Kova was married.
My chest caved in and my knees shook. I was dizzy, and close to fainting. God, the pain was so bad. I trusted him. I gave him everything and all he ever did was deceive me. Everything that came out of his beautiful mouth was a lie my heart held close.
Lies were equivalent to breathing air for Kova. It was amazingly terrifying how much destruction one person could cause with the slip of a tongue.
My head was a mess and I couldn’t think straight. Fat tears started falling so fast I couldn't stop them. I started crying, the hiccup in my voice couldn't be hidden. "I…I need you," I choked out.
"Where are you?" I could hear the urgency in his voice.
"World Cup…by my truck."
"On my way. Stay there. Don't move."
I hung up my phone and stared at my reflection in the dark tinted window, frozen in place. Whether Kova knew it or not, he had destroyed me. I grabbed onto the door handle tighter, but I couldn't move. The world was spinning around me as I spun in the opposite direction, the walls closing in with each spin. My breathing deepened until my ribs crushed my broken heart and I struggled for air.
I was a fool. A young, naive fool who ate lies for breakfast and spouted them just as fast as Kova did. We were the same, yet we were not, because I'd never, ever hurt someone the way he hurt me.
I blinked, and something dawned on me. Last night when Kova was deep inside me and I was trying to ease his pain, he spoke many things in Rus
sian, but there was one word he said over and over that I had meant to look up.
Prosti.
Pulling open my truck door, I dragged myself inside and googled what prosti meant.
It took two seconds to figure it out. Chills ran down my arms as I stared in absolute shock.
"I'm sorry," I whispered aloud.
Kova was sorry, because he knew, and he didn't tell me. He knew, and the worst part was that he took what I so freely gave…because I loved him.
I loved Konstantin Kournakova.
I fell for this beautiful, Russian man, who slowly destroyed me, and I had no one to blame but myself.
It was startling. My hand flew to my chest as I struggled to breathe. My eyes scanned around my car, over the rich black dashboard, the leather seats, the wood grain. I inhaled the fresh new car scent and wanted to throw up. The car was getting smaller, the seats were shifting closer. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block it out. I needed to get out.
"Prosti."
Oh God. The reality that I loved him and what love caused me to do, shattered me completely. I believed everything he had said, I’d misread his touch, his kiss. While I thought he was expressing his love, he was actually breaking my heart. I lost myself to him and he took it. He didn't care about me. There was no way Kova cared about me, or he would've done something, anything, to prevent the agony tearing through me. He didn't want me, just like my mom didn't want me. I would never be enough for anyone.
I wasn't sure how I would come back from the damage he’d caused. I was strong, but I could only handle so much.
My heart was reaching out for help. I needed Hayden. He was my only friend. The only one who didn't cause me pain and exhaustion and devastation. The one constant who I could lean on when things got rough.
It was only a handful of minutes and a lot of tears and gasping for breath until he was there opening my truck door and pulling me into his embrace. I sagged into Hayden's chest, feeling his warmth, even though I was so cold inside. I shivered, goose bumps ran down my arms and my knees buckled. I fisted his shirt and cried silent tears while his hand rubbed slow circles against my back, holding me tight as I lost myself.
"It will be okay, Aid, I promise," Hayden said softly, then he kissed the top of my head. "I promise to take your pain away. Let me take you away from here."
I nodded and exhaled.
We were a team, he had said. I exhale, and you inhale.
A lot of time passed when my eyes couldn't produce any more tears. I felt myself completely shut down inside. Exhaustion taking over, I was void of any emotion.
Everyone had a breaking point, and I'd just reached mine.
I was so tired. Tired of thinking. Of feeling. Of hurting. Of giving.