threatened to marry Yulia in secret, to claim that I was compromised and unable to do any more work for the family.

But every time, my uncle had rationally told me that if I left, I would be betraying the family. I couldn't lose my family, not like that. There was a certain honor that a man had to uphold.

Yulia threw her hands in the air. “Well, if you've been trying so hard, there's nothing that we can show for it,” she pointed out. She shook her head. “I have to move on, Alexei. I'm getting older. I want to settle down with someone. To have a family. And if that's not going to be with you, then so be it.”

“It's not like you've been trying to make things work either,” I snapped. “You could teach English here in Spain. There are loads of schools here.”

“Not ones that would hire a Russian,” Yulia said, rolling her eyes. “I doubt I'd be able to get the permits that I needed to work in the country, or a residency visa even.”

“I'm sure Evgeni could help with that,” I protested.

Yulia gave me a look. “What part of the fact that I want nothing to do with the Volkovs do you not understand?” she asked angrily.

I rolled my eyes. “Stubborn little shit,” I muttered.

Yulia bristled. “On top of that,” she continued, as though I hadn't spoken, “how do you expect me to get a job at one of these schools? They want to hire native English speakers, first and foremost, and they want to hire Spanish people to fill in the gaps. They don't want to hire someone like me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like you're just giving up,” I said.

Yulia's face went through a complicated change of emotions. Finally, she shrugged and sighed, looking away from me. “Maybe I am, Alexei,” she said quietly. “Maybe it's best that we both give up. You should move on. Date someone else. Someone here in Barcelona. Fall in love, have a family of your own. Fill up that mansion of yours.” She swallowed hard. “Let me find my own happiness.”

“Oh, is that what I'm doing now?” I asked bitterly. “Keeping you from finding your happiness?”

Yulia looked at me for a long moment, saying nothing. Finally, she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, Alexei,” she said quietly. Then, she turned and grabbed her suitcase, disappearing into the airport.

My hands clenched into fists as I watched her walk to the counter and collect her boarding pass. She dropped her bag to be checked under the plane and then headed towards security and beyond.

She didn't once look back.