Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) Nicole Fox (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

that,” she says. “But I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve had no contact with him. I served my purpose and he had no further use for me.”

“He’s not a man who rewards the people who’ve helped him,” I tell her. “You chose the wrong man.”

“I didn’t choose anything,” Tamara retorts, her tone sparking alive for the first time. “He threatened my life. He threatened the lives of all the people I loved. What was I supposed to do?”

I stare at her, at the desperation in her eyes. She wants me to absolve her of her guilt.

I truly believe she hated betraying me to Budimir.

But I don’t know if I have the capacity to let that go.

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t know what you should have done. I wouldn’t have known what to do, either.”

“Can we talk?” Tamara begs. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

I take a moment and glance back at Alik and Gennadi. They don’t look happy with this little run-in, but they don’t interrupt either.

“Okay,” I concede. “I was just gonna go get something to eat. Why don’t you join me?”

A relieved smile spreads across Tamara’s face. “That sounds good.”

We find our way to a Parisian-style café and sit at a table in the middle of the restaurant that faces the windows overlooking the street. Alik and Gennadi seat themselves at the table opposite us.

Only once Tamara and I have ordered, does she glance towards the stroller that I’ve propped pulled up next to me. Phoenix is gazing around happily.

“He looks like Artem,” she observes.

“Yes.”

“But he’s got your eyes.”

I smile. “That’s the only thing he’s got from me,” I say. “But otherwise, he’s the spitting image of his father.”

“Were you pregnant? When you came to me that day?”

I nod, unable to speak.

Tamara closes her eyes for a moment like she’s holding back tears. “You didn’t tell me,” she says finally. Her voice is strained, hoarse.

“I was processing everything at the time,” I say. “I was alone and scared and I came to you because you were the only family I had left.”

I don’t mean to make her feel guilty—though she certainly deserves it—but I can see by the flush on her cheeks that that’s exactly how I’ve made her feel.

And my hard heart unclenches just a little more.

She’s Tam-Tam. She’s family. The only family I have left.

I’ve learned the hard way in the last few months how important it is to keep my loved ones close.

“Tamara,” I say, reaching out and putting my hand on hers, “it’s okay. I’m not angry about it anymore.”

“You’re not?”

“Well… I’m trying not to be,” I admit. “It hurt like hell to know you outed me to Budimir. But I guess I can appreciate the situation you were in. You were just trying to survive.”

“I hated myself for doing it all the same,” Tamara says to me.

And honestly, I believe her.

That’s enough—for now. Enough to figure out what happens next with our friendship.

“You changed your hair,” I point out, trying to turn the conversation in a lighter direction.

She smiles, but there’s a sigh in her tone when she speaks. “I was trying to re-invent myself after what happened. I got a new apartment. Even got myself a new job.”

“And did that help?” I ask. She’s not as bubbly as I remember. Not as carefree.

She got a taste of what my life was like, and it changed her forever.

“Not really,” she confesses. “I think I needed closure for that to happen.”

“You mean you needed to talk to me.”

Tamara nods. “I know I’ve probably given up my right to ask, Esme,” she says sadly. “But how have you been? Like, really?”

I chuckle at the thought of catching her up on everything. I don’t even know where to start with that story. Nor do I want to.

“It’s been a wild ride,” I say in the end. That’ll have to suffice for now.

I do believe that Tamara is sorry. I do believe she no longer has contact with Budimir.

But I have a son to look out for. I don’t want to take any chances.

Our relationship can survive in some form, maybe.

But it cannot be what is was.

Neither one of us are naïve enough to hope for that.

“Apparently,” Tamara agrees. “It gave you a baby.”

I smile. “That’s a long story…”

“Do you wanna tell me about it?” she asks cautiously.

“Maybe one day.”

She nods, but doesn’t press me. “He is beautiful, Esme,” she sighs. I can hear the sincerity in her voice. “The cutest baby I’ve seen in a long time.”

“I think so too. But then, I’m biased.”

“You’re not,” Tamara assures me. “Not in this case, anyway. What’s his name?”

“Phoenix,” I say.

“Phoenix,” she echoes with a dreamy lilt to her voice. “I like it.” She glances back up at me. “You look happy.”

I play with the cutlery on the table. “I am. I really am. As happy as it’s possible to be.”

“So he’s good to you?” Tamara asks.

“He is,” I say. “Better than I could have imagined, given how we got married. Given why we got married.”

Tamara smiles. It seems genuine, as far as I can tell. Though I’m still suspicious of all of this.

“I’m so glad,” she tells me. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you like this, Esme. It suits you.”

“Happiness?” I laugh.

“Motherhood,” she clarifies.

“Ah,” I smile, looking towards Phoenix’s downy black mop. “Motherhood surprised me too. In more ways than one.”

“Oh, yeah?”

I shrug. “I never thought about kids ever,” I say. “And when I did, it was only as this vague, faraway concept. It never felt like it applied to me.”

“That’s definitely how I feel about kids,” Tamara agrees. “It’s probably how I’ll feel even in ten years.”

“You don’t know that.”

Tamara sighs. “I can’t see myself as a mother,” she says. “I can’t see myself as anything, really.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…”

She sighs again, deeper, and it makes me feel strangely sad somehow. She looks lost. Just like I was a