Natalia stood slowly, picked up her untouched coffee, and carried it to the sink. Spine straight. Steps steady. She wasn't going to cry in front of him. She saved that for the shower, where the water could hide it.
NATALIA
"Sign the papers," she said without turning around. "They're on your desk."
Branko shot to his feet. The chair screeched against the floor. Natalia felt his footsteps closing in, but she didn't move. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
BRANKO
"I'm not signing anything," he said, his voice tight. "We're not talking about this right now."
And he left.
He walked out of the kitchen like a contained hurricane, shoulders rigid, hands jammed in his pockets. Natalia heard him take the stairs two at a time, then his office door shutting with a dry bang.
She stayed at the kitchen counter, staring at a ridiculous sticker on the refrigerator. A magnet shaped like an avocado that read "Everything's gonna be avo-kay."
"Liar," Natalia whispered. "Nothing's gonna be avo-kay."
Hours later. Natalia's office. The Santino Building, twenty-second floor.
She was reviewing quarterly reports with one hand while the other held a double-strength coffee. Her mind, as always, ran on three tracks at once: the first analyzed financial data; the second mentally replayed every piece of gossip she'd picked up at last week's luncheon (her partner's secretary's sister-in-law was pregnant by another man who wasn't her husband); the third — the most dangerous — kept circling back to the image of Branko at that table, saying "I'm not signing anything."
"Why won't he sign?* Natalia thought, frowning at a spreadsheet. *It'd be so easy. I go to my place, he keeps his mansion and his Valeria, and everyone's happy. Well, not me happy, but at least I won't have to look at his perfect face every morning. And my share of the assets stays secure."
Her phone rang.
Natalia looked at it. Unknown number. She ignored it.
It rang again.
She ignored it again.
Third call. She sighed and answered.
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Sitik" — a neutral, professional woman's voice — "I'm calling from Kenian Hospital. Your husband has been in a car accident. He has a cerebral contusion. We need you to come as soon as possible."
Natalia let out a breath. Not from concern — that would be showing weakness — but from pure annoyance.
"Fine, I'm on my way," she said.
She hung up. Grabbed her purse. Her assistant, Lila — a twentysomething with the face of someone who'd seen it all — came running after her.
"Ma'am, we have a meeting in twenty minutes with the Koreans, and you said this—"
Natalia raised her hand. Lila went silent instantly.
"Postpone everything to tomorrow," Natalia said, striding toward the elevator like a queen. "My future ex-husband is in the hospital. It wouldn't look good if I kept negotiating while he's dying on a gurney."
"Dying?" Lila asked, alarmed.
"I was exaggerating. But the point stands." Natalia stepped into the elevator and, before the doors closed, added: "Pull up the shared log. I want to know what caused his accident. Call me the second you have it."
The doors closed. Lila stood in the hallway, shaking her head.
"What a pair of lunatics," she muttered, and went to postpone the Koreans.
When Natalia arrived at Kenian Hospital, the smell of antiseptic and desperation greeted her. She crossed the hallways at a brisk pace, ignoring nurses who tried to give her directions. She'd already located the room by the number they gave her: 412.
She walked in without knocking.
Branko was sitting up in bed. He had a bandage on his head — white, enormous, ridiculous — and some bruises on his face. The purple gave him a dangerous look, like a boxer after a fight. His white shirt was stained with dried blood. And still, goddamn it, he was the most attractive man Natalia had ever laid eyes on.
That infuriated her even more.
"How do you feel," Natalia said, closing the door. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
"Like I've been in an accident," Branko answered, voice flat.
Natalia took a seat in the plastic chair next to the bed. Crossed her legs. Looked at him.
"Well, this idiot had clowns for breakfast,* her mind thought, already running wild on its own. *How does he manage to be this ridiculously handsome even with a bandage on his head? He looks like a model for an organ donation campaign." Donate your liver, look like this man.""
Branko blinked.
"But that's all he is,* Natalia continued in her thoughts, unaware that he could hear her. *Handsome. Without intelligence. Who crashes on the same day his wife asks for a divorce? A genius, no doubt."
Branko stared at her. Too intently.
"What?" Natalia asked out loud. "Are you staring because your head hurts, or because you got lost in my gorgeous eyes?"
"Excuse me?" he said.
"God, even when he's confused he's pretty,* she thought. *I'd strangle him with my purse strap if he weren't so banged up. Then again, maybe that'd make him more attractive. I'm a lost cause."
Branko opened his mouth. Closed it. His gray eyes had gone enormous.
"Is something wrong?" Natalia asked out loud. "Did the concussion hit your mouth? Because you're making the same face as a fish out of water."
"No," Branko said, his voice strange, as if he'd seen a ghost. "Nothing's wrong."
"He's lying,* she thought. *He lies all the time. Just like when he says Valeria is" just a friend."I wish the hit had been harder. Maybe then he'd have lost his memory and forgotten about her. And while he was at it, forgotten about me too. Same difference."
Branko brought a hand to his bandage, as if it itched. Or as if he needed to hold himself up.
Natalia's phone buzzed with a message. She glanced at it absently.
Lila: "Ma'am, the cause of the accident: he was on the phone at the time of impact. Records show he was on a call with the contact 'Valeria AP' when the crash happened. Need anything else?"
Natalia looked up from the phone and met Branko's eyes with a smile that didn't reach hers.
"You know what?" she said out loud, with that terrifying calm only she could pull off. "It's funny how the universe works. A person can be talking on the phone with their friend, perfectly relaxed, trusting the road is safe, and then suddenly... boom. Life reminds you that decisions have consequences."
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