Dangerous Husbands, Broken Wives [18+]

THIRTY ONE: INNER CAVEMAN

[ANASTASIA]

I don't sleep all night.

I try, but the haunting touch of his lips on mine, his hands on my body, and the force of his arms around me keep me awake. It makes me realize how easy it would be for him to do that again if I didn't fight harder. It doesn't seem like my tough front has done anything to make him think of his actions at least twice. Ivan is still the same, the man for whom, as long as he got what he wanted, the consequences be damned.

But I can't let that happen, can I?

He might have forced me and my kids to return and be a part of his life, but I know in my heart that this is only temporary. Once I get the chance to escape from this hell, I will leave him without a second thought. I will never allow my innocent kids to become part of his dark world. No, they deserve better than this. I would do anything to protect their innocence from this monstrous empire Ivan had built.

But then why, why didn't I push him away sooner? I know I could have shoved him away long before he got the chance to deepen the kiss. In fact, the moment he pulled me close, I could have fought. But I didn't. And that makes literally no sense. It was as if my whole body froze, as if we suddenly moved back in time when I was still so madly in love with him.

I remember the snowy nights when he used to make me sit on the kitchen counter and cook dinner for me. He wouldn't even let me cut the vegetables or help him in any other way. He used to say that dinner was his way to say sorry for anything wrong he had done or thank you for something I had done to make him feel loved.

He would steal glances at me and kiss me while waiting for the food to cook or any dish to come to a boil. Sometimes he would even feed me with his own hands, especially when I was pregnant with Ivan Jr.

I shake my head and throw those memories out of my mind—or at least I try—and focus on getting ready for the day. Ivan might have gotten his way yesterday, but I won't let that happen ever again. No matter what lies I have to say or what games I need to play, I'll get away from him at any cost. The time to play fair is long gone.

I pull on a sweater and close the door to my room on my way before deciding to check on my kids first thing in the morning. My hair is still wet after the shower, but instead of drying it off, I leave it be and open the door to the kids' room.

But my feet come to an abrupt halt when I find Ivan already sitting on Ivan Jr.'s bed, talking to him in whispers, as if trying to keep their voices low so they wouldn't wake up Tatiana.

My little girl is curled up on her bed, her blanket covering her up to her neck. Which I know for a fact couldn't have happened unless someone covered her up that way. Tatiana has the bad habit of kicking off her blanket at night; she does that in sleep and doesn't even realize it when it gets cold. And seeing that Ivan Jr. still looks like he just woke up, rubbing his eyes and trying to wipe off the sleep from his eyes, it's obvious the one taking care of Tati is no one but my bastard husband.

I stand there for a moment longer, observing the scene before me. I have no way of knowing what they are talking about, but when my son's eyes fall on me, his eyes widen, and he instantly perks up.

"Momma!" he says, coughing softly. "We were just talking about you."

"About me?" I can't help but wonder aloud, all the while keeping my voice low so Tati won't wake up. Although I have nothing to worry about; my little girl sleeps like a log. She won't wake up, not even if a bomb blasts next to her ear. "Well, that's interesting."

What could you possibly be talking about me, Ivan? What are you trying to do?

I don't give voice to my thoughts and instead, head over to them, combing my son's hair away from his face. "How are you feeling today? Any discomfort? Did you sleep well?"