I must have hesitated, drifting too far into my own thoughts, because Stas took matters into his own hands and opened the door. Tatyana's fist cut through empty air, missing its target, and she staggered slightly in surprise. Her eyes widened, genuine shock flashing in their depths. And beneath that—fear. Left unchecked, Tatyana would unravel right there on the threshold, her voice rising into a hysterical fit. The certainty of it made me wince.
But to my astonishment, Rostova outdid herself. She inhaled sharply through her nose and, with visible effort, forced herself to straighten her spine. Lifting her chin just so, she stretched her lips into a saccharine smile, burying whatever truth still flickered behind her gaze. It wasn't hard to guess what she felt, though. I knew Stas was far from indifferent to her even now—but I couldn't help wondering if she had ever known the real him at all. What was it that kept pulling her back, so that even after those not-so-innocent moments with Nik by the pool, she still twisted her face in disgust when she found Stas in my room? And this after half a year had passed since the two of them had supposedly ended their "open" relationship? Was it the money? Perhaps. Maybe that thought was exactly what kept me from feeling even the faintest trace of sympathy for Tatyana.
"Ah, there you are, Stanislav," she purred sweetly, her eyes clinging to him. "I've been looking everywhere, until Maxim told me Ase wasn't feeling well. But it seems everything is fine now. How wonderful. Simply marvelous."
Her voice dripped honey, but the cold undertone was impossible to miss. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and extended it toward Stas.
"Your father's been trying to reach you. When he couldn't, he called me instead. He's waiting downstairs in the lobby with your brother."
Stas hesitated before taking the phone, just as puzzled as I was. Why Tatyana, of all people? Why would Vladimir call her instead of anyone else? And how did he even have her number in the first place? In my world, parents only kept the numbers of friends you stayed with or partners they took seriously—not flings, not temporary distractions. You didn't parade just anyone into your home, not when your family carried secrets like ours. Sure, in a small town like Kserton, everyone probably knew the hospital's chief physician by sight, but for him to know Tatyana's personal number, to call her directly… no, there was something more to this.
"Did something happen?" Stas finally asked, scrolling through the missed calls and messages.
"No, no, nothing to worry about," Tatyana soothed, her hand gliding gently along his forearm. "He just has to leave town for a few days, and I think he wanted to give you something before he goes. He didn't tell me what, but I imagine you'd better hurry downstairs."
She gave him a slow once-over, from head to toe, and tried to mask her smirk by pressing her fingers lightly to her lips, as though stifling a cough. Stas, it seemed, had forgotten entirely that he was wearing my clothes. He hurried off down the corridor toward the stairs, tossing back a doubtful promise to cover all the expenses after the mess in the bathroom—and to finish our talk soon.
But the truth was, I no longer wanted to talk. Not if it meant listening to him beg me to read that damned diary again. Stas had no intention of explaining anything properly, and I was convinced it didn't matter anymore. Graduation would come, and he would leave to conquer the capital, while I would remain here, bound to Kserton—and to Kaandor.
All that was left to me was the fragile dream of a fleeting happiness that had never truly been mine. My lips still remembered the warmth of another's kiss, my body still ached with every stolen touch, but the moment had slipped away, and reality had returned with cruel precision. The fragile house of cards collapsed piece by piece, drifting downward as though in slow motion.
As soon as Stas disappeared around the corner, Tatyana dropped her mask and flashed me a vicious grin.
"Well?" she began, planting her hands on her hips. "You got what you wanted—and now you're not so thrilled, are you? How very sad." She laughed with relish, straight into my face, and I caught the sharp freshness of her minty breath. Even in the smallest details, Tanya maintained her flawless facade. "That's karma, sweetheart: steal someone else's guy, and you end up crying your eyes out alone."
"Stas told me more than once you two had an open relationship. And in case you forgot—it ended back in winter," I hissed through clenched teeth, anger and resentment boiling inside me.
"Oh, who cares what he called it." Tatyana waved away the logic as though it were nothing, then tapped a finger against her chest in rhythm with every word, as if her phrases rose straight from the heart: "He was with me. He was mine. And you butted in and ruined everything. And for what? Just to be tossed aside like a broken toy."
"You're wrong," I shot back. "You're only lying to yourself, pretending you deserved more than you ever had. Stas drew the line from the very beginning. That relationship had a ceiling, and you hit it the moment you let yourself believe otherwise. Did you ever even bother to find out what 'open relationship' really means?"
Tatyana's face twisted at the question, and she stayed silent. I could only guess whether she had ever truly understood what an open relationship entailed—or if she'd simply clung to Stas the first chance she got, convinced she could rewrite the rules to suit herself.
Her taunts still burned in my chest, and I wanted to hit back—to hurt her just enough to feel less wretched in this mess. And I knew exactly where to strike.
"He will never love you."
"And he'll love you instead?" Tatyana's voice erupted into laughter, spilling down the empty hallway in echoing waves. It bounced from wall to wall, filling every corner, charged with a cruel energy. The air itself seemed alive. The lamps flickered chaotically, threatening to plunge the floor into darkness. Panic stabbed through me as I glanced around for Kaandor, afraid my spirit had somehow learned a new trick—but the shadowy companion was nowhere in sight. How strange.
It took all my strength to shrug with feigned indifference. At least, I hoped it looked that way from where she stood.
"Who knows," I said evenly. "Maybe he already does."
"Don't talk nonsense." She snorted.
"Nonsense?" I pushed the door to my room wider with deliberate ease, then gestured for her to step inside. "Would you like to see what he meant by 'the mess in the bathroom'?"
Tatyana frowned, suspicious, not quite grasping my intent. But curiosity killed the cat—she slipped past me and turned straight into the bathroom. A click of the switch, and light flooded the room. I heard her breath catch at the sight. Her shoulders sagged, trembling faintly as though she were holding back tears. She bowed her head, blonde strands cascading forward like waves to curtain her face. I couldn't tell if she'd surrendered to her emotions or was fighting to contain them. Her hands clenched slowly into fists, gathering the edges of her soft sweatpants that clung to her figure.
A shrill ring pierced the silence, followed by a single sharp pop. I flinched, and the room collapsed into darkness. The crash of shattering glass echoed, another layer of shards joining their fallen kin across the floor.
"Tanya," I called, seeing she hadn't moved an inch. "Are you hurt?"
She turned to face me slowly, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I could have sworn that Tatyana's face had morphed into a dark, sinister mask, stretched into a grotesque grin from ear to ear, lined with sharp, piranha-like teeth dripping with a foul, viscous fluid. I stumbled back, my spine hitting the dresser, and for a heartbeat, I couldn't look at her. When I finally met her gaze again, the nightmare had vanished, as if it had never existed. If this was another of Kaandor's games, I promised myself I would find a way to make him pay for every one of his horrors that made my heart leap into my throat.
"No," Tanya said curtly, and stepped into the hallway. The light spilling in illuminated her face, and I saw that she looked perfectly normal. Yet some instinct within me insisted that something was wrong. Something I couldn't yet understand. Something that would inevitably change everything.
"Consider yourself lucky that Stas's family will cover the costs." She jabbed me lightly with her shoulder and strode from the room, head held high. "Find somewhere to stay tonight. There's no one left to fix anything."
A few steps later, she paused and glanced back. Her dark eyes were steel and venom, a hatred so fierce that, if it could have ignited, it would have burned me to ashes.
"And while you're at it," she added, savoring the words like poison on her tongue, "see if your precious Stas will actually take you in… or if your little rendezvous was just a one-time amusement."
Tanya winked with cruel delight and hurried away, leaving me rooted in place, staring after her retreating figure.