One look at her forlorn appearance, and my heart hurt for her. I awkwardly uttered, “I’m sorry.”
She looked confused. “For what?”
“For winning, I guess.”
Anika took in a deep breath and walked over to me, shaking her head. “You didn’t win him.” Just as my back arched, she added faintly, “You saved him. From me.”
My brow puckered. “What do you mean?”
And just like that, Anika attempted to flee, walking backward toward the door. “I should go.”
But I could see more than she wanted me to. I got the distinct feeling Anika needed this purge. That she needed to have it with me.
“Ani,” I said, and she stalled, peering down at the floor in an attempt to avoid my gaze and the true feelings lurking in her own. “You can talk to me,” I offered. It surprised the hell out of me when I realized I meant what I was about to say to her. “I’d really like to be friends with you.”
Anika looked torn. Her pretty face crumpled, and the response she gave was quiet and full of regret. “You won’t understand. You couldn’t possibly.”
Maybe not, but I was happy to lend an ear. “Try me.”
A long silence settled between us, and just when I was sure she was done with this conversation, Anika picked at her thumbnail, an absentminded look swept over her features, and she began to speak. “We’ve been together a long time, the five of us. We grew up together. We spent holidays together. We were always… together. I guess you could say it was only a matter of time before someone went and fell in love.” Her eyes turned sad as she explained, “I only ever saw myself marrying one man.” As though she revealed too much, she shook her head and uttered, “Well, that’s beside the point. I’m getting off topic.” She then looked up into my eyes and started anew. “When I found out that Lev had impregnated Irina—” She paused a second, and then her voice shook. “—I found hope.”
Lev knocking up Irina gave her hope?
My brow lowered in confusion. That made zero sense.
Anika hands began to tremble as she clarified, “I found hope, because…” a rough exhale left her as she struggled with the words. She blinked rapidly. “Because…” Tears welled in her eyes, and she put on a watery smile that reeked of shame. “Because if he could love a piece of shit like her, then there was hope for me too.”
My chest ached at the unexpected statement. It had stunned me into silence.
Her lips trembled as the first of her tears streamed down her face, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her hands shook. She breathed unsteadily, croaking out, “There are worse things in life than marrying your dearest friend. One of those things being loneliness. I could never have the person I truly wanted, so I decided on one who was kind, and sweet, and dependable.” She took a moment, swiping at the stray tears that lingered on her cheeks. And then she scoffed, rolling her eyes lightly, as if she couldn’t believe she was telling me this. “If I could just get him to love me, I would never be alone, because Lev is nothing if not loyal.”
What she said ran through my mind, and when she was done, her chin dipped, and she lowered her face, covering her mouth with a delicate hand, appearing so utterly humiliated at what she had just admitted to.
And, for a second, my heart seized.
She couldn’t be hinting at what I thought she was.
“What are you saying?” When she braved a glance at me, the frightened look on her face broke my heart. I hated to pry when she was already so down, but I needed clarification. “Are you telling me that you never really loved Lev?”
She sniffled, shaking her head adamantly. “No. I love him very much.” But her expression turned rueful, and her voice became little over a whisper as she confessed, “Just not in the way you think.”
What the hell?
My mind imploded. My brain turned to mush.
One look at the woman and anyone could tell she was being genuine. You just couldn’t fake that kind of emotion.
First things first. “Does anyone else know?”
Anika let out a short, dark laugh. “Yeah, right. Tell Nas so she can kick my ass for trying to acquire her precious Lev? No thanks.”
Silence consumed us.
Anika watched me a moment before she turned and began to wipe away her tears, attempting to fix her makeup, and when my perplexed gaze met hers in the mirror, she offered a hushed, “For what it’s worth, I’ve been sick to death over this. I’m really sorry, Mina.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I meant what I said,” she muttered as she straightened. “You saved him. If I’d worn him down enough to commit, he would have been miserable with me.”