Page 61 of Hate You Most

Viktoriya’s voice wavered. “Did I choose you?”

“You did. Just like you kissed me the night of the ISU in Milano.”

Viktoriya tried to believe her. She really wanted to.

“I remember that night,” she said. “It feels like not that long ago, like I am still the same scared person that left. I don't think I can⁠—”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Dakota interrupted gently. “And you don’t have to wear the ring if it makes things harder.”

Viktoriya glanced down at her hand without meaning to. The silver band caught in the dim light of the living room lamp.

“I don’t know if it makes things harder,” she said slowly. “It just confuses me.”

“You can take it off,” Dakota replied. “We can put it away. No one needs to know.”

Viktoriya could make out Dakota's distorted reflection on the TV screen. She looked as beautiful and determined as the day she met her.

“No, I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t exist.” She hugged the pillow tighter, grounding herself in the pressure. “I just don’t want the world looking at me and knowing this private thing before I understand it myself.”

Dakota’s expression softened in the distorted TV screen. “So what do you want?”

Viktoriya thought about it. About Russia, about headlines she hadn’t read yet but knew would prevent her from living her life. About how safe this apartment felt, and how fragile that safety was.

“I’ll wear it,” she said. “But only here, in the apartment.” She was fully aware her accent came out thicker when she was emotional, but she didn't care. All she did was hope that Dakota understood her words.

“Okay,” she said. “That’s completely okay.”

“Why are you okay with it?” Viktoriya asked quietly.

Dakota didn’t answer right away. She leaned further back against the couch, eyes drifting toward the curtained up window that concealed them from the city lights outside.

“We were never… open back then,” she said. “Not the way I wanted us to be. Not to the world.”

Viktoriya watched her closely in the TV reflection.

“The rings were always more for us than for anyone else,” Dakota continued. “Most of the time we didn’t wear them outside anyway. They weren’t really about being seen—they were more about the promise we made to each other.”

Viktoriya nodded, a strange warmth spreading through her chest. They sat like that for a while longer, knees still almost touching, the ring still on her finger. The silence was no longer quite as heavy.

Viktoriya lingered in the doorway of the bedroom, one hand braced against the frame.

“Dakota?” she asked.

Dakota turned around halfway into the bathroom, already a toothbrush in her hand. “Yeah?”

“You don’t have to,” Viktoriya said quickly, like she was correcting herself before she could be misunderstood. “But… would you sleep in the bedroom with me? Just sleep.”

Dakota went very still.

For a moment, Viktoriya thought she’d said the wrong thing again—that tight, familiar feeling crept into her chest. They had never stayed with each other and just slept together—there was probably a time when they had, she just couldn't remember it.

Dakota shook her head gently. “Not yet.”

Viktoriya nodded. “I’m so alone in that bedroom.”

“Lonely?” Dakota asked. “It’s not because I don’t want to,” she added a moment after. “Your brain needs the rest, Viktoriya. I'm right across the hall if you need anything or start to feel unwell.”

Viktoriya absorbed that, then stepped back into the cold room. “Goodnight, then.”