CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
For the first time in nearly two weeks, Theresa felt good enough to put on clothes that were not pajamas and throw in a load of laundry, run the vacuum, and clean up the piles of books, magazines, and empty tissue boxes that littered the den near the couch where she’d been spending most of her time. Her in-box had been filling up with messages from her freelance clients, and while she’d been able to keep on top of a lot of it, there were some things only in-person meetings could handle. There were also the long lists she’d been making with Ilya to take care of.
There was also Ilya, in general.
She paused while stripping the sheets from her bed, her arms full of cotton, to bury her face in the pile and let out a muffled squeal. It did not turn into a bout of throat-ripping coughs, so that was a relief. It did end up with her turning to sit on the bare mattress to fend off a wave of dizziness that she had to admit had nothing to do with her recent illness. It was the thought of what she was getting herself into. A few deep breaths dispelled the spinning of her head, but not the squeezing feeling in her chest.
The summer Barry and Galina got married had been the first time Theresa ever went with the Stern boys and the Harrison girls to the quarry to swim. Ilya had been the one to invite her, last-minute, when they were already heading out. It had meant something to her back then, because she’d been struggling to find her place in the new family dynamic, and he’d made it seem like the most natural thing in the world for her to be included.
“Aren’t you coming?” he’d asked, his towel hung over one shoulder. “C’mon, Malone.”
She’d grabbed her suit and towel and a pair of sunglasses and hurried after them, following the sound of their voices because they hadn’t waited for her to catch up. That had told her more than anything that she’d become a part of their group. No special treatment.
Niko had been the first to jump off the rock ledge and into the water, followed by Ilya and Jenni, while Alicia shook her head and refused. Nobody had bullied Theresa into following the other three. Her own desire to fit in with them had pushed her to the edge, her toes curling over the smooth limestone. She’d looked down to the water below, and her heart had seized, her vision had blurred a little in anticipatory fear, and she’d forgotten she was holding her breath until her ears began to ring.
“Jump, Malone!” Ilya had shouted from the water.
She had not jumped.
She’d gone swimming with all of them many times after that, but she’d never jumped off the ledge. Yet here she was, already on the way down, this time already knowing how it felt to leap and fall and have the quarry water close over her head. The cold had taken her breath away exactly the way Ilya’s kisses did, except this time she was not going to do it only once.
The sound of her front doorbell ringing got her up and moving, and she paused to dump the sheets in the laundry room before she answered it. She wasn’t expecting Dina Guttridge to be standing there with a bottle of wine in her hand. The other woman looked like she’d been crying.
Dina held up the bottle. “Can I come in?”
“I . . . sure.” Theresa stepped aside, though not fast enough, because Dina was already shoving past her into the kitchen.
The wine was in a screw-top bottle, which meant Theresa didn’t need to offer a corkscrew. Dina had already opened it and was looking at her with a sour expression. “Glasses?”
“Sure.” Theresa pulled out a single glass and handed it to the other woman, who frowned. “I don’t drink.”
“Figures.” Dina poured a glass and sipped it, then shuddered with distaste and put the bottle and glass on the table. “Yuck. I knew I should’ve gone with the Cab.”
“What can I help you with?” Theresa eyed the other woman warily. She already had a suspicion about why Dina was there, and she didn’t particularly want to deal with it.
“Are you fucking him?”
Theresa leaned against the counter. “That’s none of your business, Dina.”
“I knew it. Dammit.” Dina wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, cutting her gaze to the side before fixing it on Theresa’s. “You know he can’t be trusted.”
If there’d been any suspicion that Ilya and Dina had done any fooling around, it dissipated under those words. Theresa would have laughed, if that hadn’t felt so terribly cruel. Instead, she said nothing.
Dina’s laugh had little humor in it. “You’re already in deep, huh? He does that to you. Makes you think you’re something special. Gets close to you. Then . . . nothing.”
“Whatever happened between the two of you is none of my business.” Theresa kept her tone neutral. “And whatever is going on with me and Ilya is none of yours.”
Dina sagged. “Yeah. Right.”
“I think you should go,” Theresa said, but gently.
“Don’t you even care? I’m trying to warn you.”
Theresa wanted to laugh again, not because there was anything funny about what Dina had said but because the warning was all too legitimate. “I can take care of myself.”
“You think I’m a terrible person, don’t you?”
“It’s not my place to judge you,” Theresa said.
“But you are! I would be,” Dina added.
There was no way she and Dina were ever going to be friends, but in that moment Theresa had at least the tiniest shred of sympathy for her. “People make mistakes. It happens. You either learn from it or you don’t, I guess.”
“Oh, I learned from it,” Dina said bitterly. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t make the same mistakes.”
“I’m not married,” Theresa said coldly, getting tired of Dina’s insistences and the conversation in general. “Whatever happens between me and Ilya is only going to affect me, and I already told you I can take care of myself.”
Dina winced. She nodded. “Fine. I guess I should go.”
“Please. And take the wine.”
“You can keep it. I’m done with it, and you’re welcome to take my leftovers.” If Dina’s tone and snide words had been meant to make Theresa feel bad, they missed the mark. Without waiting for an answer, the other woman turned on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen. The front door slammed a minute or so later.