Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Lia: There’s a word for that… it’s called stalking.
Maksim: Then I’m your stalker. The man who follows you, watches you, appreciates you. I’m the fucking savage who understands you from a distance more than any man ever has. The man who's seen, over these past few months, how hard it is for you to keep going… and seen you do it anyway.
I swallow, knowing this is messed up. It also happens to be exactly what I’ve wanted for so long. To be seen, acknowledged, cared for. But this can’t be right, can it?
Lia: What have you seen? I drink black coffee, wow, what a revelation.
Maksim: Save the sarcasm, Lia. I’ve seen more than that.
Lia: You don’t get to tell me to save anything. Number one, because we’re strangers, even if you’ve got this one-sided thing going on. Number two, because you’re the one in the wrong here. So, answer my question.
Maksim: This is one of the things that drew me to you in the first place. No one talks to me like this, not even my closest advisors.
Lia: Or the other women you watch? Or the socialites who throw themselves at you?
Maksim: I don’t watch anyone else. I never have. And I don’t date. So, get that out of your head.
Lia: So I’m just that special, huh?
Maksim: More sarcasm? Yes, you are that special.
Lia: You don’t know me. You’ve seen snippets here and there, on video. That doesn’t mean anything.
Maksim: It means more than you want to admit.
I imagine him furiously texting, dark eyes fixed on the screen, jaw pulsing as he lets the outrage hit him, muttering huskily under his breath, “How can she say it means nothing? It means everything.” I like the thought way more than I should.
He sends another text.
Maksim: The moments that show who you really are happen before you visit a patient with a particularly bad condition. I can see how difficult it is for you sometimes. Now, I know you’re carrying a heavy burden. Your grief. Your mother. So, you take a moment. You stop, and you breathe, and you mutter something under your breath, then you smile and walk in there, ready to do the right thing. That’s who you are. That’s one of the reasons I admire you.
I blink, feeling tears in my eyes. I quickly wipe them away.
Lia: Do you know what the term ‘love bombing’ means?
Maksim: I’m not trying to bomb you. You asked.
Fine, he’s got a point. But I didn’t expect him to cut so deeply, to see me as nobody else ever has.
Lia: I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with any of this. This situation is already absolutely crazy.
Maksim: I think you want to be angrier than you are. I think you feel flattered. You want to be seen. I think you understand, on a deep level, that you ARE a light in this world. And even if you get praised at work, or appreciated by your patients, it’s not enough. It’s too transactional. Too surface level. You want more. Well, I see you. I know you. And I’m impressed by every single moment.
More tears spring to my eyes. He’s right, but I can’t condone this behavior… can I? I can’t just act as if everything is okay.
The emotion mixes with the lust from earlier, a big swirling mess of how the hell am I going to handle this?
Lia: Seriously, search ‘love bombing’ online. You might find some similarities.
Maksim: This is the truth. But I understand this could be the end of us.
Panic tears through me. It has no right. This should be the end of whatever’s happening here. I understand he’s keeping me safe, and I’m grateful, but I should shut down any notion of romance.
Stalking is not okay.
Except, maybe… just this once?
I close my eyes, take a deep breath. But that works against me. My mind replays all those quiet and lonely moments, the moments I thought I was alone, but they’re brighter now. I wasn’t alone. I had a dark, savage guardian angel watching over me.
Lia: Us’ doesn’t mean very much, Maksim. We’ve only had like three or four conversations.
Maksim: We can’t deny what happened between us earlier. The passion. The connection. We can’t deny that, if I hadn’t left, we’d be in bed together right now. None of this would matter. We’d be obsessed with each other.
Lia: Maybe in the moment. But we have to face reality. What you did is not okay. You have to know that. What if I wasn’t attracted to you? What if I wasn’t flattered by this? What if I was disgusted?
I send the message too fast, then stare at it with a confusing feeling twisting through me. I’ve just admitted that part of me likes it. I shouldn’t have sent that. But I can’t think clearly when I’m talking—or even texting—with Maksim.