Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) by Nicole Fox (e book free reading .txt) 📕

“Clara!”

“See—soon!”

She hangs up and I curse under my breath. Clara is very kind, and wise, and unbelievably forgiving, but she’s also the pushiest person I’ve ever met. She seeks to control everything in her environment, which I know is something that has come out of two hard years of sobriety but still frustrates me sometimes.

Still, I guess it will be nice to spend some quality time with my best friend. I’ll need to move out of Grant’s apartment soon, so it could be fun to do a little damage to it.

Clara is waiting in front of my building when I get home. She is holding two big shopping bags and bounds up to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. One of the bags smacks against my spine.

“Ouch,” I complain. “What is that? A bag of bricks?”

Clara chuckles. “Just you wait.”

We head up to the apartment and Clara sets the bags on the kitchen island, then throws herself across the sofa. Her mass of golden curls spills over the armrest and she tilts her head back to look at me.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

I sigh and slump into the armchair opposite. “Weird.”

“Maybe a little free?”

“Nope. Just weird.” My head lolls to the side and I meet her gaze. “We had a plan, Clara. Grant and I had a plan. After we got married, we were going to travel, and then we were going to start our family. Grant wanted a girl first, but I wanted a boy, a little fella I could dress up as a sailor and teach to always be polite. He’d be the kind of kid that would call adults ‘ma’am’ and ‘mister,’ and everyone would fawn over how cute he was.”

“Were you planning to have a child in the 1950s?” she asks skeptically.

I frown. “Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“You can still have all that,” Clara says. “You’re only twenty-six. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and it’s better to start fresh now than spend the rest of your life tied to a man who was never going to put you first.”

“You’re right.” I look back to the ceiling. “I’m just scared to start over.”

“If life didn’t scare you, it wouldn’t be worth living.”

“I’m sure that will be comforting in a couple of weeks, but at the moment, I just …” I look over at her. “I don’t know. I’m hurt.”

Clara sits up, green eyes twinkling with something I can only describe as mischief. “You know what I hear when you say that?”

“What?”

“That you need a distraction,” she says. “Let’s go out tonight.”

My eyebrow raises skeptically. “Out?”

“Yeah. Like to a club.” She folds her legs under her, looking every bit the yoga instructor she is. “Yes, let’s go dancing! I’ll tell you the same thing I told my students today: if all else fails, feed your soul with deep stretches and heavy bass.”

“You did not say that to your class.”

“I did, too.”

I chuckle. “Okay, sensei. All the same, I think I’ll nama-stay home.”

“Please come out with me?” She pouts her pink lips. “It’ll be good for you. Now that you’ve kicked Grant to the curb, you can actually have a little excitement in your life.”

Clara always thought of Grant as boring, with his long monologues and predictable patterns. He was the sort who adhered to a weekly schedule like his life depended on it—CrossFit three times a week, his favorite cop drama on Tuesday nights, fish for dinner every Friday. It’s ironic that after years of being able to tell the time based on his movements, he would throw me a curveball so unexpected that it would knock me on my ass.

“Grant was boring, wasn’t he?” I realize out loud.

Clara nods. “An absolute snoozefest. A pretty face, but very little going on upstairs.”

“Very little going on downstairs either,” I remark. “I can’t imagine that floozy was with him because of his commendable ability to fall asleep almost immediately after ejaculating.”

She snickers. “That’s the spirit!”

“Ugh. Why was I even with him?” I scrub a hand over my face. “I think on some level I always knew I was settling. I’m just annoyed that it took this happening for me to realize it.”

Admittedly, I was always curious about the concept of having a spark in a relationship. It was something I never felt that Grant and I had. I presumed that what we did have—comfort and security—was better. Stronger. More stable.

Clearly, Grant didn’t think so. With my blinders off, I realize I shouldn’t have thought so, either.

“Your dad likes him,” Clara points out. “I think you’ve always been a little blind where your dad is concerned.”

“Dad only likes him because he’s also a lawyer,” I reply. “He just likes having someone around he can talk torts to.”

I haven’t even told my dad the news yet. In fact, I’ve hardly spoken to him lately. He’s been busy defending the innocent, and I’ve been busy looking for new ways to describe canine outfits. I always worry that my dad judges me for not living up to my potential. I hate the thought of disappointing him.

Clara shoots to her feet and goes to the island, grabbing the bags she brought before setting them down on the coffee table. “Let’s do something fun. You remember fun, right?”

“I just don’t know if I’m in the mood, Clara …” I eye the bags suspiciously. “Plus, don’t you think a club will just be a den of temptation to you?”

She waves dismissively. “Please. I am so Zen these days that the thought of alcohol doesn’t even faze me. I just want to dance with my best friend and help dig her out of the misery spiral she’s about to sink into.”

“Who said anything about a misery spiral?”

“I see you glancing over at the freezer.” She flattens her lips. “If I don’t get you out of here, you’ll end up watching terrible romcoms until you pass out in a puddle of melted ice cream.”

I am annoyed that she